CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE TRAIN FINALLY DREW near to the Rugby station and slowed. As the train rolled to a stop, Henry jumped out of her seat and went to the door to be the first off. Through the window she watched a young boy on the platform wave heartily as the first carriages passed the bench where he was sitting with an older woman.
The last two hours of riding had Henry turning story ideas over in her head, but she was always stymied by the conclusion that was yet to unfold. She could start with a boastful remark of pursuing the earl when no one else realized he was fleeing. Or she could paint her adventure as assisting the Inspector.
But none of those angles would work if the earl wasn’t on the train.
His mistress and Jane Redding’s baby were, but Henry hadn’t seen the earl. She’d scoured all the faces in her second class carriage, but the earl wasn’t among them.
Also there was the little matter of not having purchased a ticket. The door opened and the guard reached out his hand for her ticket. She jumped past him, and hurried toward the first class compartment.
“Miss,” he called after her. “Your ticket.”
“I’ll be right back,” she called back to him. Her heart beat out a rapid tattoo. Several men disembarked, but she scanned each one and rejected them. Miss Hall leaned out of her compartment. The waving boy who should have been abed at this hour darted between exiting passengers running down the platform toward the first class carriages. He cried out, “Mama!”
Miss Hall stepped from the first class carriage and she turned in Henry’s direction and started forward quickly. For a second, she halted, staring at the woman—who had heretofore seemed rather unremarkable for all she’d become the mistress of the Evil Earl. But Miss Hall seemed more animated than she had before. Her cheeks were glowing and her eyes were sparkling. Her hair was pulled back in far too simple a style, but the lamp light danced over it, picking up golden lights in her otherwise unremarkable light brown hair. She looked...pretty.
The child ran faster and Miss Hall stretched out her arms and bent to pick him up. Their heads came together and their hair was the same golden brown hue. The reunion was obviously heartfelt, the hugs tight.
Miss Hall was the mother of the boy?
Henry had to shake her head to clear it. Miss Hall must have been quite young when she had him and obviously not married.
Miss Hall’s gaze lit on her. She turned her body as if to protect her child.
Her caution was unwarranted. Henry would never hurt a child.
Was being reunited with her boy the persuasion Coleraine had used on Miss Hall? For a mother separated from her child, it would be a powerful inducement. A chill ran down Henry’s spine. Jane Redding had been a mother, but that hadn’t saved her.
Miss Hall set her son down. Henry had let several precious seconds pass staring at Miss Hall and her son instead of watching for Coleraine. She ran past the touching family reunion to the first class compartment, certain she would find the earl descending from it or sitting inside.
The guard called out.
Her shoulders rose toward her ears, but she picked up her pace, determined to catch the earl. She glanced back. Miss Hall wasn’t following her or trying to stop her. Facing the far end of the platform, she stood with her hand on her son’s shoulder.
That gave Henry pause. She reached the door of the first class carriage and peered inside.
It was empty except for a basket and valise on the seat.
That didn’t make sense. Henry’s mind refused to accept that Coleraine wasn’t inside. Had she missed him getting off the train?
She scanned the crowd and caught Miss Hall communicating via a look with someone. Following Miss Hall’s gaze, Henry tried to see if she was signaling Coleraine.
Instead it was the attendant who’d pulled her away from the first class carriage in London.
Damn.
“What are you doing?” demanded the attendant.
The guard from the second class carriage came up behind him. “She didn’t show me her ticket.”
“Have you a ticket, ma’am?” said the attendant.
“I didn’t have time to buy one, but I’m perfectly willing—”
They grabbed her, one on either arm.
“—to pay my way.” Her heart fluttered. Oh dear heavens, was she to be arrested? Did she even have enough coin in her pocket to pay for the ticket to just this first stop in Rugby? She was stranded miles from home with no one handy who could help her. When she left for work this morning, she hadn’t left with anything more than a few coins for cab fares and food.
Neither of the railroad employees acknowledged her intent to pay.
“Please, can’t we straighten this out? I didn’t want to miss the train. I have every intention of paying.”
They hauled her into the station. She looked back to Miss Hall, but Lord Coleraine’s mistress just flattened her lips as she greeted an older woman who had come up to join her and her son.
What was she going to do if they arrested her for trying to steal a ride? And where the hell had Coleraine gone? Had he missed the train? Or had he never intended to be on it?
“The fine for not buying a ticket is forty shillings,” said the attendant. “Plus the fare.”
She gulped. She certainly didn’t have enough money on her to pay for her ticket and pay the fine.
