Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 05] (23 page)

The masked rescuer cannot compare to this
, she marveled, as his lips caressed hers, teasing, exploring, tasting…

Suddenly he pulled back and she was bereft, until he lifted her to stand and pulled her into his arms.

His mouth claimed hers with a passion that stole the breath from her throat and weakened her knees. She clung to him, surrendering to the desire that had been building between them from the moment they’d met.

His mouth lit a fire deep within her, igniting desire so intense, she quivered.

His lips grew more insistent, his tongue more demanding. She met his kisses with a passion that matched his, owning the desire flaming between them.

Ripping off her bonnet, his fingers raked through her hair. He groaned deep in his throat, making her feel like the most desirable woman in the world.

His lips nipped the column of her neck and he murmured, “You smell so good.” She moaned. His tongue traced her ear. “You taste so good.” She shivered as desire pooled within her. Setting his mouth to her neck, he sucked.

Her head spun. Her mind went blank. She was lost. Her body was engulfed in the flames of his fiery desire.

“Ahem!” A cough. “Ahem!”

Steele looked up, his arms still wrapped around
her. Abigail clung to him, her body flaming, her mind spinning.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I must speak with Lord Steele.” Mr. Linder-Myer stood just a few feet away, leaning on his gold-topped cane and peering intently at them.

The world came crashing into Abigail’s consciousness. She was wrapped in Steele’s arms, ready to give him
everything
…and now Mr. Linder-Myer, the man responsible for placing her in this household, knew it, too. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks and she looked down, mortified.

“What is it?” Steele bit out.

“That
family
I was talking to you about.” The agency representative sniffed. “The one with the India connections.”

Steele straightened. “Progress?”

“Most definitely.”

Abigail’s heart skipped a beat.
A match! For Steele?

Steele’s gaze sought hers, apologetic. “I’m…I’m sorry. But I have to speak with Mr. Linder-Myer.”

He wouldn’t accept the match? Not when he’d just kissed her with such passion? Or would he? Fear sliced through her as sharp as a blade. Was she falling victim to honeyed words and sweet kisses once more? Was she playing the fool yet again? How could she have imagined that a lord, a viscount no less, would want her?

Perhaps as a mistress.

Never as a wife.

She was not worthy enough to make him a wife.
The pain in her heart was like a wound reopened, aching worse than the original injury.

But she wanted Steele more than she’d ever wanted any man before.

I love him.

The knowledge seeped deep into her bones, ensnaring her, owning her. From this day forth, her every action would be predicated on that basic truth.

How far are you willing to stoop to get him?
a shrill voice whispered in her mind.

Could she bear being the kept woman?

More importantly, could she bear to watch the man she loved wed another?

Steele pulled away, and only then did Abigail realize that she’d been clutching him. “I’m sorry but I have to go.”

“Yes, of course.” Her voice sounded dull even to her own ears.

Steele noted the dismay on her lovely features, and he hated being the cause of it. He was tempted to tell her about the plot against Benbrook…

But she seemed so fragile at the moment, so raw from telling her tale. He hated the idea of putting fear into her heart. And Sir Lee’s presence might indicate that the threat could already be gone. So where was the point in upsetting her further without cause?

Part of him realized that he didn’t want to tell her because he’d lied to her about his reasons for always keeping the boys with two adults. He also hadn’t corrected her when she’d surmised, along with everyone else, that yesterday’s attack had been directed at him. She’d had such terrible dealings with
nobles and employers, and he was afraid, he realized, that she’d categorize him with the lying bastards who’d abused her trust.

But ultimately it was because of that kiss that he did not tell her the truth and was ready to make his escape.

The kiss had shaken him to the core, and he was still reeling from it. His emotions were whirling, his ideas about himself, the future, Miss West…It was a bit too terrifying to consider.

So his mind veered away from having to make any decisions. He would deal with all of it later.

Later
, he promised himself, as the familiar panic of making himself vulnerable to another reared its ugly head.

“Later,” he murmured to her, rising and grabbing his coat. “We’ll talk more, later.”

Abigail watched the gentlemen go back into the house, her heart aching and her mind whirling. All the while, a familiar voice screamed shrilly inside her head,
What have you done?

