Unraveling Secrets (The Secret Trilogy) (24 page)

He seemed to take an internal assessment before answering. “I believe it
’s gone as well.”

She studied his face to see if he told the truth. Though exhaustion showed in the shadows beneath his eyes, the tension in his fac
e had eased.

His hand covered hers where it rested boldly on his thigh. Her cheeks flooded with embarrassment as she realized how intimately she was touching him, t
hat she knelt between his legs.

Oh, dear heavens!

“I’m sure you’re very tired. I should be going now and let you rest.” She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze, but as she tried to pull her hand out from under his, he wrapped his long, warm fingers around hers.

“Not so fast.”

Her stomach danced. Her gaze caught on the open neck of his shirt where his skin was visible. Desire speared through her as she imagined kissing the hollow of his throat where his pulse beat. Something about that vulnerable spot drew her.

“Abigail.”

Her gaze jerked up to his, certain he’d guessed her wayward thoughts.

“How did you learn to do that?”

Embarrassed, she decided there was nothing to be done except tell the truth. When he realized what a fraud she was, she had no doubt he’d be angry with her and rightfully so. “I found a book on the subject at Mr. Larson’s bookstore. The author suggested if you focus both mentally and visually, you can enter a meditative state. He advised that it can be used for pain and other ailments.”

Stephen stared at her.

“Truly. In fact, the author, a Scottish physician, used it on himself to treat his rheumatism pain.” Abigail knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t stop. “I’d thought to suggest it to my solicitor who suffers from a similar ailment, but then here you were...”

When Stephen remained quiet, she tugged her fingers out of his and rose. She reminded herself that he
’d already yelled at her. Surely she’d already suffered the worst he could deliver. She shook out her gown to remove the wrinkles—anything to keep busy as she tried to think of something else to say.

Stephen stood as well. Before she could step back, he took both her hands in his, and kissed the back of each in turn. “You are an amazing woman.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you.” She was breathless with surprise at his gesture and pleased he wasn’t angry after all.

He drew her closer. “No. I would like to thank
you
.” He put his finger under her chin and touched his lips to hers. “Your talents never cease to surprise me.”

“I
’d be happy to lend you the book if you’d like.” She lifted her mouth to his, hoping for another kiss.

His gaze held hers for a long moment, their seriousness giving her pause. “I don
’t think you fully understand what you did.”

“Oh?”

“You saved me.” His words hardly had time to register before he took her mouth with his.

The intensity of his kiss caused her heart to stutter. Never had she been kissed like this, as though he branded her as his own. A tide of desire swept through her and she
clung to the moment. The feel of his lips on hers, the taste of brandy on his tongue, the rough stubble along his jaw, all merged to overwhelm her. His arms held her so tightly, she was certain he’d never let her go.

“Thank you,” he whispered. His hands moved to grip her upper arms then
pushed her gently back.

She stumbled, barely able to stand after the onslaught of his kiss. Her body felt cold, bereft of his warmth.
His action thoroughly confused her.

He gave her a stiff smile, his jaw clenched. “I truly appreciate your assistance.”
He turned her toward the library door. “You’ve given me a gift that I did not deserve, and I—” He shook his head as he escorted her into the hall.

That was it? One moment he said she
’d saved him and now he was showing her out? That’s all his kiss had been—gratitude?

Before she could form a coherent word, she stood outside on the front step disoriented and very much alone.

Thomas hopped down from the carriage. “Ready, miss?”

“I suppose so
.” She glanced back at the door, still unable to fathom what had happened.

So...very...odd.

***

Stephen leaned against the door and closed his eyes. He
’d told her the truth. The pounding in his head was gone. The dark despair had passed. In its place was an ache that demanded satisfaction.

That he
’d found the strength to put her out the door was astounding. In truth, he’d wanted nothing more than to carry her to his bed and remove her clothing layer by layer so he could thoroughly enjoy her.

He
’d savor every inch of her luminescent skin, then press his lips to her softness, find every nook and cranny that made her moan.

He
’d make her his again.

Yet after what she
’d just done for him—lifted him from one of his worst bouts ever, he couldn’t repay her by giving in to his own desires.

No, he
’d done the right thing.

They couldn
’t possibly indulge in an affair. Nor could he offer her marriage. How could he ever be a decent husband when he risked his life on a regular basis, when he suffered from the terrible headaches and the despair that so often accompanied them?

The best option for her was to find a man who
’d care for her and marry her and give her the family she didn’t yet realize she wanted.

The thought of her with a husband and babe made him ill. He feared the situation was worse than he
’d thought.

Abigail was winding her way into his heart.

“My lord?” Winston’s voice came from the end of the entryway. “Are you still...indisposed?”

