Nellie (The Brides of San Francisco Book 1) (20 page)

“Thank you for standing up for me.”

“You’re my husband. Of course, I’ll stand up for you. You see that’s where we differ. I have faith in you. I believe in you.”

He raised his hand to stop her. “Let’s not get into that again, please. I’ll talk to the investigator tomorrow, and we’ll have our answers.”

Nellie finished getting out of her clothes, and then opened the drawer with her nightgowns. The black negligee stared back at her.
Was now the time?
She reached in and touched the silk confection.
Yes, tonight, before he finds out the truth of my statements. Tonight, to show him how much I love him.

He was in his dressing room now, removing his clothes. She hurried to put on the nightgown and went into the bedroom, dousing all the lamps except the one by his side of the bed, throwing the room into deep shadow. Then she stood in the darkest corner and waited for Blake to come in.

The door to the sitting room opened and Blake entered wearing his robe.

“Nellie?”

She stepped out of the corner. “Blake.”

He looked her way, stopped and looked again. His mouth dropped open.

Sashaying her way across the room, she was gratified to watch his member come to life. She laughed softly, her voice husky and deeper than it normally was. “I take it you like what you see.”

Blake dropped his robe where he was and walked to her.

“Like it? No. I love it. Love that you would take the time to seduce me, when all you need do is look my way and I’m seduced.”

He picked her up in his arms and walked to the bed, setting her gently in the middle. Then he crawled in beside her. He leaned up on one elbow and ran his other hand up and down her arms, up her stomach and rested it on her breasts.

“I think they’re bigger than they were.” He lowered his head and took one turgid nipple into his mouth, suckling her right through the silky, lacy fabric of the gown.

“Ah, Blake.” She held his head to her, arching and silently begging for more. She panted. “They will get bigger as my body does, preparing for the baby.”

“But I get to enjoy them in the mean-time. Then when the hungry little thing gets done, I still get to enjoy them.”

“As often as you like.” She stroked his hair, soothing him and herself alike. “You can even suckle me when I’m nursing. You might like the taste of the milk. It’s sweet. And very good for hungry babies and their fathers.”

He lifted his head and narrowed his gaze. “I’ve enjoyed the lovely night gown, but I’m ready to enjoy
all
of my wife without any barrier, so either you take it off, or I’ll rip it off you.”

With a squeal she scrambled out from under him. “I’ll take it off thank you. I intend to tease you with it again and again. I don’t think you’ll tire of it anytime soon.”

Lying back on the pillows with his arms behind his head, he said, “You minx. Already, you know me so well.”

“I’m learning.” She draped the gown over her vanity stool. “I happen to have a patient teacher.”

He leaned up on his elbow again and patted the bed next to him. “Not that patient. I’m ready for you.”

“Yes.”She cocked an eyebrow as she looked at him. “So I see.”

She didn’t make him wait, but crawled up on the bed and pushed him onto his back.

“Can we do it with me on top?”

“Yes. I think you’ll like it.”

Easing her way up his body, she positioned herself over him, raised up and slid down upon his shaft, seating herself completely. The feeling was incredible. She felt fuller than she ever had and lifted herself up just a bit and then back down. Grinding her pelvis in circles, she did what felt good.

Blake watched her, his eyes dark, steel gray, with what she knew was desire. He liked what she did.

He helped her, pumping up into her as she came down.

“Ahh,” she moaned. “Help me, Blake, I don’t know what to do now.”

Blake reached down and touched her intimately. He rubbed her little love bud, and she leaned back and took him as deep as her body was able. Then she exploded and fell forward onto his chest.

He rolled her over and pumped hard, finding his own release, before collapsing on her, burying his face in her neck. He breathed hard, gulping for air, as did she. Finally, after minutes, or hours, she regained her strength and he rolled off her. They lay there together, spent.

“That was amazing,” said Nellie, still breathless. “I never knew, never thought to try. I never asked to do anything with Robert. All I wanted was for it to be over and the pain to stop. It was so strange. When we weren’t having sex, he was a good and kind man.”

Blake ran a caressing stroke over the length of her hair. “He was never good, nor kind, to treat you like that. You didn’t enjoy the pain, so he never should have given it to you. There are people, men
and
women, who enjoy pain with sex, giving and receiving. But your husband was the kind that only liked to give, and he should never have done that to you. Do you understand that?”

“Yes. I do, now that you’ve shown me that the act of making love is a pleasurable endeavor.” She nested her head on his chest. “I understand that very well.”

“Good, now come here, wife. I want to hold you, while I regain my strength.”

“You are so good to me.”

She giggled.

And he laughed, then the sounds of lovemaking filled the silence.

CHAPTER 14

Blake rose from the bed and left Nellie sleeping. He looked over her soft form and wondered when it happened. Was it the first time he saw her, when he knew he had to marry her and make her his? Was it when she showed her anger and he knew she felt safe with him? Or when she gave herself to him completely, and he knew he’d earned her trust?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was he loved her with all his heart. Now to get the proof she shouldn’t have needed, if only he’d believed her to begin with.

The investigator was coming this morning and he didn’t want Nellie to be there. He had a feeling, after Maddie’s outburst of a few days ago, he knew what the man would say. Dressing quickly, he walked downstairs, just as a loud knock on the door sounded down the hallway.

“I’ve got it James,” he said to the butler, who rounded the corner to answer the door.

Standing on the stoop was a small man with graying hair, a mustache and wire-rimmed spectacles.

“Come in, Mr. Formby. Follow me to the library where we can talk.”

The two men walked down the hall, neither one saying a word.

Blake opened the door, and then closed it behind Mr. Formby.

“Please have a seat.”

He indicated the chair in front of the desk. Blake sat behind the desk and folded his hands on the top.

