Chapter 10

10

Joshua had been awake for an hour at least. He'd pushed himself up against the pillows, biting back curses the entire time, and settled in to watch Sophia sleep. Her scent had reached him first. He'd thought himself dreaming when he inhaled the intoxicating mix of lilies and lemons she always wore. The minute his body decided to remind him of how he'd spent last night, he assumed he was not dreaming.

The various aches and pains faded once he opened his eyes and saw her golden hair a glorious mess on a small pillow resting on the mattress next to his hip. She had fallen asleep in the blue upholstered chair next to his bed, her head resting half on the pillow and half on her folded arms. He studied her face for any sign of injuries and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw none. However, he knew the terror she'd experienced at the men breaking into her home, her sanctuary she'd considered safe. The scars of that memory most likely would take a long time to heal.

The morning breeze wafted in from the open window and caressed his naked skin. The sheets had been drawn up to his waist and they clung to his flesh where he'd sweated through the night. The coolness of the air from outside felt good. If the light from the window was any indication, it was mid-morning. Grosvenor Street had always been fairly quiet, but he could hear a maid call to a footman and the rumble of a coal cart delivering coal to the houses across the street.

When he could resist no longer, he reached out and caressed Sophia's hair. She twitched and then jerked awake. "Joshua!" She threw herself onto his chest and kissed him. He savored her kiss and speared his aching hands through her hair. Suddenly she sat up and began patting his shoulder and side. "Did I hurt you? Let me see if I started the bleeding again."

"I'm perfectly fine. Oomf! Well, perhaps a little sore there. Ouch! And there," he added as she slowly moved off his chest to sit at his side.

"Does it hurt here?" She touched his uninjured shoulder.

"No? Why? What the devil!" She'd punched him on that shoulder. Hard for such a slight woman.

"You could have been killed last night. What were you up to before you came home to rescue me?"

"Rescue you? I think you and those Amazon mistresses of Framlingwood's were doing a damned good job of rescuing yourselves."

"You're not going to tell him, are you?" She appeared genuinely frightened and he hated that more than anything.

"I promised Mrs. Collins I would not tell a soul. I never break promises to women who threaten me with a pistol." He entwined his fingers with hers. The soft press of her palm and the callouses of her harpist's fingertips had imprinted themselves on him in such a way he would know her touch in the darkest night.

She brushed the fingers of her free hand across his bruised and broken knuckles and his swollen eye. "You didn't do this downstairs last night. Where were you? The earl and two other gentlemen are in my drawing room waiting to come up and speak with you. One of those men is a Bow Street runner. "Oddly enough," she continued. "They look almost as bad as you do."

"It is a very long story, my love." Her tone and the sharp focus of her gaze told him she knew far more than she was saying.

"I am an excellent listener." She tightened her grip on his hand. "Last night you said he's dead you know. Who is dead?"

Joshua went as still as a statue. He did all he could to keep his face impassive. "I don't know." His heart squeezed tightly. He needed to tell her the truth, but if he did he'd have to tell her everything, dammit. She would despise him for it. "I don't think I was in my right mind by the time I—"

A sharp rap at the door startled them both. Sophia dropped his hand and bent to give his nipple a quick kiss before she dropped into the chair and folded her hands in her lap.

"Vixen," he growled. He pulled the counterpane to his waist. "What am I supposed to do with this?" He nodded at his hard cock poking up against the covers.

"Come in," she said sweetly as she tossed her small pillow onto his lap.

Mrs. Collins stuck her head in the door. "You are awake, Mr. Norcross, and looking much better than you did last night. She step aside and allowed Framlingwood, Col, and Sythe into the room.

"I would not go that far, Mrs. Collins. He looks the same to me," Col said, as he strode across the carpets. "Archer Colwyn, Mrs. Hawksworth." He inclined his head.

"You would know best, Mr. Colwyn," Mrs. Collins said grimly. "Sophia, let us leave the gentlemen to it." The housekeeper all but lifted Sophia from the chair and steered her to the door.

"But, I…I suspect this conversation involves the events of last night." Sophia stopped in her tracks, hands on her hips. "What could you possibly say that I need not hear about three ruffians breaking into my house?"

"Stephen Forsythe, Mrs. Hawksworth." Sythe offered her a bow. "Unfortunately, we need to discuss some delicate legal matters with Mr. Norcross. Once we have finished I am certain he will be able to explain the events of last night to you."

She pursed her lips and glared at him in that stubborn way she had, and Joshua fought not to laugh. The barrister was no match for his Sophia. Framlingwood sidled next to her and put his arm around her. Joshua wanted to leap from the bed and plant the man a facer or two.

"Sophia, dear, we won't be long. Perhaps you can go next door and practice whilst we sort this out." His tone indicated he was not making a request which enraged Joshua all the more. He fisted the quilted silk counterpane so tightly, he felt the fabric shred.

"As you wish, my lord." Sophia dipped a curtsy and followed Mrs. Collins out of the room.

"I assume you three are here to tell me how much more I have to lie to that woman to keep her and the rest of your mistresses safe." Joshua crossed his arms and shifted on the bed to alleviate the ache in his side. "Who the devil hired those men to break in here last night? What did you find out about—"

"Do calm yourself, Norcross," Sythe said, as he took the chair Sophia had vacated. He retrieved a sheaf of papers from his ever-present leather portfolio. "We are here to tell you everything we have learned about what occurred last night both here and in Seven Dials."

Framlingwood pulled the wooden desk chair from the desk in the corner and sat down on the other side of the bed. "We're also here to tell you what you can and cannot tell Sophia about all of this." Harp music began to drift in from the room next door. Another of Sophia's compositions.

"The men who came here were hired by Martin Green," Col said, as he sat on the blanket chest at the foot of the bed. "At least he paid them. But they were recommended to him by the man we are fairly certain is Framlingwood's blackmailer. They've done work for this man before, though they don't know his name or who he is."

"The man in black," Joshua murmured.

"The very same," Sythe said. "He's known to hire the worst thugs in Seven Dials, and he contacts them through Betty, the tavern wench, or at least he did before he murdered her and Martin Green last night."

"You are certain then?"

"Dickie Jones saw him run to a hackney from that alley."

"He didn't see Dickie, did he?" Joshua had dragged the boy into the situation. He didn't want him to be in danger.

"A question Lady Camilla, CB, and Nathaniel Charpentier asked me so many times I will hear them in my sleep if I am ever allowed back in my wife's bed after showing up this morning looking as if I have been in a dockside melee in a tavern." Sythe nodded toward Col.

The runner shook his head. "Dickie has sworn to all of us., including Lady Camilla, he was not seen."

"You do look like you've been in a battle royal," Framlingwood said. "Not as bad as Norcross here, but bad enough. Young Dickie will never admit it, but he was frightened out of his wits by what he saw. Even now he is tucked up in one of Lady Camilla's opulent bedchambers being waited upon hand and foot."

"Poor lad," Norcross said with a grin. Then he sobered. "Why would the blackmailer murder a bumpkin like Green or someone like Betty? What harm could they do?"

"Any number of reasons," Col said. "Most likely because his bringing Green into the mix almost got him caught. You put Dickie's information to good use, Norcross. We got too close last night. The blackmailer cut his losses. And the thugs don't know enough to hurt him. They were told to kill Sophia and bring her body to St. Giles in the Fields. Green had a vested interest in her being found and identified." He cocked his head toward the music room. "She's quite good, isn't she?"

"What interest?" Joshua demanded. "What could be worth murdering an innocent woman and doing business with a man that ended up slitting his throat?' The wind picked up outside and rattled the window as it blew into the room. Joshua wanted to stand at the window and draw that cold air into his lungs because the more they talked, the more horrific the lies made him feel.

"A small estate in Kent and a large fortune in Drummond's Bank." Sythe plucked a few pages from the stack of papers he'd removed from his portfolio. "The will of one Hortense Green, widow of Lewis Green and aunt to Edward and Martin Green. The property was to go to Edward, and in the event of his death, to his widow, Mrs. Sophie Green." He gathered a large handful of opened letters and tossed them on top of the will. "These are letters from the solicitor who was made executor of the will. Apparently, the late Martin Green did everything he could to persuade the man to allow him to inherit without proof that Edward's wife was dead."

