CHAPTER NINE
Despite the steady rain, Edward forced his feet to carry him through the mud and grime of Charing Cross Road.
A most unpleasant experience, and one that he was not quite certain why he was enduring.
It couldn’t be for the lingering aroma of boiled eel and stale gin. Nor for the pleasure of being the target of every pickpocket, beggar, and prostitute in the neighborhood.
Perhaps part of the blame could be laid at the feet of young Joseph. Edward had, after all, made a promise to do all he could to locate the lad’s missing sweetheart. And he never gave his promises lightly.
But that did not explain why he had not simply given the task over to one of his numerous servants. Or why he had chosen to continue his search on a day fit only for waterfowl and lunatics.
Deftly avoiding the bucket of filth being tossed from an overhead window, Edward grimaced.
What was the point in attempting to fool himself? He was wandering through the wretched streets because he could not bear to spend another futile day attempting to thrust his way into Lady Bianca’s presence.
Over the past week he had ridden miles through Hyde Park, attended every tedious social event for which he had received an invitation, and even braved the ducal townhouse only to be turned away.
Again.
And all for nothing.
Bianca was nowhere to be found. At least, nowhere that he was in the position to find her.
It was bloody frustrating.
And more than a tad worrisome.
Halting as the door to a tailor shop was thrust open, Edward’s broodings were interrupted by the glimpse of bright red curls and a round, freckled face.
He was so stunned at the sudden appearance of the very woman he was seeking that he did not so much as blink as she tossed the bucket of mop water directly upon his boots.
“Sally?” he muttered. “Good God, I cannot believe I have found you.”
Lifting her head, the young maid gave a sudden squeak and dropped the heavy bucket. Thankfully not upon his toes.
“Sir.” She swallowed heavily before abruptly performing an awkward curtsy. “I mean . . . my lord.”
He waved an impatient hand. “Bah, do not start with that nonsense. Your father was my groom since I was in the cradle and has taken a willow switch to my backside more than once. I believe he would still be using that switch if he had not taken his pension.”
Appearing pale and more than a bit distressed, Sally clutched at the apron that covered her threadbare gown.
“Whatever are you doing here?”
“Actually that was the question I was about to pose to you. We have all been very concerned for you, my dear.”
“I left a note for Pa.”
“A note that said nothing more than you were off to London and that you would write with your directions once you had settled,” he pointed out gently, half afraid she might suddenly disappear into the gathering fog.
She bit her lip as a flush crawled beneath her pale skin. “Aye, well . . . I’ve been terrible busy.”
Edward’s gaze briefly took in her chapped and calloused hands before turning toward the open door, where he could see a recently mopped floor.
“So I see.”
Her flush deepened. “’Tis good, honest work.”
“Of course it is,” he soothed, “but I do not believe you came to London to scrub floors, did you, Sally?”
There was a long pause as she struggled between pride and misery, and then without warning her eyes filled with tears.
“Nay. I thought I was to be an actress. Freddie promised that he would make me famous through all of England. It was all a clanker, of course. Once he got what he was wanting . . .” She sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “He was nothing more than a rotter.”
Although Edward had never encountered the minor nobleman who had briefly visited the village near his estate, he had no difficulty in accepting that he was indeed a rotter.
Only the worse sort of cad would lure a naïve child from her home for the sole purpose of debauchery.
And if he ever tracked down the mysterious Freddie, he intended to lodge a lead ball in his arse. At close range.
“Once you discovered the truth of this Freddie, why did you not come home, my dear?”
A tear slid through the dust that coated her round countenance. “How can I? I have shamed myself.”
“You were led astray by a cad,” he corrected.
“Nay, I am ruined. ’Tis best that all believe me to be dead.”
Edward reached out to grasp her work-roughened hand. “Nonsense. We all make mistakes and errors in judgment.” His lips twisted as he recalled his ridiculous pursuit of the beautiful Bianca. “Some of us more than others. But whatever has happened, your father, and more particularly Joseph, are desperate to have you home.”
She bit her lip, clearly wishing to believe his words of comfort and yet afraid to hope.
“How can they ever forgive me?”
“Quite easily.” He gave her fingers a slight squeeze. “They love you.”
Another tear slid down her face. And another. Then without warning she had tossed herself against his chest to sob in earnest.
“I’ve been such a fool.”