“What did you discover?”

Mr. Formby took a small notebook from his jacket pocket. “Well, Mr. Malone, there was indeed a Mr. Spence that was killed, knifed actually, by his ward, a Miss Madeline Rhoue. The jury found Miss Rhoue was protecting herself from attack at the time and the judge declined to put a fifteen-year-old girl in jail.

“After that Miss Rhoue went to work in a brothel owned by Mr. Samuel Singer. Two years later, Mr. Singer married Miss Rhoue and they ran the brothel together, until the time of Mr. Singer’s death by gunshot approximately four years after they married. Mrs. Singer, then twenty-one, was suspected but never charged. To this day, no one has been charged with his murder.”

“When was that?” asked Blake.
Maddie was married and may have shot her husband. Nellie was right. I didn’t know her.

“Seven years ago. Six months before Miss Singer, showed up in San Francisco and subsequently went to work for you.”

“Damn. Nellie was right.” He slammed his fists on the desk.
How could I have been so stupid?

“I was right about what?” asked Nellie, shutting the door to the library softly behind her.

Both men rose from their chairs, and Blake went to her, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then guided her into the room with a hand at her waist.

“You were right about Maddie. Mr. Formby, my wife, Nellie Malone.”

“Mrs. Malone,” said Mr. Formby as he doffed his hat.

“Please sit, both of you.”

Blake went around the desk and sat in his chair.

Nellie sat in the chair next to Mr. Formby.

Mr. Formby sat back down. “You asked me to look into Miss Singer’s background, and I did. There is something that you should know as well. From all accounts Miss Rhoue was sold to Mr. Spence by her father for the sum of one hundred dollars, when she was fourteen. She lived with Mr. Spence for approximately four months before she stabbed him to death with a kitchen knife.” He looked over at Nellie. “Forgive me, Mrs. Malone, it’s very graphic stuff, and you may not want to stay to hear it.”

“Not at all, Mr. Formby. I insist I stay. I must know what I’m facing. I believe that Miss…er…Mrs. Singer is dangerous to me and my family.” Her lips pressed into a straight line before she asked, “Do you disagree, Mr. Formby?”

“No ma’am, I do not. I believe Miss Singer is a murderess and if you’ve crossed her in some way, you should be on your guard.”

“From the sound of it, Blake may be in more danger than I am.” She gestured toward her husband. “She seems to only kill men,”

Blake shook his head. “I’m not in danger yet. She still thinks it’s possible to have me fall in love with her if she gets rid of you.”

“You might be safer if you don’t disabuse her if that idea,” said Nellie. “At least for the time being.”

“And let her think I would ever go back to her? Or that I would leave you in danger? Never.” His fist hit the desk. “You mean too much to me.”

“I do?”

“Of course, you do. Why would you think otherwise? You carry my child.”

He watched her expression go from hopeful to disappointed and knew his words were the cause. But the situation couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t sure why, but he was afraid if she knew he loved her, she’d be that much more vulnerable. He’d never convince Maddie he didn’t love Nellie, if he couldn’t convince Nellie first.

“Mr. Formby, you were saying, no one was ever arrested and charged with Mr. Singer’s death, please continue,” said Nellie, keeping her gaze on the investigator.

“That is correct. After his death, Mrs. Singer sold the business and came to San Francisco. The murder was never solved. Mrs. Singer was a suspect because she and the deceased had a row two days prior to his death about selling the business and moving on. Mrs. Singer wanted to do so, and Mr. Singer did not according to a Miss…um…” He consulted his notebook. “Ah, yes, a Miss Trixie McGuire.”

Nellie gasped and stared at Blake. “Is that your Trixie?”

Blake nodded then fell back in his chair.

“Did you know they were friends?” asked Nellie.

“No. I mean, they are now, but I didn’t know they knew each other from before.” He ran his hands through his hair and let out a deep breath. “This situation is becoming more complicated by the moment.”

“Just so, Mr. Malone.” Mr. Formby flipped a page in his notepad. “Miss McGuire was the one who told the authorities about the fight, but she was also Mrs. Singer’s alibi. She said they were together at the time of the murder.”

Nellie stood and walked around the desk to Blake. She went behind his chair and put her hands on his shoulders, massaging them.

He didn’t understand his wife. He’d just hurt her with his words, and yet she was beside him, offering him the comfort of her touch. And he relished it. He reached up and placed his hand over one of hers. Just the feel of her skin eased him. Calmed him. He’d never had anyone give to him so willingly. So completely.

“Do you think Trixie is part of it? The murder, I mean,” asked Nellie.

“I don’t know.”
How could I have been so wrong about Maddie and Trixie? What about the other girls? Are there murderers among them, too?
“It seems likely, though I don’t know if she is involved in wanting to hurt you. They work opposite schedules, so rarely spend time together.”

“So, you do believe that Maddie wants to hurt me?”

“Yes. I do. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll apologize more personally when we’re alone.”

She squeezed his hand back.

“Well, sir, you have my report. Is there anything else you would like me to do for you?”

Blake stood, came around the desk, and held his hand out to Mr. Formby. “Not at this time, sir, but thank you for your information. It’s proved to be quite invaluable.”

Mr. Formby took Blake’s hand and shook it. “If I can assist you in the future, it would be my pleasure to aid you.”

“Thank you. I’ll show you out.”

“No need, sir. I can find my own way.”

Blake walked the little man to the door. He was sick to his stomach with guilt and regret over his treatment of Nellie. When he turned around, he said “Nellie, I’m so sorry. You could have been killed and it would have been my fault. Can you forgive me?”

She came to him and put her arms around him. “Of course. I won’t even say I told you so. Perhaps you can trust me now.”