Stephen ope
ned his eyes to glare at him. He had half a mind to send him packing for allowing Abigail into the library. Lucky for Winston that it had ended well. “Yes, but for a different reason entirely.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind. I don’t understand it either.” He heaved a sigh of frustration and made his way up the stairs, adjusting his trousers and reciting Latin phrases along the way.

***

The next morning, Abigail made her way to Mr. Nesbitt’s office in Old Square with Thomas. They both watched for Simmons, Thomas nearly as nervous as she.

The tension of the situation was wearing on her, but she had no idea what
more she could do. Until Simmons was caught, she had to make the best of it. Staying locked inside was not an option. She had a life to live, including business to conduct. Somehow, hiding away seemed like letting Simmons win.

Perhaps she should try some self-hypnosis of her own to relieve her stress. She still couldn
’t believe it had worked on Stephen. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten to tell him of Simmons’ appearance at the park so had settled instead on sending him a message this morning. While a cowardly way to inform him, it was as much as she could manage after the events of yesterday. Her uncertainty of how to handle their changing relationship added to her worry. She didn’t want to become overly dependent on him.

As she reached for the door of her solicitor
’s office, it flew open. She jumped back, startled, nearly losing her balance.

“Miss Bradford!” Mr. Nesbitt exclaimed. “I
’m terribly sorry.” He reached out to take her arm, his hand shaking.

“Whatever is the matter?” Abigail
had never seen the calm, collected man so overwrought.

“
My office was broken into.”

Abigail
’s thoughts immediately jumped to Simmons. The coincidence was too great. It had to have been him. “Have you sent for the police?”

“Yes, yes. I was just looking outside to see if they
’d arrived.” His shoulders sagged, and he gestured inside. “Whoever it was left a terrible mess but, please, do come in.”

Abigail entered w
ith Thomas directly behind her.

Though the foyer appeared undisturbed, the door to Mr. Nesbitt
’s office stood ajar, the wood near the jam in splinters. Abigail looked into the room and realized what had the solicitor so upset. Papers were strewn everywhere. Shelves had been broken. The desk drawers sat askew, some removed completely. The thief’s search had been destructive, leaving a mess in his wake.

“I can
’t imagine who did this or what they were looking for. I keep nothing of true value here.” Mr. Nesbitt shook his head. “I don’t know yet if anything is missing. I didn’t want to go through things until the police have a look.”

Guilt sat heav
y on Abigail’s shoulders. Though she knew this was not her fault, she still felt as though she were to blame. Yet another person in her life had been affected by Simmons. “I can’t help but wonder if this has something to do with me.”

Mr. Nesbitt
’s eyes went wide. “Whatever do you mean?”

“We have not yet stopped Vincent Simmons. His actions grow
rasher each day. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was his doing.”

“Why would he search my office?”

“I don’t know. Looking for information on my family perhaps? It seems too great of a coincidence that you and I both had a break-in of late.” She bit her lip, deciding against telling him of the rock for which Simmons searched.

He took off his glasses and polished them on his handkerchief with shaking hands. “I can assure you there was little here that pertained to your investments. In fact, I had taken your file
home with me last night to prepare for our meeting this morning.”

Abigail took some comfort in that. “The less he can find out about us, the better.
” She eyed the muddle. “It will take hours to put all your files back together. I’m terribly sorry about this.”

He looked up in surprise. “Miss Bradford, it isn
’t your fault. You haven’t done anything.”

“And therein lies my worry
.” She’d been so caught up in her personal relationship with Stephen, so intent on avoiding the awkwardness that was sure to come next time she saw him, that she hadn’t told him of Simmons showing up in the park. And now this had happened.

“What
was that?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to reschedule our meeting. I did complete the documents needed for the investment in the bookstore.” He reached for a pile he’d set on a nearby table and handed them to her. “Those are the only papers of which I know the whereabouts. I hope the police hurry. The chaos is driving me mad.”

“
I’m sure they’ll arrive soon. I’ll return the papers at our next meeting.” She turned to leave.

“Miss Bradford, do be careful. You must take all
possible precautions in case Vincent Simmons truly is behind this.” Mr. Nesbitt held her gaze. “He’s dangerous.”

“Yes, indeed he is.” Of that she had no doubt.
She needed to speak with Stephen about the latest development. If Simmons was growing more aggressive, then they needed to do so as well. Whether Stephen agreed with her or not remained to be seen.

“My lord?”

Stephen looked up from the newspaper he read at his desk in the library. The sparkle in his butler
’s eyes was rather alarming. “Yes?”

“Miss Bradford is here to see you.”

He set down the paper, his heart picking up its pace.

His butler
’s fondness for Abigail had grown even more since her performance the previous day. Winston’s admiration for her was one more dent in the shield Stephen had built to keep her at a distance. He’d hoped to delay another meeting with her as long as possible. At least until he’d regained some control. Until he could trust himself to be in the same room with her and not make love to her.