Edward patted her back as he hastily flagged down a passing hack. He possessed blessed little experience in comforting distraught young maids. The sooner he could have Sally in the care of his housekeeper, the better.
“You have punished yourself long enough, Sally. It is time to return to your family.”
“I would like that, but . . .” She stepped back to regard him with a troubled frown.
“What is it?”
She glanced toward the open door to the tailor shop. “Mr. Caster was kind enough to take me in when no one else would. I cannot just abandon him.”
“Allow me to deal with Mr. Caster. I will ensure he is well-compensated for his kindness,” he assured her as he led her to the waiting carriage and helped her to settle within the shadowed interior.
“You are . . . so very good, my lord.”
Dismissing her gratitude with a wave of his hand, Edward pulled out a gilt-edged card and scribbled instructions upon the back of it.
“Here.” He thrust the card into her fingers. “Take this with you and give it to my butler. He will ensure you are given a warm meal, and then one of my servents will see that you are safely returned to your father.”
“Thank you, sir,” she breathed. “Thank you.”
“Your gratitude belongs to Joseph. He refused to give up hope that you would someday return to him,” he said firmly.
The tears once again threatened. “I don’t deserve him.”
“I think that is a decision that should be left to him, my dear. Take care and be happy.”
Stepping back, he closed the door and called out the address to the waiting driver. Then, as the hack rattled away, he turned to enter the shop.
Much to his surprise, it took longer than he had expected to satisfy the suspicious tailor that his intentions toward Sally were honorable. Somehow, the man had gotten it into his thick head that Edward was some sort of nefarious ruffian, and it was only with the promise that he would be allowed to visit Sally and ensure she was unharmed that Edward could leave the shop without having the magistrates called to haul him to Newgate.
With a shake of his head that anyone could think him a scurrilous cad, Edward returned to the damp streets and trudged his way toward the nearby almshouse. He had requested to review the quarterly accounts before offering his contribution, and now seemed as good a time as any to complete the rather tedious task.
Then it was back to his townhouse for a hot bath and another twelve rounds with his valet as he was groomed and wrangled into his evening wear for another tedious evening of what passed for entertainment in London.
Ah . . . the life of a dandy.
It was enough to make a sane man ram his head into the nearest wall.
Wallowing in his fine sense of self-pity, Edward paid no heed to the glossy black carriage directly halted before the almshouse. Not until a slender, painfully familiar female swept from the grimy building toward the waiting groom.
A terrifying jolt of happiness shot through him as he caught sight of the perfect ivory countenance and delectable curves.
Hell’s teeth. Every part of his being longed to rush forward and sweep her into his arms. To carry her to his house and lock her away so that she could never again avoid him.
Despite claims that he was little better than a barbarian, Edward had never considered himself one.
Not until this moment.
With an effort, he squashed his primal urge to swoop and conquer and instead stepped directly into her path and performed a rigidly polite bow.
“Lady Bianca, what a delightful surprise.”
Forced to halt or ram directly into his large form, the raven-haired beauty regarded him with a sudden flush.
“Oh . . . Edw . . . Lord Harrington.”
His rare temper stirred and then flamed at her obvious discomfiture. Damn it all, only days ago this woman had writhed with pleasure in his arms. He still sported the bruises from where she had clutched at his arms and found her release.
Why the devil was she suddenly treating him as if he were something that should be swept into the gutter?
For once Edward did not ponder and consider before charging into action. Perhaps not so surprising. He was damp, chilled, and frustrated beyond all measure.
And this woman standing before him was entirely to blame.
With the speed that always caught others off guard, he reached out to grasp her arm and firmly pulled her toward the open carriage door.
“A word, Lady Bianca, if you do not mind.”
“What . . .”
Edward had the contrary minx plucked from the street and into the carriage before she could flay him with the sharp edge of her tongue. He even managed to slam shut the door before the outraged groom could lift a hand to help his mistress.
He was not quite swift enough, however, to avoid her unexpected kick to his knee as he settled in the seat opposite her.
“Ow.” He glared at her as he tossed aside his dripping hat and pulled off his gloves. “If you must kick at me, you could choose a less painful location.”
The dark eyes snapped with irritation. “I possess three brothers, Lord Harrington. You are fortunate I chose your knee at all.”
Against his will he felt his lips twitch. “Vixen.”
