Love Between the Lines (26 page)

He picked at a corner of the blotting paper on his desk, absently ripping the pap
er as he read the article a third time.

The
thought of having Lizzy wasn’t enough to banish the sick feeling in his stomach, which grew more pronounced. He knew these men. Petersly? A cold-hearted purveyor of young women? Possibly even a murderer? It seemed unbelievable. He leaned forward and pointed to a particularly strong paragraph. “You list the sources where you found the information. Did you approach the barrister?”

“
His clerk. And though he was unwilling to provide Lord Ernest’s name, he described someone who looks exactly like Lord Ernest, who gave him the papers. Granted that clerk wasn’t the most honest character I’ve ever met but I saw Lord Ernest enter the premises.”

“
But could someone have paid the clerk to lie to you?”

She chewed on
an already ragged thumbnail. “Why? Who would profit in a lie like that? I paid the man a fee, it’s true, but who would manufacture the evidence? I promise you there are pages of the stuff. Ledgers and any number of notes. My hand hurts from copying only the most essential numbers and dates.”

He closed his eyes.
The truth was not something he could dodge. “All right.”

“
What?”

She had gotten up and now leaned
over him, too close. He would let go of everything else and be a newspaperman. And here she was, his newspaperwoman, staring down at the story, then at him, anxious.

Back to the edges of society you go, my man,
he thought and for the first time in months, something loosened inside him. He had only a few inches to move, and yes, he was kissing her and kissing her.

This was going to be his reward for leaving the plans and ambitions behind. This was worth the loss of the life he
’d planned. Lizzy.

He said her name aloud, her
real, first name. He groaned it as she came into his arms.

He pushed her away from him and went to the door. The morning paper had been put to bed, there was the calm before the day
’s rush for the other journals. He wasn’t due in the office—according to the reasonable hours of a publisher—for at least an hour.

He turned the key in the lock
, and they were there together. With careful deliberation, he picked up most of the papers on the desk and stacked them neatly on the chair. He picked her up and sat her on the desk.

Gideon pulled off his jacket.

Lizzy had lost the ability to breathe properly but managed to say,
“What are you doing?”

“
It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

The waistcoat
came off next. He paused and touched her hat. “It’s almost as bad as your old one. Take it off.”

She did, automatically.
She already hated how much power this man had over her and now desire threatened to swamp all the rest of it.
Concentrate on the important.

“
The story,” she began.

“
I will publish it in the
Clarion
. Front page.”

Her bo
dy thrummed with awareness. She would ignore the overpowering urge to pull him to her and feel that imposing weight on her. “Thank you,” she said. “But what if I refuse what you’re doing now? What would happen if I say no to you?”

He paused, undoing his cuffs.
“You think that if you don’t cooperate with me now”—he slid his hand so it covered her breast, a crude, possessive gesture—“I won’t publish it?”

Despite the layers of cloth she
still wore, she felt her nipple respond, harden under his palm. She forced herself to meet and hold his gaze. “Yes, that’s precisely what I think.”

He kissed her neck and the corner of her mouth
, inhaled as he tasted her scent, then he straightened again and smiled down at her. “No. You’re wrong, Trudy Tildon. I’ll publish it because it’s news. What is about to take place here on my desk, that’s personal. That’s between us. No matter what goes on the page, we’re going to do this.”

“
You think so?”

He leaned forward and kissed her, soft at first, almost as if he asked for permission. Then the kiss grew more demanding.

He broke away. “Yes, I do.”

“What?” She touched her lips that tingled. What was he talking about.

“This will happen.” His hands rested on her shoulders. “You want me as much as I want you, and that’s a dizzying amount. You crave my touch so much you can’t think clearly.”

His small smile told her he was
aware how ridiculous he sounded. Despite that, his desire caught at her, and the truth of his silly words were too close to real. She rolled her eyes. “You are conceited.”

“
Yes, but I am also hopeful.” He lost that that teasing, silly expression and studied her face. “Lizzy, I need you. Please let me kiss you again.”

She opened her arms.
At last, she thought, and she sighed as she pulled him close.

He buried his face against her neck.

She gave a small gasp at the way his warm breath tickled her skin, and he kissed her throat until she shivered. She grabbed his head and then was distracted by the feel of his hair on her fingers.

S
he wiggled closer, pushing her body to his. Embarrassed that she showed obvious desire, she tried to regain control. “I suppose I taste like ink and paper.”

He kissed her mouth, chin, and then licked her jaw. “You are a woman
, and you taste nothing like a newspaper.”

Another
pang of that overwhelming desire rolled through her. All those weeks of dreaming of him, imagining the way his body would feel against hers—she was not ready to stop for anything, not her scruples, not her career. They seemed petty concerns when she would at last sate the endless hunger.

