Ghost of the Thames (25 page)

Sophy felt something inside her
tighten. A taut cord of independence, of self-confidence, had been
strung within her from an early age. It was what made her so
different from the young women at the Cottage. And she now
understood the source of it. She had been raised to be strong. This
was her life and she would fight John Warren for it.

“I wonder how well he knows me,” Sophy
said quietly.

“He has only met you once in the past
ten years. That was the night you disappeared.”

Sophy rubbed the back of her neck as
she started pacing the room. Something happened that night. A
conversation had taken place. Something had been said that she
couldn’t remember. But whatever it was, suddenly she had known that
she needed to get away from that ship. She had no
choice.

Yesterday, a man had stepped in front
of her and fired a pistol. That was no random act of violence.
There had been no mistaking that she was his target.

Edward had known her life was in
danger. She looked across the room at him. He watched her, concern
etched in every feature. He expected her to be angry for holding
back what he knew of her identity. On the contrary, she was
indebted to him for keeping her safe. He was the only one in the
world that she was certain she could trust.

Another thought occurred to
her.

“Priya. She was with me that last
night on the ship. If I see her, if I can speak to her . . .” She
paused. “Does anyone know where she is?”

“Yes. She is being kept at your
uncle's house. Dickens tried to see her, but he was turned
away.”

Sophy wrapped her arms around her
middle and stared blankly ahead. Knowing who she was, finding she
had a name and position and wealth, didn’t ease her
burden.

The room was quiet. Neither said
anything for the longest time. Then, she looked over at Edward and
felt her throat tighten. Elbows on his knees, he was staring into
the ashes of what was left of the fire, lost in a world of his own.
Tonight, Sophy had discovered her past, and he had found that an
innocent girl who had been left in his care was never coming
back.

She walked over and sat next to him on
the sofa. She reached for his hand and brought it to her lap. His
hand was large and strong. It was dark and weathered. A thin white
scar ran from his knuckles and disappeared beneath the cuff of his
shirt. This was a hand that had held fast in tempest and in battle.
When she looked up, his dark eyes were looking searchingly into
hers.

“Can you forgive me for what I have
held back from you?”

“Held back? You have continually
showered me with generosity. You have treated me with the utmost
respect. You have carefully introduced me into society and kept me
safe from those who wanted to cause me harm.”

“So the answer is no, you cannot
forgive me.”

Sophy laughed softly. “Clearly, I have
a great deal to be angry about.” She leaned forward and kissed him
on the lips. “Reproach is the farthest thing from my mind,
Edward.”

His arm wrapped around her, and he
pulled her into a tight embrace. He just held her, and she knew
this was what both of them needed at this moment. There were so
many things to think through, but right now Sophy’s strength came
from the knowledge that she hadn’t lost him. He still wanted her in
his life.

*

It had been too long. Edward had to
have her. She was as impatient as he as they raced upstairs. Once
in the bedroom, he locked the door and turned to her. Her eyes
shone with desire. In an instant, they were tugging at each others
clothes, neither slowing until they fell naked in each others arms
onto the bed.

Her dark eyes looked into his. The
intensity of her gaze made Edward realize that she was no longer
thinking of her newfound identity or of the hurt he had caused her.
She was focused only on him.

“I have been wishing for this since
the first time we made love." Her voice was soft, like the rustle
of wind in the trees. "From that first night."

He cupped her cheek with one hand. “So
have I.”

"But you stayed away."

"I was keeping your identity from you.
I felt I was betraying you."

"No more apologies," she whispered,
tracing the furrows on his brow. She caressed the line of his jaw
and touched his lips. She kissed his chin. “No more
reproaches.”

“I will never stay away
again.”

Her feathery touch was sending waves
of heat downward through his body. They lay close enough that it
was impossible for her to miss his rising manhood pressing against
her.

"I will hold you to that
promise."

He smiled and lowered his head,
tasting her lips, her cheek, the delicious hollow of her
neck.

She stretched her body, sliding one
foot along his leg. Her fingers traced the muscles of his
back.

He kissed her lips gently, feeling her
body form to his. She tasted sweet, her mouth hot as she let his
tongue inside. Edward’s fingers threaded into her silky hair as
their mouths moved searchingly against each other. Hunger continued
to build in him, and he fought his body's craving to take what she
offered…fast, hard. He had to calm the roar in his head and focus
on giving this beautiful and trusting woman what she desired. What
she deserved. He wanted Sophy forget about all that had happened,
about all the sadness and danger she'd experienced.

His fingers moved from knee to thigh
to the junction of flesh above. She was already moist, ready for
him. He slipped a finger deep inside and groaned as her body
clutched at him, welcoming his intrusion. His thumb slid between
her damp folds, finding the sensitive crown. Edward watched as
Sophy arched her back and pressed against his touch.

He kissed her jaw, her neck, before
mouthing her breast.

She tried to pull him on top of her.
“Take me, Edward. Come inside of me.”

Edward was ready.
Too
ready, he thought.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and rolled on the bed until she
was on top of him. She looked at him in surprise and sat up, her
hands flat on his chest. Her hair draped like a lustrous blanket
over her alabaster skin. Her breasts, full and perfect, waited to
be tasted. He positioned against her wetness.

“Take me inside of you.”

She leaned forward, letting the end of
her thick hair sweep over his chest and pushing Edward even closer
to the edge.

“Now,” he whispered the
command.