S
teele entered his study with Sir Lee close at his heels. For a man his age, the old gent was pretty swift on his feet, Steele realized.

Sir Lee’s craggy face was not amused. “So you’re bedding the governess, now, eh?”

Gritting his teeth, Steele slammed the door. “It was one kiss.”

Sir Lee snorted. “Bullocks!”

“It’s none of your business.” Steele tried to keep his voice calm. He couldn’t think of Miss West right now, so mentally he closed the door on her sweet face, barring the feel of her softness in his arms, banning the taste of her honeyed lips from his mind. She’d been on fire, and so had he. But it had been more than mere passion. That kiss had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. It had overtaken him, emotionally and physically; he’d been ready to completely relinquish control. He, the man with a carefully ordered existence, had been ready to simply…
let go
.

Sir Lee scowled. “Benbrook won’t approve of the match. And thus he might not make you his heir.”

Steele shook his head, trying to shake off the memory of that kiss. “I’m not marrying her,” he murmured.

The former spymaster raised a brow. “Even I did not consider you so low.”

Guilt and anger and fear lashed through Steele, stinging like strokes of a whip. “I’m not toying with her!”

Sir Lee’s eyes narrowed. “Well, if you’re not marrying her and you’re not toying with her, then what are your intentions?”

“I…don’t…know,” Steele confessed, dropping into his chair. It squeaked noisily in protest as he settled behind his desk. He brushed his hand through his hair, muttering, “I have no earthly idea what I’m doing.”

Exhaling, Sir Lee lowered himself into the chair by the desk. “You’re thinking with the wrong head, is what you’re doing.”

“It’s not like that!”

“Then what is it like?”

Steele swallowed. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Adjusting the papers on his desk, he wouldn’t meet the man’s eyes.

“She has no family, no one to look out for her—”

“You’re volunteering for the job?”

The old gent stuck out his chin. “I introduced her to you. I brought her into this house—”

“I swear I won’t harm her. I just…I just can’t…” Coward that he was, he justified, “I just can’t think about the future right now when the boys are in danger. Why did you come here? What do you know?”

Leaning forward, Sir Lee gripped his gold-topped cane, glaring at Steele as if to see down into his soul.

“Please.” Steele hated the note of begging in his voice. “Please tell me what’s developed in the plot against Benbrook.”

Sir Lee harrumphed. “I’ll not let this matter go, you know. You must end this little…infatuation. It can only lead to disaster.” But then he leaned forward, seemingly relenting. “But you’re right, there have been some developments we need to discuss.”

Thank God
, Steele thought, relieved and guilt-ridden. Stupid sod that he was, he hadn’t thought this situation through with Miss West. He, the man who planned every step like a perfectly executed play…he’d lost his head where she was concerned. She had a way of making him
be
just inside that very moment, and not think past it.

That kiss.
It had swept him away—to a place where time stopped and there was nothing except
her
. It had been extraordinary…and
terrifying
.

Panic about committing to a woman once again lashed through him.

Sir Lee was right about one thing: Benbrook wouldn’t approve.

Nor would the match be seen as fortuitous by society’s standards. Steele knew what people would say. That he’d risen so high, come so far, but despite the title of viscount, he couldn’t escape his birth. The lowly commoner with unrefined tastes would stoop back to his former class to take his wife.

Deidre would be rolling over in her grave. He’d finally become the man she’d deserved…and then
he’d ruin it over a young miss with fair hair and luminous eyes. Was he out of his mind?

“Are you all right?” Sir Lee asked. “You look a little green about the gills.”

“No, ah, I’m fine.” Driving away all thoughts of Miss West once and for all, Steele looked up. “I beg of you, please tell me what’s developed.”

Sir Lee watched him, a funny look in his eye. “Word about town is that you are behind the threat against Benbrook’s family.”

Steele felt his brows rise to his hairline. “What?”

“Rumor is that you’ve set the whole thing up as a means of convincing Benbrook to make you his heir. Once you’ve been made heir and guardian of the children, then you’ll have everything that is his. Thus you’ll have your revenge against him for not accepting you into his family years ago.”

Leaning forward, Steele hammered his fist on the desktop. “You don’t believe that claptrap, do you?”

