.
Thomas didn't really calm down until Georgiana appeared in the study, a silk wrap over her nightdress.
"The poor thing must have been exhausted. She fell asleep as soon as she laid down on the guest bed, before I could even leave. Thomas, what's going on? What are you doing with a Carrow?"
"She's less Carrow than some. And you can't look at her and not see that she needs help."
Georgiana tilted her head to one side, and Thomas didn't meet her eyes. His sister had always seen too much for his liking, and he knew he was behaving strangely.
"You are many things, Thomas, some bad, but many good. I would not have said that being helpful was one of your virtues."
"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf. Maybe Blythe is rubbing off on me."
He wondered if Georgiana believed him. His sister was known for her beauty and her cutting tongue, but no one seemed to understand that she had a mind like a steel trap behind her bright blue eyes.
"All right, Thomas. But I'm just going to remind you that I have placed Blythe in the room next to my own. If you get it in your head to come bothering her, I will not hesitate to raise the hue and cry."
"Now who's being helpful?"
"It's very easy to want to protect Blythe, isn't it? I suppose I can't blame you. Good night, Thomas."
It took Thomas several hours before he finally went to bed. He hated the idea of Blythe being afraid, and having her under his roof, safe with himself and his formidable sister to keep watch, made him feel much better. The idea of a stranger coming into her room made his stomach turn over with fear, and underneath it all was a growing protectiveness for the girl he had met just a few short weeks ago.
Seeing her at the Gorsing crush was like a draught of cold water after a long dry summer day. He hadn't known how much he'd wanted to see her again after their escapade in Seven Dials. However, there was really no way to write to a woman to see if she wanted someone else on her adventures. He would have come up with something eventually, but then this had happened.
Thomas passed a fleeting thought to Georgiana's mild threat, that she would know if he tried to sneak into Blythe's room. Sneaking was one thing, but what if he was invited? Somehow, in the short time since they had seen each other last, he'd forgotten how sweet her mouth looked and how wonderful she felt in his arms.
The next morning, Thomas was startled at breakfast by Blythe, dressed again in gray and wearing a rather shy look on her face. She paused in the entrance to the breakfast nook that the family used when there were no guests in attendance.
He smiled at her. "Come in. If I know anything about Georgiana, she'll be abed until afternoon. No reason for us to deny ourselves, and there's plenty to share."
Blythe came to take a seat next to him. Thomas felt a strange sort of contentment fall over him at having her so very close.
"The maid sent me this way when I was up. Thomas, I have to thank you and your sister for last night—"
"Think nothing of it. You looked terrified out of your wits."
Blythe blushed a little, not looking up until Thomas buttered a bit of toast for her and set it on her plate. She looked at the toast as if it were the strangest thing she had ever seen.
Thomas chuckled. "It's just breakfast, Blythe. It's not going to hurt you."
For a moment, Blythe looked like she was going to cry. "I'm such a fool!"
"Where's that coming from? You went through something frightening. It's all right if you're feeling a little unbalanced. Would an egg be more comforting than the toast?"
She laughed a little at his words and nibbled on the toast. To Thomas, it looked as if she were discarding one thing she wanted to say after another.
When Thomas spoke, his voice was as gentle as he knew how to make it. "You don't have to hide anything from me. I already know about your career as the avenger of London's downtrodden."
She rewarded him with a brief smile. It felt to Thomas as if the sun had come out.
"I'm a fool because I realized who must have been in my room last night."
Thomas stared. "You have?"
"Yes. I think it was one of the grooms. Tristan asked him to keep an eye on me."
Thomas felt a hot rage rising up inside him. "Why in the world would Parrington have a damned groom keep an eye on you?"
"Because, well... I mean, things have changed."
Blythe's awkward protection of Tristan Carrow made Thomas even angrier.
"Because you have money now."
"I think so. Tristan's been so different lately, and the money's only a part of that. If I could give it to him and just have him go back to being himself, I would, but the terms of the inheritance are very clear. The money is meant to be held in trust for me until I marry, when it will become part of my dowry."
"And Parrington probably doesn't like the idea of the estate passing out of his family, even if he never knew about it."
"Don't be terrible. Tristan's a good man, and no matter what my condition has been, he has always treated me like a sister."
Thomas looked at Blythe, and his heart ached. It was too easy to imagine her as a friendless young girl, and the Carrows the only safe port in the storm after her parents died.
When he spoke, he kept his voice as gentle as he could. "But he's not treating you like a sister now. Look, Blythe. if I tried to treat Georgiana the way he treated you, forcing you to events you don't want to go to, having you followed, she would be screaming the house down. He cannot treat you like this."
Blythe gave him a small and rather desolate smile. "Most of the world is very different from the one you and your sister live in. Up until very recently, I have been Tristan's charity case, and he is still my guardian. I'm afraid he can treat me how he likes."
She looked so small and sad that Thomas reached out to cup her cheek with one hand. It was perhaps a mistake, though not one he was willing to regret. A bolt of lightning shot between them the moment his skin touched hers, and he heard her gasp of breath at the sensation.
