His Jilted Bride (Historical Regency Romance) (24 page)

Mr. Robinson releasing them, however,
changed everything. He'd planned to court her this Season. Try to
win back the feelings she'd once had for him. But when Mr. Robinson
approached them with the task of finding the two gentlemen who were
leading up a private sex slave operation, Henry couldn't be
stopped. And neither could Elijah. Just as Henry had boarded that
steam packet from Dublin that cold night, Elijah couldn't fathom
letting Henry do this alone. They were brothers. Twins. They worked
better together, and after extracting a promise from Henry that
this would be the last time, they went to see Mr. Robinson for the
details.

It should be simple
enough. Two gentlemen were taking young girls from England and
transporting them to the conti— Elijah felt the muscles in his face
fall. Two
gentlemen
. “He's not talking about a literal church.”

“
Pardon?”

“
When Mr. Robinson came to us about taking this mission, he
said
gentlemen
,
not just men.”

Henry frowned. “That could be any
lord, his brother, son or cousin.”

“
Specifically, if he's a vicar or a bishop.”

“
Or the archbishop,” Henry added.

“
That's not possible.”

Henry crossed his arms. “He might be a
Man of God, but that doesn't mean he isn't capable of being a
criminal.”

“
I know that. Remember Lochlan Campbell who was poisoning
members of his own kirk with the communion wine?” Elijah shook off
the thought. “What I meant was that the archbishop couldn't have
been in Brighton that night because he married me and Amelia the
next night at Templemore's estate.”

“
He could have ridden there overnight.”

“
Would you ride your horse that far at night?”

“
I might if I was on the run,” Henry argued. “Besides, nobody
said he rode there on his own horse. He could have taken a
carriage.”

“
But he wouldn't have done that. Not if he wanted to help
release his friend.”

Henry crossed his arms. “Nobody said
your hostage had an accomplice to help him escape.”

“
They didn't have to. The bloody constable was shot in the
head and his keys were stuck in the cell's lock.”

“
Didn't you read the report? There was also a trail of blood
from the fellow's cell to the chair the constable was found in. The
constable very well could have been close enough to the cell for
the criminal to have reached through the bars, grabbed his gun,
shot him, then taken his keys and unlocked his own
cell.”

“
But then why was he in a chair?”

“
To make it look like someone else had been there to help,”
Henry said with a shrug.

“
But why?”

“
I don't know, so we'd look for who murdered the
constable?”

Elijah shook his head. Sometimes
Henry's logic was just too much. “I see what you're suggesting, but
why would that benefit him if we're searching for them both
already?”

“
Because we have to actually catch them in the act of
transporting those girls in order to try them. If there's
reasonable proof of murder, however, that's all that's needed to
send them to the gallows.”

“
So you think he framed his friend?” Elijah said
flatly.

Henry nodded. “He was probably unhappy
that his partner had abandoned him.”

“
Well, that still doesn't tell us anything useful to
discovering his identity.”

“
You could have had one of their identities had you not beaten
him so badly.”

Scowling, Elijah said, “He left me no
choice. When a masked man comes at you firing his gun, instinct
replaces logic and asking his name and making his acquaintance is
the last thing that seems to matter.”

“
Yes, but you didn't have to leave him bloody, swollen, and
unrecognizable,” Henry teased.

“
And how would I have known who he was by looking at him? It
wasn't until five minutes ago when I realized he was likely to be a
gentleman that I thought there might be a chance that I've met him
before. Prior to that, he was just another nameless criminal who
needed to find the justice he deserved.”

“
Very well. What shall we do now?”

“
I don't care what you plan to do—” Elijah took to his feet,
the sun was sinking lower in the sky— “I plan to do exactly what
you told me to do when you barged in, I plan to go find my
wife.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Amelia awoke to the sound of a
creaking door. Slowly she sat up, then frowned. Where was Elijah?
Gripping one of the bed posts, Amelia stood and walked to the
bedchamber door. She'd left it slightly ajar so she could hear him
when he came in, but she'd still wanted to block out the sunshine
that now flooded the living room because of Mr. Henry Hirsute's new
spot under the open window.

She opened the door a bit more and
poked her head out. “Philip?”

Her brother who'd been holding a piece
of parchment abruptly put it down and smiled at her. “Amelia, it's
good to see you.” He lifted one of his eyebrows. Last time she'd
seen him his face had still been bruised and cut, but it looked
almost back to normal now. “Won't you come out here and greet your
brother properly.”

Amelia flushed. She'd taken off her
morning gown and stockings and had taken a nap in only her shift.
“I'd rather not. But next time, I will.”

“
Ah, the blushing bride,” he said, fisting his hands at his
sides. “Say, is your husband in there with you?”

“
No, he's right here,” Elijah said, swinging open the front
door.

“
Mr. Banks, so nice to see you here.”

“
Is it?”

“
Of course. You are my sister's husband, after
all.”

Elijah grunted. “Is there a reason
you're here?”

Philip licked his lips. “Actually
there is. I've come to see that Amelia's wardrobe was
delivered.”

“
It wasn't.” Elijah crossed his arms and cocked his head to
the side. “I find it a little strange that
you'd
come all the way here to see
after a lady's wardrobe.”

“
Yes, well, she is my sister.”

The two men exchanged looks. “Why are
you really here, Philip?” Elijah's voice was as hard as his face
appeared.

