The Fighter and the Fallen Woman (14 page)

“That’ll be Mr. Adams,” Nessie said, as expressionless as if she would have said
Here’s your tea.

Lady nodded, hating to have them end the discussion like this but knowing they had to. Regardless of either of their feelings toward Mr. Adams, he did pull the strings.

“I’ll try.” Lady said the only thing she could as Nessie started to leave to answer the door. Lady felt like she’d smoothed over that molehill but she still faced a mountain before her. As Nessie went to admit Mr. Adams, Lady closed her eyes and took three deep breaths, each one filling her with a quiet calm, a haughty seduction and a person who didn’t fit as well as she had yesterday.

“Won’t you wait in the parlor, Mr. Adams? I’ll get Lady for you.” Nessie’s voice carried upstairs and Lady opened her eyes, ready to play this game. She waited until Nessie came upstairs and met Lady with a wink. “Mr. Adams to see you, Lady,” Nessie loudly announced from the doorway and she was smiling like a mama who’d matched her only daughter to a landed baron. “I’ll make some tea.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Nesbitt. I’ll be right down.”

Lady descended the stairs, her mind whirling like a child’s toy. King, Mr. Adams, Nessie—suddenly the relationships in her life had become complicated and confusing. For the first time in a long time, she had no idea what was going to happen next and it truly scared her. Beauty could always be taken away. With a house full of prostitutes at his disposal and probably half the women of the East End as well, would King be so interested if she were scarred or maimed?

She chased the dismal thought away and put a small smile on her face as she entered the parlor and gave a small curtsy. “Mr. Adams, how lovely to see you. I trust your day is pleasant?”

“Look at you,” he said in a reverent voice. “You could be in Buckingham Palace and nobody would know different.” He rose from his place on the sofa and walked toward her. The only things keeping Lady in her place were the look of joyous wonder on his face and that his hands were not clasped into fists. “You have the face of an angel and the manners of a duchess. I should be so lucky if you were to run the Red Door. Men would come just to be in your presence, hope to kiss your hand. You would double my business in a month’s time.” He circled her slowly and Lady felt panic grip her tightly. He’d brought up the idea of her stepping into Mrs. Henderson’s position again, and that meant the noose was getting tighter. “I’m afraid I can’t give you the respectability you need, but you now have something those toffs at Buckingham value just as much.” He reached up and clipped something on her ears, something heavy from the feel of it. He slowly circled her and from behind her, he ran his hand down the back of her arm, lifting it and sliding a diamond and sapphire bracelet on it. “Jewels,” he whispered against her neck and slid something else onto her finger.

Lady walked to the mirror and drew in her breath. Two sapphires, each as large as a walnut, hung from her ears in a circle of diamonds, the clips at her ears anchored by diamonds half as big. She looked down at the matching bracelet on her wrist, and a ring holding a matching sapphire circled by diamonds on her finger. As she was concentrating on breathing with the richness of the jewels winking at her, Mr. Adams came up behind her and looked at her reflection over her shoulder. “Perfect. I knew they’d match your eyes.”

Lady looked at the security on her wrist and her hand. Women were beaten every day but few were given a king’s ransom in jewels to ease the pain. This might be her happily-ever-after.

“Come over here, pet.” He returned to the sofa and patted the seat beside him. “I need to talk to you.”

She crossed the room, putting an extra little sway to her hips. Mr. Adams seemed to be in a good mood and she didn’t want that to change. He also seemed especially devoted, and she might be able to use that to her advantage. If nothing else, it would keep him from noticing what felt like her obvious confusion.

“Yes, Mr. Adams?” she cooed, sitting beside him and barely resting her fingertips on his knee. Respectable and naughty all at once.

He playfully snapped his teeth at her like a dog and Lady smiled. Her numbness was finally wearing off and it was coming back to her how to do this. When Mr. Adams was generous and playful, it made her cage seem comfortable and secure rather than restricting and confining. Perhaps if King hadn’t been involved, Mr. Adams wouldn’t have been so jealous as to do what he did. Would there have been the one without the other?

He picked up her hand and pressed a wet kiss to it. “Ah, pet, as much as I’d love to stay here and see how you look in those jewels and nothing else, I have business. But I also have business for you too, if it’s all right.”

“Of course, Mr. Adams. Anything I can do to help.”