But a
pparently a day could not pass without her visiting him. How could he maintain his defenses? “See her in.”

Before he could
rise, she burst into the room.

“You do realize your daily v
isits will cause people to talk,” he said as he stood.

Those blue eyes stared at him nonplussed. She obviously had other things on her mind. “We have much more important matters to attend to than gossip, my lord. I fear Simmons has struck again.” The tremor in her voice
alarmed him.

“What
’s happened?”

She sat down in the chair before his desk, much to his relief. He had high hopes of keeping the large p
iece of furniture between them. Yet he realized the desk was no guard against his growing feelings for her.

The tilt of her head, the dent in her chin, the way she bit her lower lip, all appealed to him in a way he’d never felt before.
Even her determination charmed him. He pushed aside his thoughts as she explained the incident at Hyde Park the previous day as well as the visit to her solicitor’s.

“There
’s no proof Simmons was behind the break-in,” Stephen felt obligated to point out.

“Please. I don
’t believe in coincidences.”

“You and Weston.”

“Pardon me?”

“Never mind. I
’m relieved to hear your sisters were unharmed.”

She put a gloved hand to her mouth as though to hold back her emotions. “Yes. But the sight of him anywhere near them...”

“I understand.” It tore at his heart to see her upset. He ran his fingers through his hair, frustration mounting at the situation. “What of Mr. Nesbitt’s office. Was anything missing?”

“He
’s still checking and has promised to let me know as quickly as possible.” She took a deep breath. “You must see that the time has come to take action. This can’t continue.”

“We have been taking action. With a little more time, we
’ll be able to resolve the entire situation.” Dread coursed through him as he saw her golden aura dim.

“Are you reading my aura?” she asked.

He blinked, realizing he’d given himself away. “I was simply admiring your hair.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don
’t believe you.”

He shrugged. At least he
’d succeeded in distracting her, if only momentarily.

“As I was saying,” she continued as she glared at him, “More aggressive action is needed. Simmons is running rampant. I cannot allow him to hurt the people
for whom I care.”

Stephen leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, hoping he could instill some caution and reason in her. “Abigail, I realize you
’re frustrated by what you see as a lack of progress, but I’d remind you of how much we’ve learned already. A slow and steady path—”

Abigail bolted to her feet. “Slow and steady has gotten us nothing!” Her chest rose and fell with her upset. “We
must
do something more else Simmons will be knocking on my door, knife in hand, to take what he wants by force.”

Stephen couldn
’t deny what she said. He wanted nothing more than to remove the threat to her and her family. Yet his instinct told him they needed more information—who Simmons worked with, what they intended. But how to keep Abigail and her family safe
and
stop the wheels Simmons had set in motion?

Knowing he might regret the question, he asked,
“Do you have something in mind?”

She drew a deep breath
. “We lure him to a place and time of our choosing.”

“How?”

Another dark surge flared in her aura, making his insides twist. “By using me. We’ll get a message to him that I’ll give him the stone he seeks in exchange for his promise to leave us alone.”

“His promise?” He let
doubt shade his tone.

She nodd
ed but her confidence faltered.

“You
’d accept the
promise
of the man who killed your father?” Though he didn’t want to hurt her, he had to make her see the truth in order to keep her safe. “You’d trust
him
to keep his word?”

Her chin lifted. “If the only reason he bothers my family and friends is because of the
bloody rock, then yes. I suggest we give it to him.”

“And if he doesn
’t keep his word?”

“I don
’t believe it will come to that.” Her back was ramrod straight, her shoulders stiff.

He could see he wouldn
’t reach her this way. A new tactic was needed. He leaned back in his chair. “What do you think he wants with the rock?”

“I
’ve no idea, nor do I care.”

“Surely you
’re curious.”

She blinked several times. “In truth, I haven
’t thought about it overmuch.”

“A murderer,” Stephen said, noting her flinch at the term, “works for someone who bribes officials at Newgate to allow him to switch places with
another criminal. He then serves ten years in prison, and upon his release, one of the first things he does is seek out a rock he claims to be in your possession.”

With a huff, she sat back in her chair. “All I want is for him to go away. For my stepmother and sisters never
to be confronted by him. If giving him the rock will protect them, so be it.”

“But why does he want that particular
one?” He stepped around the desk despite his good intentions to keep away. How could he when he only wanted to gather her in his arms and reassure her?

“I assume because it
’s valuable. Perhaps it contains some rare ore or something. I don’t really care why.”

Stephen leaned down, putting his hands on the arms of her chair, his ire rising at her obstinacy. “What if he somehow uses it to hurt
others?”

Her gaze lifted to his, not backing down. “How? How can a rock hurt anyone?”