Her profession, she thought. It would survive. A
trifle unsteadily, she murmured, “Ah, but a publisher’s desk. It is so appropriate.”

H
e pulled away, drat him, and gazed down at her. His hair was disheveled already. The sight of him serious and heavy-lidded with concern and arousal touched her heart even more than the excitement of at last touching Gideon.

He said,
“You’re right. You deserve better.”

She grabbed him around the waist and pulled him close. “There is nothing better
,” she whispered and lay back on his desk, willing him to take this time with her, to take
her
, without regret.

H
e kissed her and slowly unbuttoned her gown, and pulled down her sleeves. Undressing her as carefully as he’d taken off his own jacket and waistcoat.

He managed to wrestle off her stays and pull her chemise over her head. While he folded the items carefully, she sat again to watch, naked from the waist up. When he was done, he looked her up and down and seemed to lose that thoughtful concentration again. He said her name and they fell on each other, coming together almost clumsily; ah, such a novel lack of control.

After more kisses, h
e climbed onto the desk next to her. Something thumped on the ground, and she winced and started to slide off the desk.

“No, no.” He
got up and took a minute to haul the rest of the papers onto the floor. There went the blotter with another thump. He returned to Lizzy and pressed her down again.

He resumed the
kisses and stroked her flesh until she whimpered and pushed up against his touch.

“Now,” she growled.

“I’m not ready. I mean I don’t have a way to prevent, ah…” He stopped talking because she’d managed to unbutton his trousers and now wrapped a hand around him. Such a strange, hot, fascinating weight in her hands. 

“Now,” she whispered.

He stripped off the last of his clothes and hers, and his naked skin felt shockingly hot on her.

“I shan’t spend in you,” he whispered. “But there is a chance you might
end up with a child.” He grinned down at her as if this thought made him happy.

A child? Surely a baby could not be the worst fate. What would she do? What would they do? He would not abandon her, not Gideon. He kissed her softly again. Though she felt his arousal against her, he had retreated back to the start, to the more tentative kisses.

A child. Such a distant possibility could not matter—hadn’t she heard that the first time could not matter? And if it was a lie. God, no, she craved him. Need ruled her, swamped her limbs and mind.

“Please,” she said.

He slid his hands and lips along her inner thighs. His hands and mouth touched her, until she yanked at his hair, and bowed her back. “Now!”

He obeyed.

They came together slowly.

“Is it painful?”

She nodded.

He began to pull away but she grabbed him. “Wait,” she panted.
But she wasn’t going to let mild discomfort stop her from understanding every bit of the experience. She needed Gideon and she might never have him again.

He held himself
above her, allowing her to pull him down, down…and there. He was inside and they lay skin to skin.

“All right?” he whispered.
“You are so tight.”

He was too large, yet she could feel her own arousal
rising again, at the astounding thought of a man inside her. Gideon in her, at last. She felt helpless under him and wanted the rest, immediately.

The shadow of “after” lay deep inside her, even deeper than Gideon did. She wanted to roar at the future and chase it away so she could enjoy this splendid present.

She made the effort to banish uncomfortable facts and, when he kissed her, openmouthed and ravenous, that determination became easy. He lifted his head and moved a little.

“Now,” she said
and bit the crook of his neck.

Of course, Lizzy would be eager and strong and fearless. God, Gideon needed to move. He needed her. He cupped her backside, his knuckles against the wood of his desk, and he moved inside her.

He thought of deadlines and, in a desperate attempt to slow himself, tried to list employees and imagined what they might say if they knew what happened on his desk right now. His desk.
His woman under him and around him, on his desk, hot and saying his name.

She gave a small cry and held him close, legs wrapped so tight he had trouble moving. And then, when she released him again, he found his own release, panting her name, her real name, his fingers framing her face as he
kissed her again and again.

He
kissed her and thought, “Everything has changed.”

They dressed quickly and, together, piled the papers back on the desk. She soon hurried out of the office, with a “Goodbye, sir,” as if pretending nothing had changed between them. He wanted to chase her down but decided she must have a reason to escape him temporarily. He only hoped it wasn’t regret.

When
he’d done enough work, and he couldn’t stand it any longer, Gideon sent a messenger after her.

He didn’t have too long to wait. In less than twenty minutes, s
he came to his door and greeted him with a shy smile that made him weak-kneed with relief.

“You
’re well?” he asked, suddenly awkward. Lizzy, naked and spread across his desk—the memory made his breath hitch with a fresh onslaught of desire.

Her s
mile broadened and her eyes softened. “Yes.”

“Good.
The
Clarion
is put to bed, so you can come with me to celebrate.” He had notions of putting her to bed as well—his own.

She settled into one of the comfortable chairs next to his desk. “No.
I…no. Thank you.”

“You won
’t come home with me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She didn
’t look at his desk, but she waved in its direction. “That was a moment of wildness.”

