Chapter 4

4

As the doorshut behind Lord Richard, Jane threw an angry glare at her brother, her heart drumming so hard, it may break her ribs. Thorne walked to his chair, sat down, and leaned back, an infuriating smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he regarded her with cool satisfaction.

“Congratulations, sister,” Thorne said. “You’re engaged.”

She shook her head, struggling to contain her quick breath that felt like it was running away from her. She’d never been this furious with anyone in her whole life.

“You have strange notions about me, brother. As though I’m supposed to be happy about a marriage at all.”

Thorne’s eyebrows knitted together, the smugness slipping from his face to reveal a flicker of concern, an expression she hadn’t seen on him in days.

“Jane—”

Ignoring Thorne’s protest, she rushed through the door, her eyes scanning the dim corridor for Lord Richard’s figure.

The heat of her anger propelled her forward. Not only had that rake disturbed the first day of class at the school she had worked for months to start…he’d disrupted her whole life!

Two weeks…

Thorne helped her with the school, but that man never would. No noble lady of the ton—no duke’s sister-in-law!—was supposed to work, not to mention do so among criminals and their children.

A woman was her husband’s property. She couldn’t bear the thought of belonging to someone, her dreams and aspirations lost in the shadow of a man who would control her every move. What member of the ton would want his wife to teach and run a school in Whitechapel?

No. If she married Lord Richard, that would be the end of her dream. The only thing that made her feel like she truly mattered.

She’d just gotten a grasp on her future, only to have it so violently torn out from under her palms. She couldn’t stop the tremor in her hands.

Rushing through the shadowy, labyrinthine corridor, she vowed not to let Lord Richard Seaton ruin her future by marrying her.

In a few moments, she saw his broad-shouldered figure ahead and hurried after him. With a quick glance behind her, she grabbed him by the sleeve of his waistcoat—Lord, what firm, powerful muscles she felt under the fabric—and pulled him into a dark alcove just beyond the gas lamps and out of sight of anyone passing by.

He towered over her. With no space in the tight alcove, they were squished together, and Jane realized her mistake right away. He was so large she couldn’t move without touching his hard body, which smelled oh so good. The sharp tang of whisky, his cologne, something fresh like a moonlit forest, and peppery and sweet like sandalwood.

Footsteps sounded behind them, louder and louder.

Richard opened his broad, handsome mouth to say something, but she pressed her fingers against his lips. She could feel the slight, sharp stubble covering his silky skin, the surprisingly soft, full lips, the heat of his breath rushing out of his nose.

An exhilarating rush of tingles avalanched through her. She was touching a strange man’s mouth!

A dark shadow passed by them—black waistcoat, dark, windswept hair, the unmistakable broad shoulders and narrow waist of her brother’s tall figure. His steps receded into the distance until he went through a door.

And then…

Dangerously, scandalously, Jane was alone with the rake.

As her gaze locked with Lord Richard’s blue eyes, she could hear her own breath rushing in and out, her pulse drumming in her ears so loud she couldn’t hear her own thoughts. Her nipples puckered and tensed, aching. She felt like she’d drunk a bottle of wine, light-headed, her feet barely able to feel the ground.

“Lord Richard,” she whispered, her voice strangely hoarse. “Do you want to be married to me?”

The corners of his eyes wrinkled as a smile touched his face. “I do not know how to answer this question without offending you, Miss Grant.”

She scoffed. “Please, Lord Richard. Do not pretend a man like you is concerned with a woman’s honor.”

His eyes narrowed, and if she didn’t know better, she would imagine a slight expression of hurt crossed them. She sighed. “Let’s just drop the pleasantries. Our futures are on the line. Please, be truthful.”

“I am not sure that I can, Miss Grant.” Those lips, saying those words, each one like a caress against her skin…

She needed to shake off this stupor, this strange spell his presence had on her. “All right, if you will not speak the truth, then I will,” she said, her throat suddenly dry. “I do not want to be married to you.”

When his smile died and something dangerous crossed his handsome face, she shook her head. “Please. As though you’re so eager to wed. Wouldn’t a wife mean you must stop drinking and frequenting certain establishments not to be named in polite society?”

She should not have said this. She should not be alone with him, his chest touching her breasts, his scent so delicious she wondered if his skin would taste as good on her tongue as he smelled. She didn’t drink much at all, not even at dinners with Thorne, but she knew that feeling of intoxication she’d had a few times in the past from a glass of port, of weakness and of warmth—of freedom.

What he did to her was similar. Stronger. So much more delicious. Part of her, somewhere deep down between her legs, burned and ached.

“Do not mind me,” he said, his voice slow and velvety, his breath warm. “It is all about your comeback into society, is it not? That is what your brother wants for you. For you to sit among proper ladies of the ton and judge the movements of other people—searching for signs of weakness, of impropriety—and condemning them for the slightest mistake.”