She lifted herself slightly, and her
fingers wrapped around him before she slowly guided him into her.
He raised his hips as she lowered herself, encasing his shaft in
that exquisite warmth that had no equal, and each of them groaned
with pleasure.

He sat up and kissed the tip of one
breast before taking the other one into his mouth and suckling
deeply. She held his head and cried out softly with pleasure. He
dropped back onto the pillow and watched the wonder in her face as
she moved by instinct, finding her own rhythm in the love
dance.

Never had making love meant anything
to Edward as it did now, here with Sophy. Never before had he
wanted to spend time with any woman as he wanted to be with her.
Never had any woman bewitched him, entertained him, challenged him,
stirred him with such passion. He had to keep Sophy
safe.

She was his to cherish and to
protect.

CHAPTER 28

Peter Hodgson read with great interest
the letter John Warren handed to him. There was no mention of the
coroner Harmon anywhere on the page. “A summons for a coroner’s
inquest. In two weeks.”

“Yes.”

“And a new coroner on the
bench.”

“Yes. This one will settle
the bloody business once and for all. Catherine
will
be declared dead that
day.”

Hodgson thought back over the past
couple of days and the shooting in the Hyde Park. The girl had
escaped. There had been some arrests, but they didn’t concern him,
at all. Those men were paid too well to disclose any information
about who hired them.

And no one working for Shill would
talk, anyway.

But the heart of the matter was that,
so far, not one newspaper had discovered any link between the young
woman on horseback and John Warren or himself. And no one,
including his hired thugs, had even an inkling that their victim
was Catherine Warren. The attackers had decided on this woman based
on descriptions and the fact that she had met with the novelist
Dickens. As far as anyone knew, she could have been the Queen of
Sheba.

And now, Miss Warren was about to be
declared legally dead, and the cause of death would be
‘accidental’, of course.

Hodgson frowned. He couldn’t stop from
asking the question that was burning on his tongue.

“But sir, even with the coroner on
your payroll, will you not need a body. And with so much of the
case already in newspapers, would it be wise to expose yourself to
a charge that an officer of the court might be in your pocket. You
wouldn’t wish for further investigation.”

A rare but mirthless smile stretched
the old man’s thin lips. “There is so much that you need to learn
about this business, Hodgson.”

“Yes, that could not be truer, sir,”
Hodgson said in the humble tone that he’d mastered over the years.
“And as you know, I am eternally grateful for every opportunity
that you honor me with.”

“You know what a corpse dredged out of
river looks like after having the fish nibble at it for a week,”
Warren said.

“Yes, sir. I’ve seen the corpses with
you at the riverfront police station.”

“Yes,” he sneered. “But how about
after two weeks?”

“Yes, sir.”

“A month?”

Thankfully, they’d stopped looking at
bodies in recent weeks. “No, but I am quite certain they are
hideous.”

“And how about six weeks? Or two
months?”

An uncontrollable shudder ran through
Hodgson.

“How much of her do you think would be
left of my niece if her corpse were to be dragged out of the Thames
after that length of time?”

“I must say, sir, that I wish never to
lay eyes on such a sight.”

“We live in a great city where
anything can be bought and sold. And this includes corpses,” Warren
explained. “You will order me the corpse of a woman who has been in
the water that long. Her hair must be the same color as
Catherine’s. And with some piece of jewelry belonging to her father
found on the body, I dare anyone to deny the identity. And this
includes the Gaali witch Priya . . . if they decide to bring her
into it.”

For the first time, Hodgson could see
why his employer had insisted on waiting before identifying a
corpse belonging to his niece.

“Are you with me, Hodgson?”

“Always, sir. I am always at your
service.”

CHAPTER 29

“Let us assume that you wish, most of
all, to put a stop to your uncle’s schemes.” Angela Burdett-Coutts
suggested, bypassing the pleasantries and getting straight to the
purpose of her visit.

“Absolutely,” Sophy
responded.

Angela looked across at her companion,
who was gazing back at them with a conspiratorial air. “Mrs. Brown
and I have, just this morning, concocted a little plot of our
own.”

“I am anxious to hear it.”

“As far as the law and the courts are
concerned, you are missing. Whether you died the night you fell off
your ship and drowned or whether you were shot in the park a few
days ago, it makes no difference. So long as your uncle is able to
produce a body—and nothing ties him to the death—you will be
declared legally dead, and he inherits your fortune.”

“Unless I stop him.”

“Unless,” Angela said in a
confidential tone, “you are publicly and formally acknowledged to
be alive.”

“He cannot injure you then,” Mrs.
Brown added. “If something happens to you after you are known to be
alive, every suspicion will fall on him.”

“John Warren knows there is too much
interest in you as a missing person. There will be even more
interest in you once you are presented in public.”

“But the Captain and I have discussed
this. Because I cannot recall the details of the night of my
disappearance, he does not want me to hand myself over to the very
man who might have intended violence--to the man who is very likely
behind the attack in the park. My uncle could still do me in and
never make a public acknowledgement of my appearance.”

“Well, this is where my society
connections can be of help.” Angela patted Sophy on the knee. “Tell
me, did you accept an invitation from Lord Beauchamp for next
week?”

“Actually, in light of the incident in
the park, I didn’t.”

“That is of no consequence. In fact,
it will be better this way. I will write to him and mention that I
am bringing a very dear friend with me. Also, we will make subtle
inquiries and make certain John Warren is going to be in
attendance.”