“I need you to go take a look at King. I heard what you said at the fight yesterday and I’m not going to argue that he’s a crude, smelly thing—especially to a delicate woman such as you,” he added with his version of a charming smile, “but he was awfully banged up yesterday. Your nursing skills have been helping him thus far, and saving me a fair bit in doctor’s fees too, so a few more days is all I ask. If I can trust anybody to protect my investment, it’s you, isn’t it, pet?”

“You know me too well,” she answered and lowered her eyes.

He stood suddenly, pulling Lady with him in an almost violent gesture. She felt a flare of panic and then realized he was being exuberant. Mr. Adams had long ago given up on aping his betters and proclaimed his version of chivalry good enough. This was simply his way of helping her to her feet.

He gripped her hips and pulled her against him, snapping his teeth at her again but this time making the gesture a little slower. She slowly lowered her head, cupping his face in her hands, and thought of brown and gold eyes as she let him kiss her.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night. Mrs. Nesbitt can prepare us supper and we’ll see if you can earn the matching necklace, a lovely little piece that makes your earrings look like a doll’s set.”

“I’ll tell her to serve something for stamina.” Lady playfully snarled at him and nipped at his ear. Yes, she was remembering how to do this.

Mr. Adams looked at her, his eyebrows raised. He started to chuckle, then wagged his finger at her and chuckled some more. He released her, blew her a kiss and left. Lady waited until she heard his carriage leave before sitting on the couch and laying her head against its back, closing her eyes. She pulled off the earrings, bracelet and ring and let them fall on the cushions. What was she supposed to do?

“You got flowers,” Nessie said from the doorway.

“Put them in the entry. Mr. Adams will be back tomorrow night and he’ll expect to see them.”

“They’re not from Mr. Adams.”

King.
Lady sat up quickly, opening her eyes to see what the foolish man had sent her.

It was a large bouquet of lilies, primroses and lavender, the size and colors overwhelming Nessie’s tiny frame. Lady was standing up to pull them into her arms when she saw the bow holding the flowers together.

It was the lace tie from her dress last night. The flowers were from Jonathan.

“Burn them, and find a dress to match those for tomorrow night.” She pointed at the jewels lying discarded on the couch, ignoring Nessie’s gasp. She grabbed a cloak and her purse. “I have to go see King.”

Chapter Fifteen

Lady walked to King’s, the distance passing in the loud, rapid beat of her footsteps. The only thing she had wanted to do in the past twenty-four hours was curl up and be alone. Mr. Adams, King, Jonathan, even Mrs. Nesbitt—she needed some time to sort out her thoughts, but whenever she thought she reached that haven, somebody did something to confuse her even further.

What did King think he was doing, trying to fill her head with dreams of happy endings? He was certainly in no place to offer one and it was impossible anyway. All he was doing was making things worse.

By the time Lady spotted King’s door, she was angrier than she had been in years, and it was all because of one man. Without King and his damned fairy tale, she wouldn’t be in this position. She’d be like she was before—a few harmless fantasies to make the nights not quite so dark, but overall blissfully uncaring and content with her lot.

She pounded on the door and was raising her hand to bang on it again when King opened it, his chest bare save the bandage immobilizing his upper arm against his side. Seeing the reason for her fury, the bastard who had the gall to question her life when he was living in the same dark hole, brought all of her rage to the surface. Without stopping her motion, she balled up her fist and punched him just below his right shoulder. Only a last-second warning from deep inside kept her from hitting the mouth he’d used to spout his fairy tales from. She might be furious, but she wasn’t stupid.

“What the hell was that for?” he yelled, his bound arm keeping him from touching the spot she’d hit, though she could tell he was trying. He threw the door open all the way and took a menacing step toward her. Somewhere deep, Lady knew she should be afraid, was afraid, but she was also tired of being the one on the receiving end. Let somebody else feel some pain for once.

“That was for last night,” she shouted back, taking a step forward so she was only an inch or two away from him. “For your little drama of
what do you want
and
you can have a happy ending
and messing with my perfectly good life!” She raised her hand to hit him again, but King grabbed her wrist.

“If your life was so good, why did you come to me after Mr. Adams raped you?” His voice echoed back into his rooms and out into the street. Lady gasped, the noise filling her ears as his shout died out.