Tilting his head, Sir Lee examined Steele with sharp green eyes. “Is it true?”

“Stuff and nonsense!”

“How did you gain your title?”

Steele’s eyes narrowed. “Did you make up that rumor just to get me to tell you how I gained my title?”

“No. The rumor really is being circulated about town among the less reputable elements of society.”

Steele straightened. “Are they saying that I’ll pay if the boys or Benbrook are eliminated?”

“Yes.”

“Bloody, bloody hell!” Steele shoved his hand through his hair, trying to make his brain
work
. “How do I stop the rumors?”

“I don’t know that it’s possible.”

“Bloody, bloody hell!” Standing, Steele began to pace.

Sir Lee watched him with keen eyes. “Why are you so reticent to share how you saved the prince’s life?”

He turned away, scraping his brain for a way to keep the boys from danger when every scum-of-the-earth felon saw harming them as a payday. “If you know the story, then why do you keep asking me about it?”

“It’s a matter of ownership.”

Steele turned on his heel. “What the blazes does that mean?”

“It means you lead separate lives. One of which you will not own up to. It makes for a very unhealthy agent.”

Stopping in his tracks, Steele faced the former spymaster. “I’m not your agent! And I’d appreciate you keeping out of my life.” He knew that he was talking more about Miss West than about being a Sentinel, but the sentiment was real. “I’m only helping you with Benbrook because you blackmailed me into it. Don’t think that gives you leave to dabble in my personal business.”

“Like your
affaire
with Miss West?”

“I’m not having an
affaire
with Miss West! I’ve never even touched her before today! Stay out of my life, Sir Lee!”

“Which life? The solicitor-general’s or the viscount’s or the Sentinel’s?”

Steele scowled. “What are you talking about?”

“Your friends. The Cutlers. At Tipton’s Tavern they were quite free about showing off that fancy
club you fellows use. After a few pints of brew loosened their tongues, they were happy to explain how the iron-topped tipstaff is a far more reliable weapon than any pistol.” Sir Lee leaned back into the chair. “Your secret won’t be safe for long if people put together the masked man who’s been meting out his own brand of justice about town with the man raised by the Cutlers.”

Steele opened his hands in exasperation. “What am I to you? A puzzle to be properly fitted? A man to be set in his place? A scapegoat to be hung out to dry?”

“Until you reconcile who you are, you can never find peace.”

“What business is it of yours? What the blazes do you care if I’m at peace or not?”

Rubbing his chin, Sir Lee exhaled. “I suppose I can’t help it; when I see a problem I long to fix it.”

“I’m not a problem. I don’t have any problems besides trying to stop a killer. Which is why you’re here. And while we’re busy tossing out theories about who is behind this whole plot, you’re like a puppet master yanking on everyone’s strings, Sir Lee. How do I know you’re not behind it?”

“Because Patrick Devonshire is,” Sir Lee declared with a flourish.

“Patrick, the nephew? Benbrook’s brother’s son?”

“Yes.”

“He’s left India?”

“I assume that he’s in England to be able to place a price on Benbrook’s head.” Sir Lee scratched his craggy cheek. “Although I’ve yet to be able to connect him to the carriage accident that killed Seth and
Felix’s parents.” He looked up. “But he’s behind it all. I’m sure of it. If he kills Benbrook and then the boys, he inherits it all. It’s a simple case of greed.”

“But his father would inherit.”

“His father is dead. He died about the time this whole nasty business began. If Benbrook and the boys are eliminated, then everything would go to Patrick Devonshire.”

“How can you be so sure it’s Patrick Devonshire?”

“There was an attempt on Benbrook’s life yesterday. We caught the bugger trying to escape Dorset.”

Steele’s hands clenched. “An ‘attempt’…Is Benbrook all right?”

“He’s fine.”

“And did you catch Devonshire?”

“Nay. But we got his hired hand. Now we have a witness who links everything back to Patrick Devonshire. The problem is, the man seems unwilling to point any other fingers. I’d love to know who else is in Patrick’s employ. I’d bet ten pounds your former footman Claude would be in the mix.”

Steele’s hands clenched. “If I ever get my hands on that bugger…”

“Which, Devonshire or Claude?”

