The Scarlet Bride (18 page)

“I was returning a picnic basket to my cousin’s cook when he stepped out onto the path in front of me. The look in his eyes made me uneasy. When I tried to pass, he took my arm. I threatened to scream but he only laughed and released me.” She sighed. “That evening he came to the cottage, full of charm, and spoke to my father about what a match between us could provide me. Within hours I was betrothed.”

“Your father didn’t ask your opinion on the matter?”

“He knew he had no more than a few days left to live. He was so weak. After he died, I would have no one.”

“Westwick knew how desperate your situation would become,” Simon agreed. “The bastard.”

Laura sighed. “The next afternoon we were wed at Father’s bedside. We spent our wedding night in the woodcutter’s cottage to be close to Father. Westwick wanted to stay at an inn. That night was the only time he ever gave in
to my wishes.” She turned her eyes away. “I was miserable. I begged the earl to let me stay with Father during his last hours. Instead he dragged me off to London with only a brief good-bye.”

Her throat tightened and she swallowed. “The first beating was two days later, after I’d heard of Father’s death. Westwick despised my tears and punished me for failing to stop weeping when he commanded. That was also the night he told me our wedding was false.”

“The bastard,” Simon muttered. His jaw clenched.

For the first time, Laura realized that Westwick was lucky to be dead. There was something nefarious happening behind those icy blue eyes. Simon Harrington was clearly contemplating murder.

S
imon saw wariness on Laura’s face and struggled to settle his temper. It was a difficult task. He couldn’t soothe her when he wanted to kill the already dead Westwick.

Beating a woman for grieving? His blood pumped hot through his veins. In spite of this, he managed to unclench his fists and jaw.

He braced himself. “Tell me everything.”

As the coach rumbled through the streets of London with no particular destination, Laura emotionlessly told him everything she knew about Westwick. Unveiled was a tragic play: his opium abuse, his gambling, his common street prostitutes, all of which he flaunted under her nose.

“He thought I would be inflamed with jealousy over the women.” Her mouth twitched and her eyes took on a wicked gleam. “I pretended hurt and anger, playing his game. Truthfully, they gave me a reprieve from his attentions. So the more he thought he’d hurt me, the more he sought them out. It meant less time I spent in his bed.”

Simon smiled. “He never could tame his courtesan.”

At the statement, she smiled back. “Had the auction
gone through, he would have broken me. I couldn’t allow that to happen. I had to be free.”

The coach turned into Hyde Park. Simon had paid the driver well to keep driving until he indicated otherwise.

“I remember a story about a Frenchman who tamed tigers. He put on a show in Paris. One day a tiger, tired of the whip and the cage, turned on the man and killed him.” Simon cupped his hand on her face. “You cannot tame a wild thing. It was his fatal mistake.”

She looked sidelong at him. In her eyes was an invitation he couldn’t misinterpret.

He dipped his head and kissed her, her lips soft and pliant beneath his. She moaned. Simon tangled his hand in her hair, and she opened up to deepen the kiss.

She was so sweet, so strong, and so beautiful.

When he ended the kiss, she smiled softly. “I will never tire of your kisses.”

Simon grinned. “I do like to please.”

Her smile turned pensive. She glanced out the window as a well-sprung coach and four passed at a fine clip. “What a pair we are. A courtesan”—she turned back to him with an apologetic shrug at his scowl—“and a future earl. Had we met under different circumstances, you might have asked me to dance or to take a turn around a drawing room, under the watchful eye of a chaperone, of course. You may have kissed my hand or asked my father if I could take a drive in your carriage.”

“I’m not fond of chaperones,” he offered. “You cannot steal kisses while they hover.”

Her lovely gray eyes sparkled in the dim coach. “Of course, as a poor squire’s daughter, I would have been beneath your notice in a room full of fine noble ladies.”

“It is impossible to think you could be in any room, no matter how crowded, and not catch my eye.”

“You were born to make a prudent match, Simon, with a woman like Lady Jeanette. Once you tire of this desire to save me from my ills, you will convince her to marry you and forget me. That is how it should be.”

Laura was right. This was not his future. Though he knew he couldn’t rest until she was saved from a hangman’s noose, anything beyond was not possible. She’d never consent to be his mistress indefinitely, and he needed Lady Jeanette to help Brenna make a match with Lord Abbot.

She reached out to touch his hand. “Simon, please forget about catching the killer. Miss Eva will help me flee somewhere far away where I can begin a new life. Eventually, the murder will be forgotten.”

“And a killer will go free,” Simon countered bitterly. “I cannot allow it. There may be future victims. How can I know if a man who dances with Brenna or takes tea with my parents or sits across from me at White’s isn’t a killer?”

“Simon, please,” she beseeched. “Let the Runners do their job. I cannot bear the thought of you in danger.”

He scowled and withdrew his hand. “The Runners are singularly focused on Sabine. They will not look elsewhere when they have their suspect set in their minds.”

L
aura slumped back, defeated. “You are a stubborn man.” She ignored his frown. She fell silent as they passed out of the park. She hated the idea of Simon running around London, digging into dark alleys and under piles of refuse for clues. But it was her next thought that brought her head up. The solution was right at hand.

She crossed her arms. “How will you know where to start your investigation? The men at the party have not come forward as witnesses. They will be one in their silence. To admit their presence could make them suspects.”

From his expression, she knew she’d hit her mark.

Satisfied she’d stopped his investigation before it began, Laura smiled slyly. “Only I have seen them. Several anyway, and I will not put you in danger.”

Simon met her eyes. “I have ways of getting the information from you.” He kissed her again.

