Suzanne Robinson (17 page)

“No one makes me run and hide, Mr. Ross.”

In a single, smooth movement he was beside her, his lips close to her pink ear. “I can make you do both, love, and I will, if it will get you away from a murderer.”

Georgiana shivered and took a quick step away from him.

“How many times must I repeat it? I’m not running away. If someone is trying to scare me, they’ll do worse to Threshfield once I’m gone. Did you ever think of that, Mr.-I-Know-What’s-Best-for-Everyone?”

“You ain’t going to leave?”

“No.”

“Sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

Nick walked around her in a circle that put him between Georgiana and the intersection with the Quadrant. “Which do you think scares you more—what this murderer may do, or what I might do to you?”

“What an absurd question,” she said as she eyed him warily.

“Is it? Let’s find out.”

He threw her off guard by making no abrupt movements. Instead, he merely walked toward her and kept walking. When he didn’t stop, she backed from him. Moving to the side whenever she did, he easily herded her until her crinoline hit the wall beside a shuttered and abandoned shop. Georgiana turned and clamped her hand on her teetering skirt.

“Here, let me help you,” Nick said, and he pressed close.

At the same time he grabbed the crinoline and flipped the back of it up so that it caught between Georgiana and the wall. She was trapped between his body and the wall. He saw her furious expression. Her lips parted. She was going to scream, so he quickly put his hands on either side of her face and whispered.

“Don’t, please.”

At his touch she went still and gazed at him as if transfixed. For his part, Nick hadn’t counted on the feel of her skin distracting him so that he nearly forgot his name. It was like tracing liquid pearls with his fingertips. He couldn’t help touching his lips to that softness.

Flattening his hands on the wall, he leaned into her and found her mouth. He sank into a hot pool of sensation, knowing and not caring that he shouldn’t press his chest against her breasts or his hips against hers. He felt the mounds of softness burgeon against him, and suddenly he was fighting a ruthless, primitive impulse to drag up her skirt and abandon himself to lust. His hand left the wall and began to burrow under yards of fabric.

“Oh, my!”

A strange voice. Nick lifted his lips from Georgiana’s to find that the woman who had passed them earlier had come out of the stay maker’s. She was standing on the threshold of the shop, a hand over her mouth, her bonnet quivering with shock. Georgiana gave a little cry, shoved him, and began straightening her clothing. The woman scurried away.

He’d lost control of himself again and almost molested Jocelin’s sister. Nick cursed himself, and Georgiana too. If she would do as she was told, he wouldn’t be put in this miserable situation. He eyed her as she retied her bonnet ribbons. Damn her. She needed a good thrashing. Since he couldn’t give her one, he’d do the next-best thing.

“No sense in fussing, love. I’ll have you mussed in seconds.”

He began his stalking again. She glanced up at him, then thrust out a hand to warn him off.

“Stay where you are.”

“I was right, wasn’t I? Say it.” He kept coming, and she directed her steps toward the intersection rather than a wall.

“Right about what?”

“Look at you. You’re shaking, love, and if I reach for you, you’ll jump like a cat with a stomped tail. You’re afraid of me. Told you.”

Still backing way, Georgiana jutted out her chin and tried to sneer. “I’m not afraid of you, and certainly not more than some imaginary murderer.”

The force of her grand claim was blunted when she caught her heel on a loose brick in the road and stumbled. Nick darted forward, caught her arms, and steadied her. He bent close enough to smell the jasmine scent of her hair.

His lips brushed her cheek as he said, “I think you’re scared now, love.”

Gasping, she jerked her head back, away from his lips. She froze in a startled pause. He could see the rapid beat of her pulse in a vein at her throat. He wanted to kiss it. And if he did, he might drag her into that deserted shop.

“I know what it is,” he said, fighting for control through a fog of lust. “You like it dangerous.”

“What?”

“That’s what sets you afire, love. Danger. You might get caught making love in a street, on a balcony.” He bent to mouth a hot whisper in her ear. “Maybe I should catch you in the plunge bath again.”