He couldn
’t help smirking. “Yes. It was. Let’s have more.”

She shook her head
again. “You are my employer, but not in that capacity.”

“
Do you resent what we did?”

“
No. It hurt at first, but I loved it, even the hurt. Don’t you see? More than that and you’d be the sort of employer Petersly offered to be.” She sighed and slumped into the chair. “I wonder if he’d have wanted me to go live in that house.”

“
Are we finished, then?” He tried to sound casual. Difficult when he felt the urge to grab her and inform her that she belonged to him. “I mean shall we be friends?” He hoped she didn’t hear the bitterness in his voice.

“
I don’t know.” She sounded wretched and that was good only because it meant she cared.

Gideon didn
’t want to lead his life without having her again. Nothing, not even Langham House, seemed as vital as having Lizzy. “If you don’t know, who the hell does?”

She looked puzzled then as if he
’d asked a real question. “I don’t know.”

He knew, down to his toes, that they
were right for each other. He wouldn’t shout, so his voice sounded strangled as he asked, “Is that all you can say? I think I preferred it when your only word was ‘now’.”

She smoothed her skirt with gloved hands
. “I’ve never wanted to be anything more than a reporter. It has been my goal since I was a girl. I’ve never planned on anything more.”

He drew in a long breath and held it, forcing himself to stay quiet until she finished.

“But then again, I had never fallen in love before.”

Fireworks. Band music. Angels singing. Yes, yes, this was the answer. He couldn
’t understand why in God’s name she still wore a troubled frown.

“
We shall find a solution,” he declared. “I strongly suspect that I will no longer be engaged at any minute.”

“
Good God, I hope not.”

“
Of course not. And then, my girl, we will find the most perfect solution possible. You go home and rest, and I shall daydream of you on my desk again.”

Lizzy blushing was a lovely sight. He
’d have to work at making it happen often.

The ecstasy created by being the first to publish a big story and of making love with the woman he adored lasted approximately a day. The story appeared in the evening edition.

The
icy note from Lady Edith canceling their plans didn’t surprise him, and he only sighed as he wondered if he should answer it. Nor was he unduly upset by the horrible expletive-laden letter from Petersly that arrived at nine p.m.

The end to joy came early the next morning with
an anonymous note, written on a typewriting machine. It was three pages long and all about the woman he loved.

He reminded himself that he would need proof
of the allegations and an anonymous note didn’t qualify as any sort of proof. Yet he couldn’t help noticing that the letter writer seemed to know all about Lizzy and her ambition.

She has a history of this behavior,
the letter writer claimed.
She is so eager to get the story, she will manufacture proof for her claims. Make certain she produces the evidence supporting her articles.

Rather than summon him,
Gideon tracked down Rupert the editor, who was arriving early as he always did after a big story.

“Of course you chec
ked every detail of Miss Tildon’s account.”

The editor tilted his head to the side. “
I read it and corrected any errors in grammar. She writes very clean copy.”

“It
’s in a newspaper. You are the editor, so you checked the papers, her evidence.”

Rupert rubbed his mouth.
“Well, sir. I, uh… I didn’t. Because I thought… Well. It’s Miss Tildon, sir. I didn’t actually see because she, well, you… You said we would go with the story and I supposed that you…uh.” He must have seen Gideon’s expression, because his words simply trickled away.

Gideon closed his eyes. “
I recall a statement I once overheard you saying to a reporter. You said, ‘If the Lord God comes into the newsroom and hands you a story, you check the sources.’”

“Yes, but
I supposed you had, because she said you’d given the go-ahead, and this was Miss Tildon, and she and you…” Rupert sat down again heavily. “Oh no.”

“
Even the Lord God, Mr. Rupert. And I am not he.” Gideon didn’t bother wasting time on any more anger. He couldn’t very well fire the man most responsible for slipshod journalism—himself.

“Come on, let
’s look.” He and Rupert walked quickly to her office, which was empty at this hour. The desk was messier than he’d seen it before; the drawers open. Had someone been searching her desk?

Only
papers were scattered across the surface, and certainly no bank ledgers. Gideon looked through the notes. They were all written in Lizzy’s hand. Some of them looked like interviews, but for other stories.

“She
’ll be here soon, if she isn’t already in the building,” Rupert said. “Should we wait here for her?”

“No. And I
’ll take care of this.” Gideon couldn’t bear the thought of confronting Lizzy with witnesses present.

“Sir?”

“Go back to work, Rupert.”

“Yes, sir.” Rupert hurried away, no doubt delighted to escape with his life and job.

Gideon returned to his office where he called for a messenger and wrote a note summoning her to his office. He tracked down a printer’s lad, who promised to search the premises for Miss Tildon.

