To Love A Lord of London (Wardington Park; Raptures of Royalty) (22 page)

J
ane was being watched
. She could feel eyes on her as she walked further down Oxford Street, trying to blend into the crowds of those on the hunt for new clothes and other necessities. Still, someone was following her. But she’d been summoned. She’d seen the mark on the lantern post outside her residence and knew where to meet.

T
he clouds overtook
the afternoon sky and cast the world into gray, yet that hadn’t stopped the people of London from coming out, if only to be seen in their best. Seeing her destination, she ducked into the millinery shop.

She met very few eyes as she made her way to the shop owner, Mrs. Button, another person forced to work for His Grace. