The Secrets of Mia Danvers (27 page)

“Of course. And you are my heart, dear Rachel. Now agree to marry me so I can stop touting my love in such ridiculous ways. I’m beginning to sound like a poet.”

“Well, we mustn’t have that.” He grabbed her and pulled her to him, their legs pressed against the settee that still separated them. “I love you, Edward. I always have.”

“Did you regret turning me down the first time?”

“Instantly, but I still believed I’d done the right thing. As time went on, I was further able to convince myself of my noble sacrifice. But now I see I was a complete fool to walk away from you.”

“Well, I’ll see to it that you never make another noble sacrifice again,” he said.

She paused and pulled away from him a moment. “Oh, what of Mia?”

“Oh, I don’t think Mia’s heart will be broken. She’s only in love with me a little,” he said.

Rachel punched his arm. “Can you ever be serious?”

“Mia will be alright. She is a grown woman and she will survive. And I will pay for her to have another companion if you believe it to be a necessity for her,” he said.

“Yes, I do. She can manage on her own most of the time, but she shouldn’t have to. She would get so lonely. And I would have been lonely without her.”

“Well, I suppose she could come live with us,” he offered.

“Truly?” She kissed him then, full of love, full of passion and full of hope. “I have much work to make you a civilized husband, but that generous offer is an excellent beginning.”

He lifted her off her feet and pressed her down onto the settee. “Before you civilize me, allow me to scandalize you once more.”

***

Juliet had left Alex’s side in the lobby of the opera house while she had gone to the water closet. When she had not returned twenty minutes later, he had gone to look for her when a servant stopped him. Alex looked at the footman. “So she has already gone home?” he asked.

“Yes,” the footman said with a nod. “Miss Beckinsale said she was not feeling well and that she was going home.” He smiled. “She said to thank you for a lovely evening.”

Alex watched the servant walk away and disappear into the back of the theatre. Alex walked through the lobby and out the doors to the street. A line of carriages sat waiting for patrons who stood around conversing. Alex looked for the Beckinsale carriage, but found no sign of it.

He would send over a note in the morning, checking on her welfare. But for now he would go home. Go home to Mia.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Ripper had her right where he wanted her. The lovely Juliet Beckinsale. He turned the key and locked her chaperone in the WC. He’d knocked the woman on the head, merely to make her unconscious, there was no need to waste his time and dirty his hands killing her. When she came to, she’d realize she’d lost her charge.

It took nothing more than a handful of pounds offered to a footman to give Lord Carrington wrong information. Another handful to inform Miss Beckinsale that her carriage was waiting around the corner.

The same footman came now to Jack. They exchanged a few words and then he was left alone. He made a show of being frustrated as he walked closer to Miss Beckinsale.

“Never heard of such a thing. The theatre telling me where I can park my carriage,” he muttered as he passed her.

She stepped toward him. “Pardon me, my lord. Did I hear you say something about them moving your carriage, too? I must admit I’m rather befuddled by the entire situation.”

“It is most frustrating, is it not?” he asked.

She eyed the carriages waiting on the street in front of them and nodded.

He started to walk away, then paused. “I could escort you around the corner to where they said the carriages were taken.”

She paused a moment as if considering, then she smiled warmly. “Thank you, my lord, that is most kind of you.”

It was really too easy. The Ripper held his arm out to her and she gladly accepted.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ever since Mia had shown up in his box, Alex had wanted to drag her into his arms and ensure himself that she was safe. He’d stormed up the stairs and entered her room with no regard for the fact that she might be sleeping. She wasn’t. She sat in a chair near the window, a single candle burned next to her, though clearly just for the maid’s benefit.

“Who’s there?” she asked with a start. She came to her feet.

“It’s me, Mia, don’t be alarmed,” he said.

“Alex,” she breathed his name with such relief he felt guilty for not leaving sooner. To hell with his responsibilities to properly court his betrothed.

He closed the distance between them in what seemed like two steps and pulled her straight into his arms. She clung to him tightly and he breathed in the earthy scent of her. A silent conversation seemed to pass between them, one where he inquired about her well-being and told her he’d been afraid for her, and where she said she was relieved he was home and she was in his arms, yet they spoke no such words. His hand cupped her cheek and she leaned into that touch, relishing the feel of his strong palm against her face.

She had already changed out of her dress and her hair was once again in a long plait down her back. The only thing she wore at the moment was a night rail, a thin and blessedly sheer concoction that left nothing to his imagination. He could easily see her pert breasts, the dark rose color of her areolas and the dark triangle of hair between her legs. God, she was beautiful. He grew heavy with want for her.

She reached up, placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him down to her for a kiss. A kiss full of tenderness and promise and things Alex dared not speak of, let alone consider. Soon he would be married to another woman, but tonight he could have Mia one last time. And he knew it would indeed be their last time together.

Yes, he could take her as his mistress, but he knew he’d never have his fill of her and what kind of life would that be for Juliet? Or Mia. He had to consider them and not simply his own desires.

