Ghost of the Thames (12 page)

“You looked as pale as a ghost
yesterday morning. And yet you look flushed now. Are you not well?”
he asked, reaching for her hand.

“No. I am quite well. It’s the
clothes. I don’t understand the Englishwoman’s preference to lacing
their bodies in so tightly.” She bit her bottom lip, suddenly
mortified at having spoken the words out loud.

His burst of laughter rang through the
room.

“I’m sorry. Please, disregard what I
said. I was not suggesting . . . please!”

“Fine. I shall try my best to be a
gentleman and not offer an immediate remedy.”

He led her to a table by the window,
where breakfast had been laid out. The smile remained on his
lips.

“It must be nearly two days since
you’ve eaten anything.”

She was impressed by the crisp white
linen and the vase of holly with its bright red berries. Sitting
down, Sophy found she was more thirsty than hungry. She poured tea
for them both from a silver pot. It didn’t escape her attention
that he was watching her every move.

“Since I have agreed to report every
step I take out of this house, I want you to know that I plan to
visit the constable in Chelsea and confess what I did.”

“No need,” he replied, spreading a
napkin on his lap. “The man who attacked you is alive. He should
recover, I’m told.”

“I didn’t kill him?” she said, relief
washing through her.

“I made some discreet inquiries. This
Jack Slade fellow was apparently carried to a surgeon in Chelsea.
The surgeon reported to a friend of mine that Slade told him he was
knifed by a pickpocket. There will be no complaints to the
authorities.”

Sophy’s feeling of relief was
short-lived, however, as the faces of the women who were leaving
Cremorne House that night came back to her. They feared him, and
with good reason.

“How far is Soho Square from Chelsea?”
she asked.

“Why?” he asked, sitting back in his
chair. “Do you plan to go back there and finish him?”

“No! I don’t want to run into him on
the street.”

The captain nodded. “You are far
enough away. And I will be watching over you now. That villain will
never come near you or touch you.”

The possessive tone in his voice was
unmistakable. His dark eyes could melt a woman to a puddle, and
Sophy was far from indifferent to his attentions. But deep down,
there was a voice that cried out against anyone owning her,
possessing her. But Sophy was aware enough of the realities of her
life not to risk offending him.

“I have to notify Mrs. Tibbs at the
Cottage of my whereabouts.”

“I have taken care of that through
Dickens. I met with him yesterday.”

She put the cup of tea down,
embarrassed to think that whatever assumption Mrs. Tibbs and Mr.
Dickens had made regarding her before, this new arrangement
confirmed it.

“Incidentally, Dickens wants to meet
with you as soon as possible.”

Sophy looked up, surprised. “Why? Does
he intend to reprimand me?”

“No, of course not. He is fascinated
by you.”

She shook her head. “I believe he has
disliked me from the very beginning. He must feel he is well rid of
me.”

“’
Dislike’? Definitely the
wrong word,” he responded. “I think you are correct that he is
relieved not to have you at Urania Cottage. You are nothing like
his charity cases. But I believe he is intrigued by you and by the
circumstances preceding your appearance in front of my carriage.
You are a mystery to be solved, and Dickens loves
mysteries.”

Sophy was not ready to be studied like
some new species of jungle insect. She sipped her tea. In fact, she
wasn’t certain she liked Mr. Dickens, at all, in spite of his
forced kindness to her.

“And do
you
think of me as a
mystery, too, Captain?”

He was slow in answering, and this
made her uncomfortable under his intense gaze.

“I think you are complicated, smart,
and there are pieces of your past that are already apparent to you
that you choose to keep to yourself.”

She put the cup down, fearing that the
trembling of her hand would give her away.

“I think you are brave, but feeling
frightened and alone.” He reached across the table and took her
hand, his thumb caressing her palm before bringing her fingers to
his lips. “I also think that you are extremely beautiful, and if
you are a mystery, I intend to enjoy every minute possible
unraveling you.”

Sophy was certain that the pounding of
her heart was loud enough to be heard on the street. Her skin was
on fire. Her body tingled in the most private places. She drew her
hand back and looked down at the food she hadn’t touched. Whatever
her past, she was already prepared to be whatever he wanted her to
be. She’d do what he wanted her to do.

“But why don’t you eat?” he said
cheerfully. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”

“What are we doing?”

“We are going to retrace your late
night journeys in the daylight. And not on foot, but in a carriage,
as I don’t want to tire you too much.”

“No?” She hazarded a glance at his
face.

“No! I want you awake and rested for
what I have planned for you tonight.”

Sophy was in deep trouble.

CHAPTER 13

It soon became apparent to Edward that
Sophy had no desire to go back to the places that she had visited
at night.

When they arrived at Hammersmith
Village, she refused to step out of the carriage or even speak with
the locals to see if anyone might recognize her.

The trip to the pleasure gardens in
Chelsea was met with even less enthusiasm. In spite of what Edward
had told Sophy, the injuries to Jack Slade were serious. The pimp
was not going to be leaving his bed for quite some time, if ever,
by all accounts.

Even after being told the man would
not be up and about, however, she wouldn’t even look out the
carriage window. She wanted to be away from there as soon as they
arrived.

This suited Edward perfectly well, of
course, as it was very difficult to sit so close to her and not
think of touching her or kissing her or taking her back to her
lodgings and making love to her. All his good intentions of
spending the day helping her search for her past were rapidly being
forgotten. She was too tempting, and her coy gestures of trying to
keep him at a distance only added to her allure.