This time she shrieked like a falcon and bashed
him aside with both arms. He got a faceful of swirling skirt as she whirled and ran from him.

“Don’t go,” he called after her. “Brave Lady Georgiana, who scoffs at murderers and gets all hot for danger, you’re scampering like a frightened vole.”

She never looked back. His lips twisted into a half smile, half grimace from touching her. Trying to ignore his too-ready body, Nick followed Georgiana into the Quadrant.

Georgiana rushed into the Quadrant, nearly colliding with a flower vendor, and hurried down the street. Nick Ross was a foul wretch to lure her with kisses and forbidden touches only to taunt her for the weakness he induced. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? Because he enjoyed making her foolish with desire, and he loved making her cringe with mortification.

Walking quickly, she darted a glance over her shoulder and saw him coming after her with those long strides that made him seem to wade through the heavy crowds. If he caught her, he would find more ways to make her body betray her, and then he would mock her for it. She couldn’t endure such misery.

To her relief Georgiana saw the Threshfield carriage in the next block. Picking up her skirts, she began to run, dodging shoppers and street vendors. Traffic in the street had lightened and sped up, since many people had already sought home and the afternoon meal. Another glance told her that Nick was closing the distance between them.

“Hot sausages, nice and fresh. Hot sausages, inna bun!”

Georgiana skipped around the man and his cart of sausages. Only a little way to go. She could see Prudence climbing into the carriage across the street. Georgiana swerved, stepped off the curb, and heard Nick shout her name. She didn’t look at him. Her gaze was fixed on the carriage. Then she heard him bellow at her. She hesitated as she crossed the street, and looked back at him.

“Look out,” he shouted as he pointed behind her. “The cab!”

She turned to see a hansom careening toward her. She hurried across the street, but as she moved, the cab swerved so that she remained in its path. It barreled down on her, and she was caught in the middle of the street while an omnibus crossed her path. She turned and sprinted back the way she came. The horse drawing the cab turned and came at her, making the hansom swerve again. Georgiana made a last desperate leap to the curb.

Her gamble proved useless, for the hansom aimed at the sidewalk, scattering everyone in its path. The wheel of the cab rode over the curb, straight at Georgiana. She saw foam on the horse’s mouth, the blur of the spokes on the cab wheels. Then Nick rammed into her and swept her across the walk to the shelter of a shop doorway. The cab rolled over the spot on the curb where she’d been seconds earlier.

Her heart thumped like a drum and threatened to rattle up her throat to escape her body. Nick had thrown her against the shop door and covered her with his body. He stepped back and slipped his arms around her, which was fortunate, since her legs had
turned to molasses. Her mind seemed frozen and incapable of reason. She gripped Nick’s arm with both hands; its hard strength provided a shield while she tried to calm herself. Several passersby asked after her. He thanked them and assured them of her welfare while she clung to him, unable to do more than tremble and blink.

When they were alone again, he grabbed both her hands and stared into her eyes. “You all right, love?”

“I think so. Just startled.” She took a deep breath and let go of his arm. “Yes … yes, just startled.”

“You should be more than startled,” he snapped. “You should be scared to death.”

Her insides began to shake again. “It was only an accident. A runaway.”

“Bleeding hell, woman. Runaways don’t aim for anything, much less follow you onto the curb.”

Gnawing at her lower lip, Georgiana glanced over his shoulder in the direction in which the cab had vanished. “True.” She clamped her hands together. They felt cold despite her gloves. “True.”

“At last we agree. It’s about time, young George. Then we’ll leave in the morning.”

At his peremptory tone Georgiana frowned. “We will not.”

“And just bleeding why not?”

“I have asked you to amend your language, Mr. Ross.”

“I’m going to amend it on your backside if you don’t—”

“I’m not a fool, Nick.”

She was startled when he closed his eyes and sucked in his breath.

“Scrag me if it ain’t worse when you snap at me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Say my name again, love.”