Blythe was so unlike the beauties of the ton, but there was something utterly breathtaking about her when she looked up at him with those dark eyes. Without breaking their gaze, he ran his thumb over the pink fullness of her lower lip. He could only think about how soft her lips were, and then her little pink tongue came out to lap kitten-like at his digit.
"Blythe, you have no idea what you are doing to me."
She considered it. A pink flush spread over her cheeks, but she didn't look away. "I might."
Thomas shivered at her words, and he took her hand, drawing her over to sit in his lap. The servants wouldn't come in without announcing themselves, and for once, they were not in the streets of Seven Dials or in front of the entire goddamn ton.
Thomas was overtaken by the closeness of her body, how he could feel her warmth through her old and drab clothing. She felt as light as a little bird on his lap, and when he cupped his hand over the back of her neck, he wondered at the delicate bones of her spine.
"Blythe, if you're going to stop me, you should do so now."
"I'm not sure I can."
Something in him wrenched at the almost painful honesty of her reply. When his lips met hers, he would be hard-pressed to say whether she had leaned in or he had. Then nothing else mattered except the wild beauty of kissing her, of feeling her soft mouth on his and the way her hands clutched onto his shirt for balance, for support, or perhaps simply to be closer to him.
Kissing her blew the top of his mind, and almost subconsciously, he gathered her a little closer to his body. Thomas had kissed many women, and he wasn't sure that anyone had ever felt as good as Blythe did just then. His body responded to her closeness, and he wanted nothing more than to take her up to bed to explore her full response.
She made a tiny whimpering sound when he slid his tongue along first her lower lip and then between them. Her mouth was a perfect velvety heaven, and Thomas knew he could kiss this girl until the sky fell in and it would simply not be enough. Never be enough.
"We shouldn't do this." Her whisper was a small and shaky thing, but Thomas could feel her hands tighten n his shirt, as if afraid someone might pull her away.
"If you truly think that, then you should get up."
She shook her head, either refusing to think of it or refusing to get up. It didn't matter either way, however, because at this point, Thomas wasn't sure he could ever let her go.
"Well, this is a perfect thing to see when I was just expecting some eggs."
The servants had to announce themselves before entering the breakfast nook, but his sister had no such qualms. Thomas jumped, and Blythe might have tumbled out of his lap entirely if he hadn't caught her.
"Georgiana, I didn't expect you to be up for hours yet."
Georgiana grinned. "Obviously. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would come down and get some breakfast. Imagine my surprise at catching my brother, the rake, with a missionary."
Blythe stuttered something garbled, and Thomas flinched a little when he saw a red blush rise up on her fair cheeks. It was shame and not pleasure, and for some reason, beyond the immediate and obvious, that stung.
"Leave off, Georgiana. Tease me if you wish but be gentle with Blythe."
"By all means. You're used to my teasing, and she is not. Blythe, I was actually looking for you. Our cousin Tabi left some clothes here when she was in town last, and while my things haven't a prayer of fitting you, hers might. Shall we go see? It's really not the thing to be seen walking around like a little dish scrubber, no matter how many donations you get because of it."
Blythe looked at Thomas, who nodded. "Go. After you get some decent clothes, perhaps I can take us all out for some coffee, and we can talk about what comes next."
For a moment, it looked as if Blythe would very much like to ignore Georgiana's presence and kiss Thomas goodbye, but she nodded, squaring her shoulders a little. "That is very generous of you, Georgiana, thank you."
The two left, and Thomas thought with some amusement that there was probably no unlikelier pair in London. No one would think that the prim little missionary girl Blythe pretended to be would tolerate Georgiana's wildness, and no one would ever dream that Georgiana Carrow would keep her claws sheathed around an innocent like Blythe.
Georgiana sees what I do. She can tell how spirited Blythe is, and how lovely.
Thomas’ thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a very harried young footman at the door. "What's wrong? Most emergencies that require my presence don't occur so early in the day."
"I beg your pardon, my lord, but Wilkins sent me to get you right away. He's having some trouble with a guest.”
Thomas rose grimly to his feet. "I can imagine who that is. I'm coming."
Tristan Carrow's very presence at the Martin townhouse felt like an insult. At least, the very moment that Thomas saw the other man there, he felt a trickle of rage go through him. He resolved to be civil, however, as it was his house and he was raised with manners, but all thoughts of civility went out of his head when Tristan turned to him.
"What the hell have you done to Blythe?"
"And a very good morning to you, too, Parrington. I am pleased to see that you could get the smell of champagne out of your hair so very easily."
For a moment, Thomas thought that Tristan was going to try to punch him right then and there. He didn't particularly like the idea of brawling in his own damned parlor, but when the other combatant was Tristan Carrow, he might have been willing to make an exception. At the last moment, Tristan seemed to pull himself back, instead content to glare at Thomas.
"I spent an hour looking for her at the Gorsing's crush, and when I couldn't find her, I thought she might have gone home ahead of me. She wasn't there, nor was she at the houses of any of the women with whom she stays the night after doing her charitable work."