Is that who he thought she was? He had no idea the very same society that had raised her had cruelly rejected her after Papa had died.

She needed to leave his dangerous proximity before that slow heat burning at the apex of her thighs consumed her whole. “You’re quite mistaken. I do not wish to return to society. My wishes lie elsewhere. Did my brother say anything else to you regarding this arrangement?”

His gaze slowly moved over her face and then down her neck and her bosom, causing a very noticeable onrush of heat up her chest and neck. “No,” he said. “Only what he told us both. I must publicly court you. The moment we’re wed, he will give me what I want. Information.”

That was the piece she didn’t know. “What information?”

“Your brother knows what happened to my oldest brother, Spencer. Last September, we thought he had been beaten to death by your brother’s men, and we buried him. Recently, we came to learn it wasn’t his body that was buried, and we hope he’s still alive. We hope to find him and retrieve him. Your brother promised to tell me about that in exchange for, well…marrying you.”

Jane’s skin tingled with shock. Thorne was ruthless, yes. But holding potentially life-saving knowledge hostage and forcing Lord Richard to marry her? She guessed she was quite naive and shielded from what her brother’s true activities were. He had his own moral and ethical code that she didn’t always understand. But she loved her brother. Despite everything that he did, he took care of her, of the people around Whitechapel, and he had helped her build her school without a moment of hesitation. He loved her so much, he had even paid parents to allow their children to go to the school so that she had someone to teach.

Jane’s mind raced, weaving through possibilities and consequences. If she could help Lord Richard without endangering her brother or her future, perhaps they could both escape this unwanted fate.

“Hmm…” She tapped on her lower lip with her finger, and he watched her finger with the fascination of a cat hunting a mouse. “Maybe it doesn’t have to come all the way to marriage.”

“That was what I was hoping.”

“What would you do to Thorne once you have what you seek? Would you pursue him legally?”

Lord Richard let out a long breath and shook his head once. “Someone like your brother needs to be punished for hurting innocent people.”

That killed all Jane’s feelings of attraction towards him. “My brother was excluded from his rightful place because of society’s foolish rules. Whatever wrong he has done he has also done much good. I can’t let you hurt him.”

“But Miss Grant—”

“I’ll help you find out what happened to your brother before two weeks expire,” she said while guilt gnawed at her. She would be acting against her brother’s interests, but he’d acted against hers by arranging this marriage. Besides, by withholding the facts, Thorne was being quite unfair to Lord Richard’s brother, who may be in peril. “And then we can break off the engagement. But you must promise not to hurt Thorne. Not to criminally pursue him. Not to set the Bow Street Runners on him. If I help you find out what fate befell Spencer, can you promise me that?”

Lord Richard’s blue gaze rested on her for a long while. Then he nodded slowly. “I promise I won’t pursue Blackmore. I have no interest in hurting anyone.”

“And please promise me no one will know but the two of us that we’re not truly engaged. I’m afraid it would get back to Thorne. He seems to know everything one way or another.”

“That is clever, Miss Grant. I promise.”

Jane could breathe easier. If only his presence let her think clearly.

“May I suggest,” he said, “that you act as if you are, in truth, in love with me. In front of the ton and especially in front of my family.”

She gasped out a laugh. “Excuse me?”

He chuckled. “I know. It’s odd to talk about it, but I am certain it is very much necessary. We must convince everyone our engagement is real. My family will be a hard nut to crack.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“My sister’s mind is as sharp as a razor. My brother’s trust is as hard to gain as a key to the treasury of the British Empire. And my grandmama is no fool. But together we may be able to outwit them. I’ll do my best to show how taken by you I am. Even though that would be quite a task.”

The words shouldn’t have hurt her at all. She was the one who had asked him to be honest. But it pinched a little. She swallowed hard, but his burning gaze, which slowly took her in, made her shiver all over.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” she said. “I can’t be the only lady you pretend to charm.”

She didn’t like this game at all. Feigning that she felt something she did not…no. That wasn’t like her at all. She’d so much rather spend her time in her school, making sure the pupils got a proper education, ensuring the best future possible for them.

Her first class may have been a disaster, but she was confident she could make a difference there given time, whereas Lord Richard and she were going to play mind games.

But she had to do it to get Thorne off her back, to keep her school running. For the children and their futures.

And it would be for only two weeks.

“All right,” she said. “Let us agree to that. But no touching or kissing. Not in public. Not in private. I am sure you’re too well acquainted with the way ladies are seduced, and I do not intend to be one of your conquests.”

He chuckled. “As you wish,” he said. He took her hand in his and slowly shook it. His touch was warm and dry, and it sent blissful shivers up and down her body.

She tore her hand away from his. “What did I just tell you? No touching.”

A lazy grin stretched his lips. “Oh, Miss Grant. This may be far more pleasant than I ever expected.”