Chapter Ten
Lord Warwick’s world had been shaken to its very core. Everything he had thought he knew about women was wrong. At least when it came to Miss Waters.
First, the woman pointed him to a name on the list. A fact that he wouldn’t have seen if he’d studied the note for a hundred years. Then she openly talks about marriage and chastity as if she were discussing the weather. At no time in his entire life had he ever had such a discussion. It just wasn’t talked about. Not in such a frank and open way.
Was she giving him permission to pursue her? Did she want him to seduce her? The thought sent an animal need to his very center. He wanted her. He wanted her under him. He wanted to be buried inside of her.
Yet.
How did a man seduce an innocent who wanted to be seduced?
And after? What then?
Closing his eyes, he took in her lavender and rose scent, he felt the energy between them. Her body called to him. Something about the way she sat, those gorgeous eyes she kept hidden behind her spectacles. The way she looked at a problem. Everything about her pulled at him.
Yet.
She was an innocent, remember that, he told himself. She has no experience in such matters. How could he even think of taking her? She would be ruined. Nathanial and Bradford would never forgive him.
What if she never forgave him? Would she spend the rest of her life regretting him? The thought tore at his stomach. For some reason, it was important to him that she not regret anything about him. For the first time in his life, he worried about the morning after. At least with this woman.
He studied her as she read the list of names he had drafted. Her profile was feminine. A picture of female beauty. Her eyes darted over the page, fighting to find patterns or connections. Remember your honor, he told himself for the hundredth time.
Sighing to himself, he leaned forward, his shoulder brushed hers as they both studied the pages and lists. She turned, staring into his eyes. An energy passed between them. A force that pulled them together.
He started to lean forward, disregarding his doubts, disregarding his worries. He wanted this woman.
A soft knock and the click of the door opening forced its way into his awareness.
“Excuse me, Mum,” Molly said as she stepped into the room. An envelope in her hands. “This just arrived.”
He watched as Amanda swallowed and forced herself to turn to her maid. Swallowing again, she held out her hand and said, “Thank you, Molly.”
The maids face turned a lighter shade of white as she nodded towards Lord Warwick and said, “It’s for him. The boy said to give it to Lord Warwick.”
Amanda’s face froze for a second. The look of fear in her eyes tore at him.
“Thank you, Molly,” he said as he took the note from her. The maid curtsied and then scurried from the room. The door clicking shut behind her.
“How is this possible,” Amanda demanded. “I assure you, no one knows you are here. They can’t know.”
Warwick opened the note and read it quickly. His stomach dropped.
“My butler,” he told her. “I must go.”
Her brow furrowed. “Your butler. But how?”
He smiled weakly at her. “I told him. In my note to my mother.”
“Your mother knows you are living under this roof?”
The look of shock and shame that flashed across her face made him wince. “No. No. My mother knows nothing. … The note I sent her. Peters, my butler reads her mail to her. She refuses to admit that her eyesight is failing.”
Amanda nodded, she had probably noticed it on the several times the two women had come into contact.
“Anyway, knowing that, I made sure to include information in the note that only Peters would understand. Just in case he needed to reach me.” Waving the note Molly had delivered, he continued. “Which it seems he does.”
Amanda continued to frown as she tried to understand, then her face became concerned.
“You can’t leave. You can barely walk.”
“Never the less, it seems I must.”
Her eyes held him, mixed with concern and some hidden thought. He smiled back at her and shrugged. “Just think, you will finally be rid of me and can get on with your life.”
She continued to stare at him then slowly shook her head. Turning, she glanced down at the papers they had been working on and frowned. “It is over, isn’t it.” She said with a sad whisper. Biting her lip, she looked back at him, “I don’t want you to go.”
A simple statement that said so much. His heart jumped. He had never wanted a woman so much. Had never felt such an overwhelming sense of connection. Never needed someone as he needed this woman right then.
The surge of desire filled him. Yet, at the same time, a sense of protectiveness filled him. Counterbalancing the desire. No, he couldn’t. He was walking out of this woman’s life. Duty called. Honor demanded he leave her untouched.
“Amanda,” he said softly, all the while regretting to the bottom of his heart what he was about to say. “Amanda,” he repeated as he reached out and took her hand.
She looked up at him, fear in her eyes.
“It is for the best,”
“Why?” she demanded. “Why couldn’t you chase your spies from here. I could help.” The look of desperation pulled at him.
He sighed heavily. “Amanda, it is for the best, I have been delaying it longer than I should have. This attraction between us cannot be denied. If I stay we both know what will happen.”
She held his stare for a long moment then said, “Would that be so terrible?”
He smiled softly and slowly shook his head. “No, it would be wonderful. That is what worries me. I might fall into those gorgeous eyes of yours and never come out. You must understand. A man could become enamored of you very easily, Miss Amanda.”
“Again, would that be so terrible?”
He laughed. “No, it wouldn’t but I am not the man for you, Amanda. And this is not the time. I have a job to do. A job that very well might find me dead in some alley. You deserve so much more.”