She appeared soon after, slightly out of breath. “It
’s before my hours,” she said. Over Jenks’s shoulder, she gave him a small, shy smile, with just a touch of the devil—and for a heartbeat, he forgot everything and smiled back at her.

Jenks closed the door
, and Gideon walked behind his desk to stop himself touching her.

“
Please, sit,” he said.

Her smile vanished and she sat.
“Good morning,” she said.

He shook his head.
“I’m not sure.” He handed her the letter and sat to watch her.

She read it, all the while shaking her head.
“This is crazy.”

Yes. That
’s exactly what he wanted to hear and wanted to believe.

If the poisonous lett
er writer was right, his paper would be a laughingstock and, worse, open to lawsuits. He’d have lost all for nothing. But all of that remained an outside distraction to the heart of the matter: Trudy Tildon would be a liar and a cheat. The woman he loved would have besmirched men’s reputations to get her name on the front page.

He reminded himself that sh
e’d refused to write those stories about society because she didn’t want to hurt anyone.

She
’d refused to write them because they wouldn’t advance her precious career.

“
Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. “Do you believe this nonsense?”

“
It hardly matters what I believe. Rupert and I need to see your evidence.” He attempted a smile. “It’s a little late to have the lawyers review it, but better late than never, eh? And records of interviews.” Yes, a return to business would ease the burning fear and anger. “The documents you mentioned—the ledgers, for instance.”

“
Of course.” She bounced out of the chair. “I was going to take it to the police this morning, but your messenger showed up at the door.”

Had he sent the lad to her address? He
’d ordered the boy to look through the offices… Never mind. He was clearly as befuddled as a man who’d spent several days on a bender.

She interrupted his grim thoughts. “
I’ll go fetch it all. I left it at my boardinghouse.”

“
What? Why do you have it there instead of in your office?”

She shrugged.
“There is not much room in that office. Anyway, I grew used to working at my home in New York. And I…I was trying to stay away from you. I kept wishing I could talk to you, ask for your help.”

He managed to keep his tone steady.
“Indeed? Did you?” This had to be a lie. She never worked with anyone else, except Oyster.

Her eyes reflected pain.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”

He rose to his feet.
“Let’s clear this up. I have a busy schedule ahead of me.”

The anxious look vanished
, and she nodded. “Yes, of course. I’ll get a cab, a hansom, and return as soon as I’m able.”

“
Did you walk around with armfuls of papers?”

“
No. I used a newsboy’s carrier.”

She left
, and he stared down at the letter on his desk. There was a second page that he hadn’t shown her.
She’ll claim her proof and notes have been stolen. Trudy Tildon has done it before. Why do you think she took your job so eagerly? The New York papers know all about her unsavory methods.

Nonsense. He
’d heard no such stories in New York when he’d tracked her down. But the doubt began to fill him. She had story after successful story. Could she have truly unearthed all of those stories herself? Or had she possibly invented one…or two.

Unable to remain still, he left his office. Jenks sat smoking a pipe at his desk, watching Gideon.
Rupert was hiding, but an assistant editor informed Gideon that the outraged letters had been pouring into the office since early that morning. A wonderful sign that the story was either going to make or break the
Clarion
.

Gideon couldn
’t wait another moment and grabbed a hansom himself. He gave the driver Lizzy’s address.

Lizzy’s landlady met him at the front door, her full mouth drawn into a frown. “She’s upset and raising quite a fuss,” she whispered. “I hadn’t seen signs of her aristocratic background until this morning.”

“
What is the matter?” he asked as if he didn’t know.

“
She is saying someone broke into her room. She’s missing some important papers.”

The heavy sorrow winged
deep into his heart. “Is that possible? Did you have a trespasser?”

“
I should hope not. My ladies, who live here, you see—two are still asleep and the other two are not on the premises, and I stepped out for a bit of shopping. But I expect the maid would have heard something if someone walked into the house.”

“
Are there any other signs? Are you missing anything?”

She shook her head.
“I said that I would call the police, but Miss Drury said that she’d like to wait. Some of what she had, she’d borrowed, she explained.”

Gideon fidgeted with the hat he held in his hand.
“Would you please tell Miss Drury I am waiting here for her?” He indicated the small sitting room off the entrance. “May I wait here for her?”

She nodded and lumbered up the stairs.

He slumped into a chair and waited. All the actions he should have taken before running that story, all of his mistakes would soon haunt him. But at the moment, all he could think of was Lizzy. If it was true… Poor, sad woman.

Her mother’s jewels still lay in the bureau drawer, and Lizzy’s room had been neat until she ripped it apart looking for the satchel with the originals and the valise with the copy. Mrs. Pruitt had been taken aback and then mildly offended by her suggestion that someone had walked into the house. But how else could the newsboy’s sack and all of the papers have gone missing? Perhaps Oyster could have come to fetch the stuff to take back to the barrister’s office?