She gave a sniff as she settled back in the leather. “Do you mind telling me why you have thought fit to accost me on the street?”
“Because it was preferable to storming your father’s fortress and no doubt ending up in some ducal dungeon,” he retorted dryly.
A revealing heat touched her cheeks. “That is absurd.”
“Is it?”
She shifted uneasily. “What are you doing here?”
It did not take a genius to realize she desired to avoid a confession of her reasons for treating him as if he carried the plague. Dammit all. He wanted to shake the truth out of her.
Of course, he would never do such a thing.
Gritting his teeth, Edward grudgingly accepted that for now patience was the better part of virtue.
Or some such nonsense.
“Searching for Joseph’s young sweetheart.”
“Did you find her?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. She was mopping the floor of a tailor’s shop when I happened to stumble across her.”
“Good heavens.” She blinked in surprise. “Where is she now?”
He gave a lift of his shoulder. “Hopefully in the hands of my housekeeper, who will fuss over her until she can be returned to her home.”
A portion of her wariness faded as a smile curved her lips. “But that is wonderful.”
His breath caught in his throat at her smile. God, she was so beautiful.
“Yes, it is. Sally is young and inclined to be impulsive, but she will make Joseph a good wife.” He folded his arms over his chest, regarding her with a brooding expression. “Now tell me what brings you to such a neighborhood.”
She smoothed the pale green skirts, unaware of how the damp muslin was clinging to her body. Edward, on the other hand, was achingly conscious of every delectable curve.
“I did say that I would attempt to discover a means of helping these people,” she muttered.
Edward gave a startled lift of his brows. “So you did. And what means have you decided upon?”
Her chin tilted, almost as if she expected him to deride her efforts.
“My father has been grousing that his land is lying fallow after so many tenants left to fight in the war. At the same moment there are endless soldiers filling the almshouses without employment. It occurred to me that two problems were actually one solution, so I requested my father’s secretary to come here and begin interviewing those who might be suitable.”
Barely aware he was moving, Edward had shifted to sit next to the astonishing woman, his hands cupping her face.
“I did say you could alter the world if you desired,” he said softly.
Her eyes darkened with pleasure at his obvious admiration. “I am hardly altering the world.”
“Every revolution has a beginning.”
Just for a moment, their gazes locked and held. Then, as if realizing the sheer intimacy of the shadowed carriage, she was abruptly pulling away from his touch.
“I should be returning home. My father will be expecting me for tea.”
His early irritation returned. Once again she was anxious to flee his company.
And without one damnable explanation.
“’Tis early yet.”
“Yes, but . . .”
He reached out to grasp her hands before she could elude him.
“Bianca, why have you been avoiding me?”
“Avoiding you?” She gave a futile tug of her fingers. “Why would you think such a thing?”
“Please do not play at being stupid, muirnin, it does not suit you,” he growled.
Her eyes flashed with silent warning. “If you intend on being insulting, my lord, you can blasted well return to the rain.”
He ignored her bristling. His patience was at an end. He wanted an answer. And he wanted it now.
“Tell me. Have I offended you? Frightened you? Disgusted you?”
She gave a small gasp at his blunt questions. “No, of course not.”
“There is no ‘of course’ about it. Something has driven you away. Am I not at least deserving of an explanation?”
“Edward, please.”
“Please what?” he demanded. “Pretend I am a proper gentleman and allow you to ignore and elude me without complaint? I am sorry, muirnin, but I cannot. I am not skilled to pretend an indifference I don’t feel. Not with you.”
Bending downward, he captured her lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. Blast it all, he had to know. He had to know that the memory of her eager response was not just a dream. That she truly had desired his touch.
There was a horrid moment when she remained motionless beneath his demanding kiss and his heart nearly failed. Then, with a choked sound deep in her throat, Bianca was arching forward and clutching at the lapels of his coat.
Sharp relief raced through him as he parted her lips with his tongue and delved into the welcome heat of her mouth. Oh . . . yes. She could deny anything but this. This was too powerful. Too potent.
This could not be denied.
Gathering her in his arms, he savored her warmth that surrounded him. He did not realize how cold he had been until her softness fit against him with sweet perfection. Now he felt as if he were drowning in her heat.