She pulled her hand from his and turned away, but not before he saw the look in her eyes that said she wanted him, not some other imaginary man. Him, John.
“I will send Molly to get a coach,” she said still without looking at him as she hurried out of the room.
His heart hitched as the door closed behind her. It is for the best, he told himself, over and over. Yes, it would have been glorious. But what he had told her was true, he could easily find himself in love with the woman. A risk he could not afford to take at the moment.
Looking down at the note, his insides clenched. He trusted his butler with his life, on more than one occasion in fact. Peters would never have reached out to him. Never risked his exposure, unless it was critical.
He turned and examined the room. The shaving blade, her father’s blade rested on the dresser. Reaching into his pocket he ran a finger over the ivory penknife. No, there was nothing to take. Sighing, he folded the papers and Amanda’s copy of Lord Hicks’s ledger. The clothes he had arrived in were long gone. All he had was the clothes Molly had obtained for him.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
“Excuse me, M’lord,” Molly said as she stuck her head around the corner. “The coach is here.”
He smiled at her and said, “Thank you.” There was no longer any need for the maid to call him John.
The young maid continued to hold the same position as she obviously tried to gather her courage to say something. Feeling sorry for her, Warwick said, “Thank you for everything you have done for me, Molly. And I have done as you requested. I am leaving Miss Waters unharmed.”
She scoffed and shook her head. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that your Lordship.” Having said what she came to say, she turned and closed the door.
Warwick sighed, it had never been his intention to harm Amanda. That was the last thing he wanted. In fact, it was that driving force that had held him back all of these days and oh so long nights.
Taking up his cane, he leaned on it heavily as he made his way out of the room and down the stairs. On reaching the bottom of the long staircase, he found Amanda standing there, tying her bonnet under that pretty chin of hers.
“What are you doing?” he asked with a frown.
She looked back at him as if he had grown a second head. “I am going with you, of course,” she said as she drew on her gloves.
“What if someone sees us leaving together? Have you thought of that? Your reputation would be ruined?”
He could have sworn she actually thought he had lost what little sense he had left. “You can’t honestly believe I would let you travel unassisted,” she continued. “No, I won’t be able to relax my responsibilities until I see you safely in your staff’s care. London is not exactly safe, after all. Especially for someone in your condition.
“You are dressed as a workman,” She continued. “We are entering a coach I have hired. People will think you are assisting me with a project. Perhaps taking me to your workshop to retrieve an item I have commissioned.”
He sighed heavily. The woman never failed to amaze him. She was going to protect him from the trials and tribulations of the city no matter what. Sighing again, he nodded. There was no use fighting it. Besides, the thought of leaving her was not pleasant, better to prolong the goodbye.
Molly scurried to open the door. Looked outside, both left and right, then stepped back and nodded. Amanda preceded him out, making sure they were not being observed. As he passed Molly, the young maid gently took his arm and said, “You be careful M’Lord.”
His heart hitched a little. “Of course Molly,” he said. “I won’t let myself get shot again.”
She frowned for a moment. “It wasn’t you I was worried about.”
He laughed and thanked her again. When he reached the coach, he had to hand his cane to Amana and use both hands to pull himself up into the coach. Sweat broke out on his forehead at the effort.
What a weakling, he thought to himself as he settled back and tried to catch his breath. Amanda gave his address to the coachman and joined him.
She turned to examine him and slowly shook her head, her eyes flashing him an angry scowl. “You are as white as a fresh snowfield. This is ridiculous. What is worse, it is stupid. Not something I would have associated with you.”
His insides clenched at the thought of this woman being disappointed in him. But it couldn’t be helped. They rode on in silence. The swaying coach sending shafts of pain to both his shoulder and hip. Closing his eyes to fight the pain only made his stomach churn with distress.
Just get there, he thought to himself over and over. Just get home. He would deal with the Peters’ problem then collapse into his own bed.
As the coach turned and twisted its way through London, Amanda kept glancing at him from under her brow and sighing heavily. A look that reminded him of an angry governess disappointed in his performance.
“How can you expect me to pretend this never happened. That you never collapsed on my floor. How am I supposed to ignore the fact that men and women are plotting against my country?”
He sighed heavily. “Amanda, you don’t understand. This is dangerous …”
“Oh really?” she interrupted. “You mean someone might get killed? Why is it acceptable for you to risk everything, but I am not allowed? I am to simply sit in the corner and mind my own business. Yet, when you get hurt, I am expected to drop everything and help you recover. Only to step back once again. It isn’t fair. In fact, it is very maddening.”
He grimaced as he saw it from her perspective. Yet, how could he allow her to risk herself for him?
As if reading his mind she said, “I wouldn’t be risking myself for you, but for my King and country.”
He sighed again, the woman had an answer for everything. Luckily, the coach pulled to a stop in front of his home.
Giving her a weak smile, He made his way out to the sidewalk then turned to watch her descend unassisted. Once again his sense of honor felt attacked. He couldn’t use his weak arm to help her while relying on the cane to stop him from falling on his face.
Amanda had finished descending and was adjusting her dress when a voice from behind him sent a cold chill down his back.