“
I need a favor.”

“
From Amelia?” Elijah asked.

Philip nodded.

“
No.”

“
Elijah,” she hissed. It wasn't that she had any great desire
to do a favor for her brother, but she didn't like him speaking for
her. “Philip, my answer is no.”

“
Why not?” Philip demanded of her, ignoring Elijah's presence
altogether.

Amelia turned her head down a little,
lifted her eyebrows, gritted her teeth and then shook her head, as
if to communicate to him the disaster that had happened the last
time she did a favor for him.

“
Oh, it wasn't so bad,” Philip goaded. He gave his head a
small nod in Elijah's direction. “It seems it worked out quite
nicely.”

Amelia didn't dare chance a look at
Elijah. No matter. He probably resembled a statue with a clamped
jaw and cold, unreadable eyes. “The answer is no.”

“
Amel—”

“
She said no,” Elijah said in an icy tone.

Philip pressed his lips together,
color growing in his cheeks. “Very well, then.” Without another
word, he stalked out of the cabin.

“
Did you and my brother have a quarrel,” Amelia
asked.

Elijah snapped his head around. “Not a
genuine quarrel, more of a disagreement.”

“
About?”

“
You.”

Amelia sucked in a sharp breath.
“Me?”

He nodded once. “I...er...” He twisted
his lips and raked his hand through his hair. “I can't explain
it.”

She opened the door to the bedchamber,
heedless to her state of undress. “Sure you can,” she said softly.
What could Elijah and Philip possibly have disagreed about
concerning her?

“
No. I probably shouldn't.” His voice was thick.

“
Shouldn't? So then you can, you just don't want
to.”

“
You are correct.”

She crossed her arms. “Why
not?”

Elijah swallowed visibly, an action
she hadn't seen from him in a long time. “Because he didn't want me
to marry you.”

***

Elijah realized his mistake as soon as
he'd said it. But he just didn't care. Seeing her thus: in nothing
but her transparent chemise with her arms folded under her full
breasts in a way that pushed them up so far they half spilled over
the lacy top of her garment sent all the blood that should be in
his head straight to his groin, his pretense of being a marble
statue gone. He wasn't one and he was no good at portraying one,
besides. Nor did he want to be one with her. He might not want to
let on to how vulnerable he was to her, but erecting a shield only
made things worse.

“
You wanted to marry me?”

Elijah nodded.
I didn't want you to marry Lord Friar.
The words resounded over and over in his head,
but he couldn't force himself to say them, even if they would keep
her inquiries quiet. Instead, he took a step toward her, then a
second, and a third.

“
Why?”

Because I didn't want you
to marry Lord Friar.
The voice inside his
head yelled louder for him to say those words, to staunch her
questions and perhaps spare his own pride and feelings. “So I could
do this.”

Her breath hitched, and he would have
smiled at her if he hadn't just pressed his lips against
hers.

She leaned her head back. “Wh-what are
you doing?”

“
Kissing you,” he murmured, taking her lips in another
kiss.

To his surprise and great relief, she
didn't protest and kissed him back. He lifted his hands to cup her
face, savoring the way her soft lips moved beneath his. Risking
being rejected by her once again, he parted his lips a fraction and
drew her bottom lip in between his. She gasped his name and he
murmured hers, too lost in her lips to want to stop kissing
her.

Suddenly her hands were up on his
shoulders, but she wasn't pushing him away; rather she was
clutching him tightly to her. He gently raked her lip with his
teeth, then soothed it with his tongue, her grip tightening on his
shoulders and her lips parting more. Slowly, so not to startle her,
he pushed his tongue into her mouth. She tasted sweet, like fruit
and cream. He swept across her mouth, exploring her cheeks, tongue
and even her teeth. He brushed his thumb against her cheek, silent
encouragement for her to do the same.

As if she were unsure, she slowly slid
her tongue into his mouth to tangle with his for a moment. His
mouth left hers, trailing openmouthed kisses all the way to her
jawline then behind her ear where he placed a single kiss just
behind her earlobe. She sighed and leaned her head to the side,
granting him full access to the side of her neck, which he gladly
kissed.

Praying she wouldn't freeze up on him
like she had in the past, he moved his hands to the top of her
chemise. Taking her left shoulder strap between his thumb and
forefinger, he eased it closer to the edge of her shoulder,
following its path with his parted lips. He kissed the last inch of
skin at her left shoulder, then repeated the action on the right,
his excitement growing ever stronger as her skin grew warmer and
more flushed with each of his kisses. When he reached the edge, it
took all the self control he possessed to resist the urge he had to
release both straps and let her chemise fall, revealing her fully
to him. But he couldn't do that. Not without permission. Not
without knowing this was what she wanted.

“
Amelia,” he rasped.

“
Yes?” Her grey eyes were wide and her pink lips
swollen.

He swallowed past the gravel in his
throat. “May I?”

***

May I?
Why was it that all of the important questions were so short,
and yet would change their entire lives together? She searched his
blue eyes. They were darker than usual, hooded even; and most
certainly intent. His face looked hard, but not in the same
impassive way he'd looked all of those times when he'd approached
her before. This time his jaw was clamped and that elusive vein on
his forehead that only came out in intense moments of emotion was
protruding a bit. He looked uncertain and vulnerable and most
importantly: interested.