*~*~*
Barnabas closed his scratchy eyes and propped up a pillar in the train station. It was near three in the morning, and the Great Hall seemed cavernous with an emptiness that was rare for the usually bustling transportation hub. Here he was again worrying more about Henry than his case. He didn’t know why he bothered. He shouldn’t, but the idea of her returning home in the middle of the night, all alone, while a killer was loose in her neighborhood made his stomach knot.
The hiss and clack of an arriving train had him straightening, but he fought his instincts to collect her. She’d have to walk past him, so he might as well wait. The last thing he needed was to look like he was chasing after her—even if he was. No matter how he tried to dismiss her, thoughts of her were too ready to rise to the forefront of his mind.
A score of passengers entered the Great Hall, mostly businessmen, one family with two children dragging their feet and leaning against their parents as if they were the only thing keeping them upright, and behind them a short woman with a determined stride. Henry.
The tiredness that haunted him flitted away.
Flyaway wisps danced around her head, catching in the lamplight. Her narrowed eyes darted left and right. He imagined her brow was wrinkled under that swinging fringe of hair. If she had a smidgen of sense, she was worried about traveling through the city in the wee hours of the night. Honest working people were in their beds, leaving only those up to no good prowling the streets.
Just seeing her stirred his blood. His thoughts revolved around how to get her to come home with him, putting him squarely in the camp of those up to no good.
Not only should he not think that way about a woman he couldn’t envision a future with, she was a thoroughly dedicated reporter. He couldn’t see a marriage to her working so long as their professions were so diametrically opposed. He had to quit thinking about seducing her if he wasn’t willing to follow through with a proposal. Not that she showed any great yearning to share his bed again. She mostly seemed to want to pick his brain more than she wanted him as a suitor.
Just as she used him for information, he had to direct her reporting to keep her from blowing up his case. Somehow he had to convince her she’d been following Coleraine’s brother, not Coleraine. He pushed off the pillar.
If she published that she’d followed the earl, Barnabas would be in deep trouble with the commissioner. And he’d look like a fool. The number of people who thought him a fool was growing astronomically without her help. More and more he questioned his convictions and wondered if he was the one in the wrong. But he’d been in this position before where people preferred to believe a lie rather than the more painful and disturbing truth. It had cost him dearly even though he’d been right.
Her gaze jerked to his and then lowered to the marble floor. Her dimples pulled in her cheeks, but not because she was smiling. It was more of a grimace.
That was why he shouldn’t have bothered. Barnabas couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped him. He was probably the last person she wanted to see. She’d known from the beginning there wasn’t any future for them.
She pulled up in front of him. “Thank you for sending a cable to Rugby station.”
Surprise filtered through the muddle in his thoughts. He’d actually sent a cable to all the stops along the Irish mail train route, but that was well after midnight when her disappearance was starting to panic him. “You’re welcome.”
She looked up through her lashes at him as if she weren’t quite sure of his response.
If he’d been less tired he might have shaken her or given her a lecture about getting on a train alone without telling anyone where she was going. On the other hand, warmth washed through him. A truce between them was more welcome than another argument. It only then occurred to him that it was odd that she even knew of the cable. “Did someone tell you that I had inquired after you?”
“They had detained me for not having a ticket. I told them I was following Lord Coleraine at your behest, but they didn’t believe me.” Her chin thrust forward. “Not until your cable arrived.”
His stomach tightened, but he pretended he was unaffected by her revelation. Maybe her gratitude would help him to convince her to accept his version of events this evening. Or maybe, she’d be more willing to fall into his arms. Although, he might have been better served if she’d have been stuck in Rugby for a while. He placed his hand on her shoulder to steer her out of the station. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“I didn’t have enough coin on me to pay for my ticket and the fine.” Her chin tilted up. “I was afraid I wouldn’t have anything left for hiring a hack.”
“No need to hire a cab. I have a carriage waiting.”
Steering her through the hall, where the clack of her heels and the thud of his echoed, he kept his hand firmly between her shoulder blades. He should offer his arm, but he preferred keeping her close enough to feel her skirts brushing his legs, close enough he could feel the heat of her body, close enough he could catch the sweet womanly scent that was uniquely her.
Right, he was just a glutton for punishment, because he doubted he’d ever get what he wanted—and he wasn’t even sure why he wanted more with a woman he’d have to measure every word he uttered to her for newsworthiness. Except something about her stole the breath from his lungs.
“Why did you board the train?” he asked.
Henry swung around in front of him and stopped. “Did you know Miss Hall had a child?”
He nodded. “A son.”
“She told you?” Henry’s blue eyes searched his face.