“How dare you?” she hissed, jerking her wrist out of his grasp and taking a step forward, forcing him a step back. “You know nothing about me or what I want, why I do what I do.” She took another step forward, stabbing a finger at him but not touching him. “For all you know, Mr. Adams asked me to come here to discover where your loyalties lie. For all you know, I came here to seduce you so I’d have an ace in my pocket.” She leaned in so close that she could have pressed her lips forward and kissed him, and added in a low voice, “Or make that a King in my skirts.”

King shut the door behind her, his eyes locked on hers, and Lady was waiting for his anger to come back. She wanted this fight, desperately needed this fight, and now that she was hitting as low as he had, he started to look at her with sadness and pity. The lava coursing from her rage started to cool and crack.

“I saw the bruises,” he said in a soft voice and tears stung her eyes.

“No.” She shoved his chest hard, throwing him back a step. Lady advanced and reached out to do it again, but he placed his free hand over hers and held her immobile, saying, “I saw the cuts.”

“No,” she said again, much weaker this time, struggling to pull away while tears coursed down her face.

“I saw the blood,” he whispered and pulled her against him, his body protecting her from the outside but unable to help what she was feeling inside.

Lady balanced on the precipice, hovering between completely breaking down and choking it back to where the rest of her emotions lived. King’s arms, even with the one injured, were comforting, but they also felt like another cage. A strong, supportive cage, but a cage regardless.

With a burst of anger, she jerked out of King’s embrace and shouted, “No, you saw nothing! You only saw what I wanted you to see, don’t you understand? You saw nothing.”

King took a big step forward and wrapped Lady in his good arm. She started to struggle, beating her arms against his injured shoulder, but he wouldn’t let go.

“I’m not the one you’re fighting,” he said, a few inadvertent grunts the only signs of his pain. “You can scream at me, hit me, curse me to hell and back, but I won’t let you destroy yourself this way.”

Lady felt the anger start to drain out of her and let her hands fall to her sides. She honestly didn’t know if she was mad at King or not anymore, but something was radically different than it had been only a day or so ago.

King shifted so his embrace became one of softness rather than strength. He was murmuring and she couldn’t tell what he was saying but it soothed her. She wrapped one arm around him and lifted the other so her hand lay on the one spot of his bare chest not covered by the bandage. She felt his heartbeat against her palm, heard it in her ear. She took a deep breath and let it out, and beneath her hand, she felt his heart speed up.

She lifted her head, his hand holding the back of it, and looked him in the eye. Years of practice taught her how to recognize desire in a man, but there was something else in his eyes, on his face, that she didn’t know. If it was Nessie, she would have said it was tenderness, but there was no possibility this scarred, cold fighter harbored that emotion, regardless of what he’d said or done before.

He started to lower his head and it was slow enough Lady knew they both had the opportunity to say no or move away. As he came closer and her eyes lowered, she felt their first kiss like a memory. Would this one taste like life too?

The first touch of his lips was brief, yet it brought memory to life. A slow warmth flowed through her, easing the confusion and the fear and the anger. She opened her eyes and looked at him from inches away, finally acknowledging to herself just how hard she’d fallen for this man. This time, she was the one who started to lean forward to meet him, letting her eyes drift shut and going back to that warm place inside.

He kissed her, his lips sweetly claiming hers. He roamed from one side of her mouth to the other, lowering his arm to wrap around her waist. Yet through it all, he never used his tongue or kissed her deeply. She’d never been softly and sweetly kissed before, kissed by a man who made her knees weak by how gentle he was. It was a new experience for her, and she adored him for it.

Her lips, her jaw, her throat—they all were kissed, treasured. She twined her arms around his neck and held him close as they kissed. His bound hand could only cup her hip, but he lifted the other to hold her face, tip her head so he could kiss her earlobe and the sensitive spot behind it. When he pressed his lips there, his breath coming in a small gust, she started to feel something she had never experienced before.

Passion.

It started with a flutter in her chest, like she had swallowed a dozen butterflies, and then moved into her stomach. Lower. She felt heat and a swelling need for something else. She brushed her hips against his and felt his ridge of desire. For the first time ever, it felt right.

Dear God, maybe she wasn’t broken after all. The thought made her pull away and smile at him, full of thoughts about the best way and time to continue this. He smiled back—a smile of joy and possibility and the exquisite thoughts of what could happen next, and it was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen. She leaned in to kiss him again, but before she could touch him, a soft knock sounded and they both froze.