Joshua scanned a few of the letters from the solicitor to Sophie's brother-in-law. "And when he refused, Martin decided to take care of matters himself. How did he find your blackmailer?"

"From what Colwyn can tell, the blackmailer found him." Framlingwood ran his hands through his hair. "This man is more clever than I believed. I don't know about these two." He waved at Col and Sythe. "Apparently, he has people of every kind listening for mentions of one of my mistresses. When Martin Green asked about Sophia at St. Giles, someone carried the word to this blackmailer, and he ingratiated himself with this fool Green. This could have cost Sophia her life, Norcross. If you had not arrived when you did and dispatched the three men sitting in the Bow Street gaol…" He shook his head. "I can never repay you."

Joshua swallowed hard and chose his next words carefully. "I had help from the Rutherfords and Mrs. Collins. I would advise you not to make her angry, Framlingwood. She's a damned good shot." They all laughed quietly at that.

"You hired me to discover if Sophia…Mrs. Hawksworth…is a murderess. Are you satisfied she did not murder her husband?"

"I never thought she did," the earl said. "I know she didn't."

"Neither Col not I need to hear this conversation." Sythe packed up the solicitor's letters, but left the will in Joshua's lap. "She really is talented. That's a lovely piece she is playing."

"Her own composition," Joshua said with pride.

Forsythe listened for a few more bars. "I think it's time she's told she's an heiress. Come along, Col. My wife isn't the only one liable to pitch a perfume bottle at us for being out all night. You live with the mysterious, dare I say dangerous, chess mistress of the infamous Goodrum's."

Col shook his head ruefully. "She throws chess pieces. Marble ones with sharp edges," Col added, as he followed Sythe to the door. "You two have some decisions to make. But I would advise you not to tell Mrs. Hawksworth about the blackmail. Anyone who has knowledge of the situation could be in danger. The fewer people who know, the more likely we are to catch this fiend before he strikes again."

Joshua and Framlingwood studied each other carefully in complete silence. The coal laden air of London began to invade the room. The clock on the mantel chimed the hour.

"Marriage sounds like a dangerous proposition," Framlingwood finally said.

"For some, perhaps. If you did not suspect her of murdering her husband, whom did you suspect her of murdering?"

Framlingwood stood and strolled to the window. He glanced out and then turned back to Joshua. "I don't know what she has told you of her life. She was raised in Seven Dials by a cruel father and married off to a monster of a husband. I'm not certain how she escaped or what she did whilst working at Goodrum's." He shrugged. "A woman in desperate straits will do desperate things. Whichever of my mistresses, if any of them, turns out to be a murderess she'll have had her reasons, and I will do whatever I must to keep her safe."

"You're a decent man, Framlingwood." Joshua meant every word. He was a singular sort, even for a man with a title, but he did the best he could.

"So are you. Will you tell her everything?" The earl fixed Joshua with a steady gaze, and he realized at once the man knew. He knew Joshua was in love with Sophia.

"Yes. She deserves to know everything. I won't lie to her anymore."

"She may hate you for it. And with her inheritance, she doesn't need either of us. She'll run. To Kent or further with the kind of money she has now."

"I don't want her to need me. I want her to want me. At least this time when she runs she'll be running to something, not away from something."

"And that will make her running palatable to you?" The earl made his way to the door.

"Absolutely not. It will likely break me. Framlingwood?"

"Yes?"

"How do you know she didn't kill her husband?"

His face turned stony. His mouth twisted into a grim smile. "Last night wasn't the first time Dickie Jones and I walked away from a body at the back of the Prospect of Whitby."

Joshua was stunned for a moment, but only for a moment. "You killed him."

The earl simply gave a regal nod.

"Good." Joshua took a deep breath. "Can you stop by the music room and send Sophia to me?"

"Certainly." He opened the door, but did not look back. "Good luck, Norcross."

Joshua dropped his head back against the pillows. He was going to need more than luck. He was going to need a damned miracle.