“Either will do, but both would be ideal.”

Exhaling, Sir Lee waved a hand. “My guess is that Patrick Devonshire is circulating the rumor about you being behind the murders to deflect any blame from centering on him. I’m sure his plan was that he be in India or parts abroad when word reached him of the deaths. Your activities as a Sentinel may also play into the mix if he knows of them.”

“He doesn’t,” Steele bit out.

“Does anyone?”

As he thought of the night he’d been unconscious in the barn, Steele’s gut clenched. “I don’t think so.”

“But you’re not sure.” It was a statement, not a question.

Steele rubbed his hands over his jaw, wondering if he dared ask. He took a chance. “Do you know anything about a widow involved with Lucifer Laverty?”

Sir Lee’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “No. Do you think she’s in league with Patrick Devonshire?”

“No.” Steel shook his head. “Not with Devonshire or the plot. I just…it’s an unrelated matter.”

Sir Lee’s gaze glistened with warning. “Lucifer Laverty is as nasty a bloke as they come. Are you sure you want me to dig in that quarter?”

Steele nodded. “Yes. It’s just…you asked if anyone might know about my nocturnal activities…”

“And she might?”

“Yes. But it’s more than that. She…I think she may be in trouble and I want to try to help her if I can.”

The old gent nodded. “I’ll look into it. I have some contacts within Lucifer Laverty’s organization.”

“How come I’m not surprised?”

“Just because they’re criminals does not mean that they’re not patriotic.” Sir Lee leaned forward, his green gaze filled with curiosity. “In your travels about London at night, have you learned anything about Lucifer Laverty that might be helpful?”

“Aside from astonishingly well-organized thievery, Lucifer Laverty’s favorite forms of commerce are favors and debt. I don’t envy anyone on the debtor’s side of the ledger where’s he’s concerned. The
man’s a viper.” Steele exhaled. “Did the man you caught in Dorset by any chance know Devonshire’s whereabouts?”

“Nay.”

“So our killer is still on the loose. And he may be in London.”

“Yes, and Benbrook will be arriving from Dorset shortly.”

Steele straightened. “He doesn’t trust me to protect the boys?”

“That’s not the issue at all. The attempt on his life really scared him.” Sir Lee shifted in his chair. “I think he’s feeling…mortal, and being with the boys will be a comfort to him. He misses them terribly.”

“Benbrook in London means everyone who is a target will be in one city. I don’t like it.” Stepping over to the window, Steele peered down at the garden. It was empty. Where were the boys and Miss West?

Steele walked over to the entry door and yanked it open. “Dudley!”

The butler scrambled from down the hall. “Yes, my lord?”

“I want you to make sure the boys are with two footmen at all times, even while inside.”

“Yes, Your Lordship.”

“And I want every room in the house checked. Every floor, every room, closets, the whole house.”

“Again, my lord?”

“It’s been two days. Have it done.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Steele gnawed on his lip, tempted to know where Miss West might be. So tempted…“By the by, where are the boys?”

“At the park, my lord.”

Alarm sliced through him. “The park? When did they go? Who went with them?”

“Miss West and two footmen, Zachariah and Foster, accompanied the boys, my lord.” At the look on Steele’s face, Dudley asked, “Should they not have gone?”

“No. No. They did what they were supposed to, they told you and were well accompanied.” Still, a panicky feeling ate at his guts. He wanted the boys close, Miss West even nearer. He knew that it was completely irrational, but he had the sudden urge to lock them in the house and hold them dear. At least until Patrick Devonshire was no longer a threat. “Which park? The one across the street?”

“No, my lord. Coleridge Square Park is where they went.”

Steele knew he was going before the words were out of his mouth. “I’ll join them.”

“I’ll get your hat and gloves, my lord.” Bowing, the butler stepped from the room.

Sir Lee’s gaze was knowing. “You care for those boys.”

“Of course I do.”

“They’re not just Benbrook’s brood?”

Steele shifted his shoulders, feeling the slight ache from where the rock had struck him. “They’re…my family. If anything happens to those boys, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Placing his hat on his head, Sir Lee nodded. “Have a care. I’m off to go see about a viper named Lucifer Laverty.”