“Not in so many words.” But it hadn’t been hard to figure out with her answers to their shared Pontoon game that rainy night the earl had let him in.
Barnabas planted his hands on Henry’s shoulders and guided her backwards so he could continue walking forward. His body responded as if he was about to pull her close for a kiss, which he shouldn’t be thinking about. Henry would never let go of her reporting, and he certainly didn’t need to be vulnerable to telling her more than he ought.
A frown on her face, she followed his lead, stepping back.
He slowed his pace. Probably the closest he’d ever get to waltzing with her, not that he’d ever had a yearning to dance with a woman before. “Keep walking. It’s late, and we can talk in the carriage.”
“The boy has his adult front teeth.” Henry stared into his eyes. Her eyes were sparkling deep pools he could drown in. The air sucked out of the atmosphere. He wanted to kiss her, but they were in public. “I wouldn’t have believed he was hers, except he called her ‘Mama.’ She must have been quite young when she had him.”
Just like her to douse him with cold water with her analysis of Miss Hall. He shook off his lustful thoughts.
“Will you print that?” As if Henry hadn’t already done enough damage to Miss Hall’s reputation, which was his fault, too, for all but handing Henry the story. Guilt tightened his jaw.
“If she goes missing,” Henry answered. “If the earl reunites a mother and child just to lure a victim under his spell, he is even more heinous than I thought.”
“She won’t go missing. He’s hired her to serve as his housekeeper for his seat in Ireland.” He held his breath, waiting for Henry to mention that he should be following Coleraine.
“Oh is that what they’re calling it now? Housekeeper, my foot.” Henry walked backwards at a steady clip, seemingly trusting him to guide her. If only she would allow him to guide her in other matters. “How would anyone ever know if she disappeared from some remote corner of Northern Ireland?”
“I’ll make regular inquiries after her. It isn’t as though she has any future here in London, now. Not after you destroyed her reputation.”
Henry’s eyes widened with an innocence that surprised him and at the same time made him want to shield her. “I didn’t destroy her reputation. She did that all on her own by choosing to become Coleraine’s mistress.”
“Just because she accepted his protection doesn’t mean she is his mistress.”
“Oh come on. Of course she is his mistress. He stayed at the house with her. He never does that.”
Coleraine’s staying may have been as much about protecting Miss Hall from the uncaught murderer as anything, not that Henry would believe that. “Regardless, you put in the newspaper that she was his mistress so she couldn’t get a decent job around here.”
“I suppose she thought she was too refined for manufacturing or labor where no one would have cared about her reputation.” Henry rolled her eyes. “Her family sheltered her after she had an illegitimate child. Surely they’d rather she wasn’t murdered and would let her come home and live locked in an attic or whatever you nobs do with disgraced relatives.”
Barnabas sighed. Of course to a woman who worked for a living, Miss Hall’s former situation probably looked cushy, even if it wasn’t. “I gather she would rather be a paid servant than an unpaid one. Door.”
Henry turned around as he opened the door for her. “Or, I suppose, be with her child.”
“I didn’t think you were following Miss Hall,” he observed mildly.
The darkness didn’t hide the consternation in Henry’s expression. “I wasn’t following her, but when I lost track of the earl, I went to the train station. If he was fleeing the city, it seemed logical. When I saw Miss Hall I figured he wouldn’t be far behind.”
“It was his brother Seamus you were following,” Barnabas said in a moment when she wasn’t watching him. If she had any talent for discerning a speaker’s veracity, he didn’t want her to be looking at him. Even though he was careful with his mannerisms, no one could completely hide the markers of deception.
“No it wasn’t. His brother had no reason to try and elude me.”
Barnabas turned his face so she wouldn’t see his wince. “Perhaps he doesn’t want anyone to know where he lives. Thus far he’s managed to keep his name out of the newspapers.”
“He’d have to suspect me. No one ever thinks I’m a reporter.”
He had to give her that. It had never even occurred to him when she had first fired questions at him. A too involved neighbor, a woman with a missing friend weighing on her mind—those possibilities had occurred to him, but not that she wrote for a newspaper. Maybe if he’d have known that sooner, he wouldn’t have started to think of her as a woman he could get involved with. Barnabas waved off his uncle’s coachman and reached to open the door to the carriage.
Henry stared at the discreet coat of arms engraved in the wood panel below the window. Her hand shot out and touched the crest, keeping him from opening the door.
Her chin dipped and her mouth tightened as her hand lowered. “I forget you’re a nob sometimes.”
“I’m a commoner just like you, Henry.” He opened the door and put his hand under her elbow to assist her. “My uncle may be an aristocrat, but I’m not and never will be. He only lets me borrow his carriage if I promise not to conduct police business in it.”