“Would you care for a stroll through
Hyde Park? It's a nice day for a walk.”

She was clearly relieved as the
carriage rolled away from Cremorne House, but a new concern showed
in her furrowing brow.

“No, I do not think that is a good
idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because we might cross paths with
people who know you. I cannot allow that.”

“And why is that?” Edward asked,
amused.

“You are a respectable gentleman. I
have no name, no memory. I am a castaway.”

“So now you are a
castaway?”

“Exactly. The night you met me, I was
thrown into the river, with no more value than to serve as bait for
the fish. I’ve decided I must have been a river man’s wife.” A
lurch of the carriage turning jounced her toward him, and their
bodies were pressed together, from hip to shoulder. She sent him a
shy look, inching away on the bench.

“Fish bait, you say?” He lifted her
wrist off her lap. Her hand was clenched into a fist. Gently, he
spread her fingers over his open palm. Her skin was smooth as
silk.

“A river man’s wife,” she said
quietly, trying to pull her hand away. He held it. “Married. With
five children.”

“So many?”

She was beautiful, Edward thought,
studying her profile. She’d removed her bonnet as soon as they got
into the carriage, and he had no objections, at all. Chestnut
ringlets, having escaped their confines, danced against her
beautiful skin and delicate ear. He studied the pulse of the vein
in her neck. He brought his mouth close to kiss it.

“The waterfront!” she blurted out,
tearing her hand away and moving to the seat across from him.
“Could we go someplace where there are ships?”

He smiled at her. She was flustered,
breathless. He could tell she would do anything to delay the
inevitable. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No.”

He was relieved when she met his gaze.
There was no fear, only nervousness evident in the way she quickly
averted her eyes.

“Then are you concerned
about what is happening between us? About what
will
happen between us?”

“I am
only
thinking of my husband and five
children,” she said, a smile touching the corner of her
lips.

“Oh, yes. How could I forget those
five children?”

Edward realized she was trying to buy
time. The easiest way would have been to take her back to bed this
morning and simply ravish her. This would have eased the tension
for both of them. But right now, he had to admit, he was
entertained by the chase.

“So you want to see ships,” he
repeated, shaking his head in amusement. “Do you have any specific
type of ships in mind?”

She cocked her head in surprise.
“Seagoing ships.”

He leaned out and directed the driver
to take them to the West India Docks.

As they traveled through the city,
Sophy asked questions about different locations where ships arrived
and docked in London. He answered her questions, telling her that
for decades, the great merchant shipping trade was centered east of
the city, in dockyards constructed on the Isle of Dogs, where the
Thames dipped in a large circuitous bow.

“But you will
never
travel where we
are going on foot in the middle of night or in the day, either. Do
you understand?”

“I believe your
instructions were clear.” She coughed slightly, put on a frown too
much like his, he realized, and continued with a tone too mockingly
similar to his. “No straying on your own, Sophy. No exposing
yourself to the dangerous lowlifes of the city. You will venture
out only in the company of someone I agree to. And that is only in
the daylight. Do you
understand
?”

He reached over and grabbed her by the
waist, pulling her in one sweeping motion onto his lap.

She gasped and he kissed her, a hard
bruising kiss that ended before she could fight him. He pulled
back.

She didn’t move. Her face was inches
away from his. Her eyes wide. A beautiful blush was blooming on her
cheeks. He could have sworn she’d stopped breathing entirely. But
her heart was beating so hard that he could hear it, or was it the
sound of his own heart.

“So beautiful,” he murmured against
her lips, staring into specks of gold in her dark eyes. He brushed
a finger across one smooth and perfect cheek. He touched her bottom
lip, still wet from his kiss. He felt her shudder, her eyes half
closing. There was no nervousness now. He could see desire in her
eyes.

His lips lowered to hers again, this
time gently. Caressing, tasting the fullness of her bottom
lip.

“Sophy.”

He dug his fingers into her hair,
cupping the back of her neck, bringing her mouth closer to his,
teasing the seam of her lips with his tongue.

Her surrender was the sweetest sound
he’d ever heard. A soft moan escaped her throat, her eyes closed,
and her hands fisted before fluttering open against his chest. He
deepened the kiss, thrusting into the sweet opening of her mouth,
sampling, exploring. She trembled in his arms, becoming
soft.

Edward pushed her arms around his neck
and gathered her closer against his chest until there was not a
breath of air left between them. Their mouths danced in a
passionate rhythm that continued on as the carriage rolled down the
streets.

She was still timid, only following
his lead and doing what he showed her to do. It took great effort
to go no further when all he was thinking of was how exciting it
would be to lift her skirts and have her straddle him here in the
carriage. He ached to bury himself deep inside of her—take her
right here, right now.

The carriage eventually lurched to a
stop. He knew where they were. The sounds from the docks surrounded
them. He drew back from the kiss and looked into her face. Her eyes
were slow to open. She was still in a passionate daze. He traced
her lips with his fingers. They were swollen from his
kisses.

“We have arrived,” he told her. “The
West India Docks. Are you certain you want to get out?”

Her hands withdrew slowly from his
shoulders. The blush was back in her cheeks as she tried to move
off his lap. But he held her there.

“We can delay this visit. We can come
another day if you’d rather go back to Soho and engage in an
activity much more satisfying.” He let his finger trace slowly down
from her lip to her chin to her neck and down the front of her
dress. She caught his hand when it reached her breast. Her eyes
were wide and fixed on him as she moved to the seat
across.