Thomas wondered how Tristan would feel if he knew those other women probably had no idea what he was talking about. The idea of knowing something about Blythe that Tristan didn't made Thomas feel oddly smug and superior, but once again, that wasn't hard when he was dealing with a Carrow.
"I've been searching for her all night and all morning, and it wasn't until I rousted Lady Gorsing out of bed that she remembered that she had seen my ward leave with your damned sister, of all people."
"I assure you, Parrington, my sister is not so very unpopular that you must work your way through Blythe's list of friends before you get down to Georgiana."
"You are to call her Miss Dennings. Why the hell are you using her first name? How long has this been going on?"
Thomas crossed his arm over his chest, but he couldn't quite lose the small smirk in his voice. "How long has what been going on? If you mean your behaving like an ass, I should say for some, what, twenty-five, thirty years?"
It looked as if Tristan held himself back from striking Thomas down only with some difficulty. At this point, Thomas would have welcomed it. It would at the least be an excuse to get Tristan on the dueling field.
"You and your sister are the worst dregs that the Thames has ever thrown up," Tristan snapped. "You have Blythe here. Send for her. I am taking her home this minute."
Thomas studied him for a minute. "No."
Tristan goggled at him for a moment. "She is my ward, and you have absolutely no right to keep her here against her will!"
"Oh, do you think she's being kept here against her will? Are you really so bullheaded that you cannot imagine her being unhappy with being kept like a virtual prisoner in her own home and having men spy on her?"
Tristan jerked as if he had not expected Thomas to know those things. "What I am doing, I am doing for her own good. Now call her, or I will have the constables come in and arrest you and your sister for kidnapping."
"Go right ahead," Thomas said. "When they get here, we'll find out how they feel about terrorizing young heiresses and scaring them so badly they run out into the streets."
"You are an insufferable arse. Call her."
When Thomas refused again, Tristan crossed the floor in two long strides, fisting his hand in Thomas’ fresh cravat and jerking him forward. Thomas saw the grab coming, but he didn't stop him. If Tristan took the first swing, Thomas would be entirely justified in beating the man as he so richly deserved.
"Tristan, no!"
The cry coming from the door had an anguished note to it that tore Thomas in two with the twin urges to comfort Blythe in her pain and simultaneously to destroy whoever had caused it. It also had the effect of making Tristan drop his hold on Thomas’ clothing, turning toward the door.
Tabi was taller than Blythe, but her left-behind clothes fit Blythe rather well. In the back of Thomas’ mind, he wondered if Blythe would get along with strange little Tabi, and if she would get along with his father as well. Then he snapped to the present situation where Tristan was striding toward Blythe like the very wrath of God.
With a growl, he grabbed Tristan's arm, yanking him back. There would have been a fight, and to hell with who threw the first punch, but then Blythe was there, her hand on Thomas’ arm.
"Please. Just stop. Tristan, I'm so sorry..."
"Damned right you should be sorry. I thought you were lying dead somewhere, Blythe."
Blythe winced, and Thomas ached to simply pound Tristan into the ground.
"I'm sorry. I was just so confused and upset, and I didn't know—"
"It doesn't matter. You are coming home with me this minute."
"You don't have to, Blythe."
All three of them turned to the doorway, where Georgiana stood, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes like chips of glacial ice. She spoke to Blythe, but her gaze never left Tristan Carrow.
"Georgiana, I need to go home."
"If you say the word, my brother and I will give you sanctuary. If you are afraid, if you are being abused at the hands of Tristan Carrow, you don't have to go with him."
Thomas bore no love for the Carrow clan, but he wasn't sure he had ever sounded as venomous as Georgiana did at this moment.
Blythe shook her head. "Thank you so much for your hospitality and your kindness, Georgiana. I need to go home though. I cannot stay away forever."
She didn't look at Thomas at all, no matter how he tried to catch her gaze. He had the feeling she was almost afraid to look at him.
Instead, she turned to Tristan. "I'm sorry, Tristan. I'm ready to go home."
After the two left, the silence in the parlor was deafening.
Georgiana broke it first, shaking her head with a grim look on her face. "I am going to spend some time in the main hall practicing fencing drills. It is that or I shall go and skewer Tristan Carrow straight through the place where his heart ought to be."
Thomas looked at his sister shrewdly. "You seem very angry about Parrington."
"Why aren't you? He just walked out of here with poor Blythe, and who knows what the hell he's going to do to her."
"If she had asked to stay, I would have moved heaven and earth to keep her here. I can't take that choice away from her. There's been too much of that going on lately."
Georgiana's gaze still had that angry heat to it, but there was a soft and surprising sadness that stole into it as well. "Such is the way for women everywhere. I'm off to practice with my saber. Don't come looking for me unless you're prepared to defend yourself."
Georgiana left, and Thomas was left on his own. He wouldn't take Blythe's choice away from her. However, there was no harm in offering her an alternative, was there?