She smiled under his lips, then drew back. “You can seduce me senseless, and I will still keep my secrets. You must find a way to both assuage my fears and allow me to play a part in the investigation. It will help if I know you will not do anything foolish.”

“I never do anything foolish.”

Laura expelled a quick unbelieving laugh. “You attacked a pair of burly footmen to save me. You have risked the wrath of both your cousin and Miss Eva to befriend me, and you seduced me against all your reservations. Now you want to hunt down a murderer? And you tell me that you do not act foolishly?”

He leveled a frown at her and backed out of reach. “I would not consider saving you foolish,” he said, his voice tight. “As for the latter, I am disappointed over your certainty that I am to end this caper…dead.”

Realizing that no man wanted to be seen as less than strong and virile, she shook her head. “I spoke out of turn. I know that you can vanquish dragons and save damsels from locked towers with your manly sword and steed. But you are a man of honor. Murderers work from a different set of rules. This man will not hesitate to plunge a knife into your back. He has done so before.”

“Westwick was unaware of the danger.”

Laura flinched under his anger. She had certainly botched things up. She might well have called him a milksop or a whey-faced ninny.

Knowing there was only one way to redeem herself, she stood and pulled down first one shade, then the other. With a face full of apology, she climbed into his lap.

“I do want you to save me from the hangman, Milord.” She clutched his shoulders and pressed a kiss on his neck. “I need you to use your brute strength and cunning to find him and see him punished.” She kissed his chin before moving to the other side of his neck. “I will be very grateful for your assistance in the matter.”

His hands slipped up to cup her bottom. “You are mocking me.”

“Never.” She tugged at the buttons of his coat. “It has been a very long time since a man offered me his protection. I fear I am unused to such chivalry.” Once his coat was open, she pressed her breasts against his chest and stared into his eyes. “I will give you the information you seek under this condition.” Laura skimmed her lips over his. “I will be involved in the investigation.”

S
imon eased her back by the shoulders and frowned. “What exactly do you mean by ‘involved’? I thought you were against me endangering myself. Suddenly, you want to put yourself in danger, too?”

Laura pursed her lips. When she’d made the stipulation, she hadn’t put any thought into where her involvement would take her. She only knew that she didn’t want to hide away and let Simon take care of her. She’d had the strength to survive captivity with Westwick. She’d have the strength to follow the trail of the real killer, wherever it led.

“My life is already in danger. As long as a possible hanging looms over me, I cannot really start a new life.” She paused and smoothed his shirt. “I know the faces but not the names of the guests. I need to be where society congregates to put the two together. Once we uncover the identity of some of the auction invitees, you can confront the men to see what they know.”

She thought he’d refuse outright but knew that unless they could get the servants to speak to him, she was the only other witness to what happened in that house.

Hopeful, she continued, “Merchants and slavers also
came to bid. Finding those men will be harder and more dangerous. If we keep to men of society, then the danger will be minimal—unless one of them is the killer.”

It took a moment for his response. He stared at her mouth. His eyes softened. “Do you promise not to get yourself into mischief?”

“Certainly.” She smiled innocently. Simon’s left brow went up. He looked down to where her hands rested on his chest. She could feel the strength of his heartbeat.

His mouth twitched. “Why do I feel like I’m being led to the guillotine?” His hands caressed her bottom.

Laura made a face and tried to focus. It was difficult to keep her mind clear when he misbehaved.

A sensual assault rippled through her body. “What a dismal image. We should think of something else less grim.”

Simon grinned. “I can imagine a few more pleasant things to concentrate on.” He gently squeezed the rounded flesh. Her fingers flexed on his chest. In a moment, he’d have her on her back and panting with need. It was proving difficult to keep to her vow of chastity.

“You could charm a nun out of her habit,” she said soberly.

“I only want you.” He nuzzled her neck. “I wish I’d never let you seduce me. I cannot think while knowing what delights can be found under your clothing.”

At his growl, she giggled. “Would it help you to know how much I appreciate your restraint?”

“Not in the least.” He slid his mouth up to her ear. She wriggled as he tickled her skin. How easy it would be to let him love her as she wanted. But she was still an innocent squire’s daughter in spite of all that she’d suffered with Westwick. She’d taken her one night with Simon, a gift to herself. The next time she went to a man, it would be in their marital bed.

Years from now, she didn’t want to feel a single regret when she thought back on these stolen moments with Simon.

Laura looked forward to getting out of the courtesan
school and clearing her name. Well, Sabine’s name. And since they were one and the same, it would be her neck stretched if anything went awry. But she had confidence in Simon, and in herself.

“Well, I do,” she said softly. “Sharing your bed, though delightful, muddles the situation. I cannot think clearly when my life is so unsettled.” He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “I look forward to the day when I am truly free to make clear and confident decisions on my own, about my future, and about you. I hope you understand?”

“I know you long for freedom. It will happen.” He released her and drew back. The coach paused before making a right turn. “And if it means I must submit to cold baths in order to keep my armor shining bright, then so be it.”

She giggled. “You are a very honorable knight.”

“It’s a curse.” He took her hand and turned her arm up. He nibbled from her wrist to the crook of her arm and back. She watched him with a gentle smile as he tickled her skin.

“If you ever find that mixing yourself up in my troubles is too much of a trial and wish to step away, I will understand.” Laura eased her arm free. “You have already far exceeded your duties to me.”

Simon dipped his head and looked straight into her eyes. “We started this together, love. We will finish it together.”

Smiling, Laura leaned in and sealed their pact with a kiss.

C
ollingwood House?” Laura asked, her eyes wide. The mansion loomed as the coach drew to a halt on the drive. Three days had passed since their outing in the hackney with no word from Simon. She’d grown concerned about his absence.