“So this is not police business?” she asked as she climbed into the plush velvet-lined interior. She sat down in the middle of the forward facing seat. He supposed that was a hint he was to take the opposite seat.
“Of course not.” Barnabas climbed in after her and shut the door. He pushed her skirts toward her and squeezed in beside her on the seat. For a second he relished the tightness of their confines, that she was so close. “This is personal business.”
She shifted away from him, but he planted his hand on her skirt keeping her from moving across the interior. She glanced at his hand.
He turned as if he’d missed her unspoken objection and rapped the ceiling with his other hand, giving the coachman the go ahead. This late at night when the fog was thick, the journey would be slow. Surely she would relax enough to let him pull her against him before they arrived.
He turned back to find her leaning away from him.
She gave him a skeptical glance. “Where are you taking me?”
“To your home.” He tilted his head, watching her in the dim light that filtered in from the carriage lamps. “Unless you’d rather I take you to mine, but I warn you, I have to relieve Sergeant Murdock from watching the earl’s house before sunrise.”
She looked out the far window, making it impossible for him to steal a kiss. Not that he was the least bit certain she’d let him. But she had allowed him every time he’d tried before. Of course it didn’t make sense that he’d kiss her when they couldn’t possibly end up together.
“You’ve never even asked me if Lord Coleraine was on the train,” she said.
His heart skipped a beat. The missing questions were always as telling as the ones that were asked. The suspect who didn’t ask what was going on or why he was being arrested. The man whose wife was missing but never asked if anyone had seen her. The murderer who didn’t ask if his victim was dead or alive, or how the victim had met his or her end. “I know he wasn’t on the train. I followed him to his house in Mayfair.” He fought the urge to cover his mouth. “Besides if you had seen him on the train, you would be unable to resist calling me all kinds of a fool.”
Or at least he hoped she would have. His muscles clenched as he waited for her to dispute him. Most likely Coleraine had been on the train, but he wouldn’t confirm it for her.
Her chin dropped and she stared at the opposite seat awhile.
The tiredness started to seep back in. With watching the earl overnight, he’d had little sleep in the past few days. He leaned his head against the padded side of the carriage and closed his eyes.
“I didn’t see him, but I don’t for one minute believe that he wasn’t planning to join Miss Hall. She kept looking around like she was watching for him.”
“Trust me, he’s safe and sound at his main London house. I have men watching the house. No one could enter or leave without my knowing.”
“I know it was the earl I followed. He was trying to hide his face from me.” Her eyes flattened. “I swear I don’t know if you are stupid or playing some deeper game.”
He shrugged off his irritation. He couldn’t answer without revealing too much to her or lying. “Why were you there at his other house, anyway?”
“I thought you ought to know that I managed to get one of his servants to have a drink with me and she told me that the earl and Mrs. Redding had a fight the night she disappeared.”
“I know that already. Coleraine told me as much himself.” When he reported Mrs. Redding missing. He touched Henry’s chin turning her face toward him. “But thank you for thinking to tell me.”
Her skin was soft and more than anything he wanted to tuck her in close, take her home to his house, his bed, and make love to her, then fall asleep with her in his arms. He missed holding her.
For a second her lips parted and her expression softened. Then it was gone as if it never happened. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned that he could have duped you into believing he’s at his house?”
“I know exactly who is staying at the earl’s house,” he said shortly. He was tired of talking about Coleraine with her. The conversations were fruitless at best and annoyingly frustrating.
She stared at him as if trying to understand if there was more to what he was saying. He could almost see her ticking through the various ways to interpret what he’d said. That’s what he got for trying to avoid a direct lie. She was smart enough to see through dissembling that fooled most people.
He leaned closer, lifting her chin as he did. Kissing her would prevent talking, which in turn would stop the impending argument before it gathered steam.
She sighed which he took as enough consent to brush his lips across hers.
“You shouldn’t—”
“Hush. We’re better off if we’re not talking.” His last word was whispered against her lips.
She made a sound of protest, but she didn’t push him away or turn her head.
He took his time with her. Slowly touching his lips to hers until her lips parted and her breathing quickened. Only then did he deepen the kiss.
In no time at all, his blood surged low in him and all he could think about was her. Her softness, her sharpness, her sweet taste. God, he loved kissing her, but he wanted so much more. He wanted to take her home and spend hours exploring the curves and valleys of her body, smooth his hands over her soft skin, and bury himself deep inside her to finish what they’d begun in Bedford. Of course to do that meant he was ready to make a much deeper commitment. They were completely unsuited. Or were they? He couldn’t imagine a lifetime of arguments with her, of having to keep his work from her. It wouldn’t work. Just kisses, he told himself firmly as his palms itched to cup her breasts and backside.