All sorts of things began to stir as he swept kisses over her upturned face. He forgot the fact that they were seated in a carriage. And that her small army of servants stood just beyond the closed curtains. He even forgot the reason he had hauled Bianca into the carriage in the first place.
Nothing mattered but the intoxicating feel of this woman in his arms.
“Bianca . . .”
Allowing his hands to trail down the curve of her back, he gently nuzzled the satin skin of her throat. Beneath his lips he could feel the thunder of her pulse, taste her honeysuckle. A shudder shook his body.
The rasp of her breath echoed through the carriage, but just as Edward was considering the best means of maneuvering her onto his lap, she suddenly stiffened and pressed her hands against his chest.
“No . . . we should not be doing this,” she rasped.
“Why?” His brows snapped together. “Because I’m the Peasant Earl? Are you embarrassed to have others speak our names in the same breath?”
Her eyes widened as if in shock. “That is not it at all.”
“Then what?”
She bit her lip as her lashes swept downward. At her side, Edward felt his muscles clench as if expecting a blow.
“It is not without reason that I have been called the Ice Princess,” she at last confessed. “Although I have never intentionally intended to wound another, I have been accused of toying with the affection of my suitors. Some even claimed that I had led them to believe I would return their affection only to break their heart. I would not . . . I would not desire to hurt you.”
It was not at all what Edward had been expecting, and he discovered himself battling a tangle of reactions.
On one hand, he couldn’t deny a sense of relief that she was not so shallow as to fear being seen in his company. On the other hand, he could not ignore the less-than-subtle dismissal.
“Are you warning me that you could never learn to care for me?” he husked.
She caught her breath at his direct demand. “I do not yet know.”
“Are you in love with another?”
His heart turned to ice as her gaze fell and she plucked at the silver locket hung about her neck. Oh no. Not that. He could bear anything but the thought that her affection already belonged to another.
That was something no man could battle.
“I . . . am pledged to no man,” she at last conceded. “But that does not mean . . .”
The ice melted beneath a surge of relief. Thank God. Reaching out, he covered her chilled hands with his own.
“Bianca, do you recall telling me that your opinions and decisions are your own, and that I was not to take that away from you?”
Her gaze abruptly lifted. “Of course.”
“Then surely I should be allowed to claim the same privilege,” he demanded. “Unless you intend to shun me, why should I not choose to court you?”
She studied him for a long moment. “Is that what you are doing? Courting me?”
He arched a brow at her ridiculous question. “Well, you did claim we were to be wed. I think it best we spend at least some time in a traditional courtship before traveling down the aisle.” His gaze briefly dipped to her lips, still reddened from his kisses. “Besides, you will have to make an honest man of me someday.”
Her wariness did not ease. “Edward?”
With a rueful chuckle he leaned downward, resting his forehead against her own.
“How do I make it more obvious, muirnin? I will admit my courtship skills are sadly lacking, but I have chased you from one end of London to another. Not to mention done everything short of stealing your maidenhead. The only thing left is to kidnap you and hold you hostage.”
“You wish to wed me?”
He swept his lips over her temple before pulling back to regard her with a somber expression.
“For the moment I only wish to know you better,” he murmured. “I already know that I desire you and that I enjoy your company. I would like very much to know if it could become something more. Surely that is not so terribly nefarious?”
She slowly shook her head. “No.”
“So you will no longer spend your days attempting to avoid me?”
An indefinable emotion flickered through the dark eyes. “Would it make any difference if I did attempt to avoid you? You seem to possess a rare talent for appearing wherever I might be.”
Edward stiffened. Granted he had ridden through the park and attended a handful of parties in the hope of catching a glimpse of her. But dammit all, she made him sound like he stalked her through the streets like a damnable looby.
“If you wish to rid yourself of my presence, Lady Bianca, you need only say the word. I can assure you that I would never inflict myself upon a lady who has no desire for my company.”
Annoyingly, a hint of humor touched her beautiful features at his stiff words.
Much less annoyingly, her hand lifted to gently stroke his cheek.
“I have no wish to rid myself of your presence, Edward,” she said softly. “I find that I have missed your companionship.”
She had missed him?
Edward’s breath was snatched from his lungs as he helplessly gazed into the flashing black eyes.
Oh God. He was in bad shape.
Very, very bad shape.
But for the moment, he didn’t give a damn.
Not so long as she was smiling at him as if there were no other gentleman in the world for her.