His mother had been miserable her entire life because of a child his father had sired outside of their marriage. He would not do that to the woman he was going to marry or this woman before him who had come to mean so much to him in such a short amount of time. Life had not been kind to her and he didn’t want to contribute to that.

She kissed him back with an intensity that stole his breath. Her hands clasped onto his jacket and shoved it off his shoulders, then began working on his shirt.

“I need to touch you,” she said against his mouth.

It was all the encouragement he needed. He moved her hands out of the way and quickly shrugged out of his clothes. Once he’d removed everything he stepped close to her again and she took no time to put her hands on him. Her soft fingers traced the muscles along his torso. Sweet torture.

He bent in front of her and placed his mouth on one of her breasts. He covered her through the filmy fabric, licking and kissing. She gasped, tossed her head back. Her fingers, both hands, dug into his hair, holding his head to her breast. Her passion astounded him, so in touch with her own feelings she was. Most women were not so earthy, so raw in their expression, and he was like a drunkard drinking her in.

He laved her with more kisses, leaving one breast and moving to the next, then trailing down her stomach to her navel. He gripped her bottom, holding her to him. Then he put his mouth on her center, breathed in the musky scent that only fueled his desire. His tongue flicked over her, across the fabric, and he knew he drove her to near madness.

Her knees buckled as his ministrations continued. He didn’t miss a beat, though, he carefully picked her up and carried her over to the bed. No sooner had he laid her down than he returned to her body. More kisses, more touches, more moans of pleasure until they both lay on the bed satiated and breathing heavily.

“Alex,” Mia said softly in the darkness. She had been quiet for so long he’d thought she’d fallen asleep.

“Mmmm,” he murmured.

“We could have an arrangement.” She rolled over onto her side, propped herself up on her elbow. Her long braid hung over her waist, the tail of it dangled across her flat stomach. She looked every inch the seductress. “The two of us,” she continued, “we could have a relationship. If that is what you desire,” her voice was tentative, as if she wasn’t so certain of what she proposed.

“Mia, what are you suggesting?” he managed to ask. He knew what she’d say, and he shouldn’t make her voice the words, but he hoped he was wrong, knowing her offer would be damned difficult to turn down.

“I could be your mistress. I know plenty of men have them and if you were considering taking one, I figured I could offer to be her, as it were,” she said. She bit down on her lip as her eyes shuttered closed.

There, she’d said it aloud. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d had every intention to ask her that very thing. And then everything had changed when that newspaper article had hit London. Back when she was a secret, he’d considered making her his. But now that everyone knew she was alive, she needed the opportunity to find a husband.

That wouldn’t happen, though. He’d ruined her. No man would accept her now. Not only that, but at the thought of another man with his hands on her body, anger raged through him. Hell, maybe he should just make her his mistress.

But what about that situation with his mother? He couldn’t bear it if an arrangement with Mia left her as bitter as his mother. And if the fact that Mia’s mother could simply abandon her was any indication of the sort of woman she was, well, it seemed that unfaithfulness could certainly take its toll on a person. He couldn’t, no he wouldn’t do that to Mia.

He stood from her bed and pulled on his trousers. He picked up the remaining pieces of his clothing, pressed his boots to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but I cannot.”

***

The Ripper watched Juliet Beckinsale.

She would be his first of noble blood, all the others had been servants and whores. What was the difference, truly? Merely her social standing, but weren’t they all just whores? Perhaps some in better clothing, but whores nonetheless.

At the moment she prattled on about something unimportant. He’d asked her a question, though, to make her feel comfortable about walking with him into a darkened alleyway. And of course, by his clothes, she would have felt safe. He was a gentleman. Of noble birth himself.

She’d been assured her carriage was down this path and when they hadn’t quickly found it, he’d acted as befuddled as she had, which had instilled in her a sense of camaraderie between the two of them. She was young and had been raised not to ask many questions, and though the instructions had given her momentary pause, she’d followed him when he’d stomped off in this direction feigning annoyance at the change of plans.

“Don’t you agree?” he heard her ask now.

“I’m certain that I don’t,” he found himself saying. She’d prattled on long enough. They were sufficiently deep enough into the alleyway that it was unlikely anyone would hear her cry out. Besides, all it would take was one swift slice of the throat and she would have no sound left in her.

“I beg your pardon,” she said.

“You talk too bloody much,” he said.

She stopped walking and eyed him warily. The nearly full moon above them shone brightly onto her fair skin, illuminating her confused expression. Her eyes darted to the left, then the right, and her confusion melted away under the dawning realization that she was in danger. The fear rounded her eyes, then she recovered.

Afraid or not, she would not forget her station, and an earl’s daughter though she may be,
he
was above her and she would maintain propriety. “I believe I will walk back around to the front and wait for my carriage. If you will excuse me.” She turned to go and he nearly let her, let her walk away, but then he remembered why he was here.

He wanted to punish Lord Carrington. Wanted to let him know that when the time came it would be Mia’s turn and no amount of protection could keep her hidden away forever.

He withdrew his blade and jerked the pretty miss back to him, so close that he could feel the breath of her scream on his face.