“If it’s used as part of something else.”

“Such as what?” The disbelief in her tone made him realize how outlan
dish the whole scenario sounded.

He stepped back, berating himself for not being more forthright with her, for not sharing his suspicions about the scientist involved in electromagnetism.
But he feared that if he told her everything, this determined, impulsive woman would seek her own solution to the problem. That would place her in even more danger. The best he could do was offer the tip of the iceberg. “I think the rock Simmons wants is a rare lunar meteorite said to possess qualities useful in science.”

Abigail scoffed. “I have a difficult time believing Simmons is interested in science.” She held up her hand as Stephen opened his mouth to protest. “And
, yes, I do remember the prison warder telling us Simmons bragged that he had ties to a scientist.”

“I
’m not saying Simmons is the one who’s involved in science. But it appears the person he’s working for is,” Stephen argued.

The scowl on her face spoke volumes
and nearly made him smile.

“Weston is helping me track down the true name of the person who leased the warehouse Simmons was at. We hope to unearth additional information in the coming days.”

“That may be too late.” She rose and moved to stand before him. “What if we give him the rock and then follow him? We could see where he takes it.”

Stephen shook his head
. The thought of her anywhere near Simmons again made his stomach turn. “That carries far too much risk. Simmons has already proven his ability to disappear on the streets. Abigail, we have plans in place to lure out Simmons, but we need more time to ensure he doesn’t slip through the trap we set.”

“I still think
—”

A knock sounded at the door and
Winston appeared. “Lord Weston is waiting outside in his carriage. He says it’s urgent that you join him.”

“Of course. I
’ll be right there.” Stephen’s excitement rose. “With luck, this will lead us to the true mastermind of the plan.”

“I want to come with you.”

Stephen took hold of Abigail’s arms. “No. It’s too dangerous. I want you somewhere safe. Return home and I’ll send word if anything arises.”

“But
—”

“Have patience, Abigail. We
’re nearly there.” Without a second thought, he pressed his lips to hers for a quick goodbye. The sweetness of her mouth ignited a flame before he could pull away. With a groan, he plundered for a brief moment, stunned at the passion that arose when he touched her.

He
drew back, wanting nothing more than to stay. Yet the desperate desire he had for her was exactly why he had to go. “I’ll let you know if we find anything.”

A dark surge showed in her aura, giving him pause. “You
’ll go home?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said.
But she didn’t meet his gaze.

“Abigail, I promise to advise you of what we find as soon as I can.”
Guilt shot through him, for he knew he couldn’t tell her everything. He reminded himself it was for her own safety.

She nodded.

Somehow, her agreement didn’t reassure him in the least.

***

“He’s not going to like this, miss.” Thomas shook his head as Abigail explained what she wanted.

“With luck, he won
’t know. We’re only going to follow them long enough to find out where they’re going.” She stepped into the carriage and took a seat. “Hurry. We don’t want to lose them.”

“He
’ll have my head,” Thomas muttered as he secured the carriage door.

“In whose employ are you?” For heaven
’s sake, how had Stephen become such a big part of their lives that her servant worried what he’d think?

“Yours, miss,” came his muffled response.

Thomas’s lack of enthusiasm for their task did not help her nerves. In truth, he was right. Stephen would be furious if he found out. She hesitated, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that Stephen wasn’t telling her the full truth of the matter. How could she determine how best to protect her family if she didn’t have all the facts?

She only
wanted to see where they were going. That should be enough to tell her the type of information they’d discovered. She and Thomas would follow at a safe distance. There shouldn’t be any harm in that.

The carriage jerked forward
, leaving her to wonder if Thomas had done so on purpose.

If St
ephen had been more forthcoming, perhaps she’d be content to wait for word from him, but that hadn’t been the case. A more secretive man she’d never met.

She touched her gloved hand to her lips
, remembering the way his kiss had sent her head spinning. Maybe she could blame her impetuous behavior on temporary insanity. She shook her head. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit that her feelings were more than temporary. Much more.

So many things about Stephen appealed to her. The way he smiled with his eyes before amusement curved the corner of his mouth. The way he gave her his complete attention when they spoke
as though what she said was truly important to him. His many acts of kindness for the children who crossed his path. He was a complicated man full of secrets and layers which both fascinated and maddened her.

She closed her eyes and admitted the truth
—she’d become far too dependent on him. That needed to come to an end. Though she could no longer envision her life without him, he seemed intent on keeping a wall between them.

A glance out
the curtained window of the carriage told her they were once again moving toward the East End. The hard look of the streets gave her pause. The risks of this neighborhood were nothing with which to be trifled. Their carriage, while understated, would still draw unwanted attention.

Torn, she tried to weigh the danger against the benefits as the carriage
slowed and drew to a halt, taking the choice out of her hands.