Drawing her shawl about her shoulders, Georgiana scowled at him. “This is no time for familiarity, Mr. Ross. I agree that there is a possibility that this incident is no accident. However, I intend to prevent further occurrences by twisting Threshfield’s ear tonight until he admits his lies. So, you see, there’s no need to change my plans at all. Whoever is playing these pranks will have no need to do so after this evening.”

“Pranks, my arse. Someone’s trying to bloody kill you, you half-witted little beast.”

Stepping out of the doorway, Georgiana said, “I shall solve this problem myself, sir. But I am indebted to you for helping me avoid the cab. You have my undying gratitude, and I can never repay you.”

“Oh, I’ll think of a way, love. I’ll think of a way.”

She recognized the rough note in his voice and didn’t dare turn to face him. Instead, she crossed the street carefully, her legs still somewhat unsteady. She joined Lady Lavinia and Lady Augusta, who had just come from different directions to meet at the carriage. Lady Augusta saw Georgiana first and scrambled into the carriage before she joined them.

“Ah, Georgiana,” Lavinia said, studying them curiously. “And, Mr. Ross, how pleasant to meet you here. We were just about to set off for Threshfield.”

Prudence poked her head out of the carriage window, gave Nick an ingratiating smile that changed to a scowl when she saw Georgiana. “Do hurry up, Georgiana. I’m most annoyed with you for making yourself conspicuous by running in the streets.”

Nick tipped his hat to Prudence. “You saw what happened?”

“Everyone in the Quadrant saw it,” the lady said. She had slipped rings on over her gloves and placed one of them on her breast as she surreptitiously let her glance fall to Nick’s hips.

“But you didn’t warn Lady Georgiana of the cab. I would have heard you.” He gazed at Prudence speculatively.

The lady plumped her skirts and huffed. “Georgiana’s quite capable of taking care of herself.” She gave Nick a sly, beady glance. “And, anyway, why should I deprive you of another opportunity to lay hands upon her?”

“What are you babbling about, Prudence?” Lavinia asked. “What’s this about a cab, Georgiana?”

Prudence and Nick began talking at once, with Lady Augusta popping her head out the carriage window to add her own unique interpretation of the recent events. Finally an explanation was sorted out in which, due to Nick’s influence, the whole affair was deemed an accident.

Satisfied that Georgiana wasn’t hurt, Lavinia addressed Nick. “Will you accompany us, Mr. Ross?”

Georgiana hastened to reply before Nick could open his mouth.

“Mr. Ross has other matters to attend to, Aunt Livy.”

“Oh, I’m done,” he said with a smirk at her. “You ladies go on, and I’ll catch up on my mount.”

Georgiana fumed as he helped Lady Lavinia into the carriage. Then his hand encircled Georgiana’s arm. She pulled it free and grabbed her skirts. Setting her foot on the step, she gave a small jump to lift
herself into the carriage. She misjudged the height and landed back in the street. His hands latched on to her waist and propelled her up again. She ducked into the carriage only to feel his hand on her bottom, giving her a little shove. She gasped and turned on him as she sat down.

“Sorry, my lady,” he said with an unrepentant grin. “Didn’t want you popping back out again like a cork.”

“You ill-mannered, wretched, vulgar—”

All mocking, polite solicitude left his expression. She looked into his eyes and suddenly felt the chill of a glacier.

“There’s no more time for play,” he said quietly.

He slammed the carriage door in her face. Tipping his hat, he turned on his heel, leaving her pink-faced and sputtering. The carriage set off, throwing her back against the squabs. Aunt Livy and the others were staring at her.

“Really, Georgiana,” Prudence huffed. “One should be conscious of one’s demeanor at all times. I would think the daughter of a duke would know something so rudimentary and not castigate a gentleman in public like a costermonger’s wife.”

Georgiana settled back against the seat and let Prudence natter. Nick was right, drat him. Someone was trying to harm her. The thought was so strange. She had never been important enough for anyone to threaten. And she was beginning to feel rather foolish at having put herself in such a dangerous position. What hard currency Nick would make of that if he knew. But she wasn’t going to allow him the opportunity. She would forestall further disasters by making
Threshfield admit his lies tonight. She would corner him at once when they got home.