“You’re very pretty,” he said. He placed the blade against her cheek. “Too pretty, really. Doesn’t give the other girls much of a fair chance.” He pressed the blade into her skin until a bead of blood appeared.

She whimpered and tried to jerk away from him, but he held firm. She kicked at his legs, landing quite a blow to his shin. He backhanded her. “Careful.” Then he smiled. “Though I admit I like the fight.”

He pulled her tight against him again, stood in a way that her body fit between his legs, preventing her from kicking him again. He put the blade back to her face, right by her ear, and dragged it down to her mouth, leaving a bright red line that began to weep down her cheek.

“Please, I won’t tell them who you are and what you did, just let me go,” she said.

“You don’t even know who I am. Oh, you might know my family. But I mean me, my name. I’m the Ripper, the one and only Jack the Ripper. I’m infamous and you will be, too, as soon as I cut you,” he said.

“No, I don’t know your family. I don’t know anything about you,” she pled.

“Do you think me a fool?” he growled. “You won’t be surviving long enough to tell them who I am.”

She cried out. Screamed again and again.

He went to cut her other side, to give her a matching incision on the other cheek.

“You, there! Let her go!” a man yelled as he came toward them. It certainly looked as if he carried a pistol, though he wouldn’t shoot else risk hitting the girl. The Ripper had to make a quick decision; kill her now, then run and risk getting shot, or drop the girl and run and live to kill another day.

The latter won. He released the girl, and shoved her in the direction of the man who had interrupted them. Then he ran. A shot rang out behind him and he wasn’t certain if it hit him or not.

He rounded the corner of the alleyway to the backside of the opera house and found his carriage waiting. He slipped in and the wheels rolled down the street. He’d almost been caught before and there was something thrilling about it. But tonight had been too close and now he had a new problem.

Now he had two witnesses to kill.

***

The following morning, Alex made his way down for breakfast, though it was far later than his usual time. He wondered if they’d already put the food away for the morning. After he’d left Mia in her bed, he’d been in such a state he’d spend the better part of two hours drinking himself into a stupor in his office. Evidently his brother wasn’t the only one capable of making that foolish mistake.

And this morning Alex was paying for it. His head hurt like the devil, and the light streaming in through the open windows pierced daggers through his eyes. He scowled as he stepped into the breakfast room and was surprised to find it full of people. Perhaps he wasn’t as late as he’d first thought.

Edward sat at the table, plate full of food.

“Do they not serve breakfast at your townhome?” Alex asked.

Rachel sat beside Edward and Mia directly across from them. At the sight of her he wanted to say something that would make the turn of events between them less painful, but there was nothing left to say. He couldn’t change anything and last night he’d said what needed to be said. And hurting her now was better than a lifetime of pain, which she would most certainly have if she were his mistress.

“Oh, we have wonderful breakfast at my home. I merely wanted to see your smiling face this morning,” Edward said.

Alex grunted at him as he went directly to the sideboard to fix himself a plate. His stomach rolled in protest and he settled for some warm bread and candied figs. He rang the servant bell and asked for coffee before taking his seat.

“And a good morning to you, too,” Edward said, his tone entirely too cheerful and far too loud.

“Go to the devil,” Alex growled.

“I will not. I’m in far too good of a mood for that. Even
you
cannot sour this day for me.” Edward leaned onto the table and attempted to meet Alex’s gaze. “What’s the matter, old man, can’t hold your liquor anymore?” he teased.

Alex ignored him and took a bite of bread. It was tasteless and hard, crumbling in his mouth like tiny rocks.

“Tell him your good news,” Mia said. She tapped on the table in front of Rachel. She had yet to turn in Alex’s direction.

“Rachel has agreed to marry me,” Edward said.

Despite his ruthless headache, Alex found he was still capable of a smile. “You finally convinced her.” Alex leveled a gaze at Rachel. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

“Yes, I do,” Rachel said quickly. “It’s going to take a lot of work to civilize him, but I believe I’m up for the task.”

“Congratulations, then,” Alex said.

Hodges came in carrying a tray. He set it down next to Alex on the table. “Your Grace, this message just arrived for you. The courier said it was most urgent.”

Alex set his coffee down and picked up the note. It was from Juliet.

Your Grace,

I wish to promptly end our betrothal. Thank you for your kindness, please know that I will take full responsibility for breaking the engagement.

Yours,

Juliet

Relief washed over him as if someone had removed a far-too-heavy coat from his shoulders. But then confusion came close on its heels. Alex released a string of curses.

“What is it?” Edward asked. “Something with Drew?”

“No, nothing to do with Drew.” He came to his feet. “It would seem that I am no longer engaged.” With that, he left the room. As he stepped into the hall, he found Simon entering the front door. Perhaps he’d spoken too soon about Drew. “What now?” he asked.

“I need a moment, Alex,” Simon said.

Alex nodded and walked into his study. Simon followed him. “I’m in a hurry so make this quick.”

“I wasn’t certain if you’d heard yet or not, but I wanted to come straightaway and tell you,” Simon said.