Her hands slid up his arms and landed on his shoulders, spiking sensation that burned in him. He pressed into her and fought the urge to lay her back against the seat. Like everything else with Henry, spooning with her brought its own frustration.
She scooted closer, her legs knocking into his.
He growled and swept his arm around her legs and lifted her into his lap. She twisted, pressing her breasts against his chest, and her hip rubbed his erection. Desire rocketed through him. Damn, he wanted her like he’d never wanted any other woman. Kissing wasn’t enough—would never be enough.
He ended their kiss and stared at her. Why her?
She blinked several times, as if startled by the change in their exchange. In the dim light he could see the rosy flush in her full cheeks. Her eyes glistened and her chest heaved as she drew in deep breaths. And he was lost.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispered in her ear, then touched his tongue to the delicate contours. He moved to her neck and nibbled at the frantic pulse there. He slid one palm up her outer thigh pulling her closer to his hardness. “I want you.”
“I thought...you said...we shouldn’t talk.”
“I’m not talking,” he murmured between nips at the soft skin of her neck, but his lips curled anyway. “I’m whispering sweet nothings in your ear.”
“Oh. Am I supposed to answer?”
“If you like.” He moved back to her mouth, engaging her in a way that prevented talking. Not that he minded her talking as long as it wasn’t about Coleraine, but to spare her from her adorable uncertainty he was more than willing to engage her delectable mouth.
Still his blood was pounding. Everything centered in where her hip pressed against his cock. Every touch, every breath, every kiss sent hot thrills there. He slid his hand up over the generous curve of her hip, to her nipped in waist, and up against her ribs. Encouraged that she made no protest, he smoothed his hand over her full breast.
She made a soft mew into his mouth.
He was on fire.
He broke the kiss to nuzzle behind her ear. “Your curves are amazing.”
The soft sound she made was like a protest. But then her lips were against his neck and her hips rocked. All the more inciting since she was on his lap. The fire in his blood burned hotter. He needed to redirect the coach to his home before he burst into flames.
“Henry, I need you,” he whispered between hot kisses. “Tonight.”
She opened her eyes and they were dark and bottomless.
“Come home with me,” he urged.
When she didn’t answer right away, he kissed her again. Deeply.
“Don’t worry. We’ll figure out how to make this work.” A warning bell rang in the deep recesses of his brain. If he took her home, he’d owe her a wedding ring. She wasn’t the kind of woman he could sleep with and then go on about his business. But he ignored the trill of alarm.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulders.
Let her say yes, became a plea and prayer in his head.
“Come home with me,” he repeated.
She planted her hands against his chest and pushed. “The baby.”
What? Was she worried about pregnancy? “I’ll take care of you.”
Somehow he stopped short of saying he’d marry her.
She shook her head. “Coleraine had to have the baby. Miss Hall wouldn’t have left the baby on the train without someone to watch him. No woman would.” Henry seemed to realize her position and slid off his lap and took the opposite seat. “He had to have the baby when the train stopped in Rugby.”
“You’re thinking of Coleraine, now?” Barnabas stared at the woman he’d thought was as engaged in their love-making as he was. Apparently not. Something stabbed him in the gut. Thank God he hadn’t told her he’d marry her. Although the desire to bed her didn’t dissipate.
She leaned across and grabbed his arm. “Don’t you see? Coleraine had to be on that train.”
His blood surged in spite of his disgust that she was thinking about the earl and not him.
“You have to go after him,” she urged.
Barnabas closed his eyes. He’d have to go after Coleraine soon enough. “He’s at his house in Mayfair.”
“At least promise me you’ll ask to speak with the man who is at Coleraine’s London house.” She shook his arm, and then stroked it. “Then you’ll see that I’m right.”
His lust burned bright, at the same time he couldn’t make love to a woman who kept thinking about another man.
Right now he just wanted her to stop talking so he said, “Fine. I’ll ask to speak to the earl.”
He winced. What the hell? If he asked to speak to the earl, the game would be up. He’d lose whatever extra time he’d gained to investigate by pretending he didn’t know the earl had gone to Ireland.
Damn her to hell. She made him insane with desire and then talked about Coleraine as if nothing was occurring. Barnabas yanked his arm out of her grasp. He had to get her away from him—the sooner the better. “We should be close to your boarding house.”
Or at least he hoped to high heaven they were close.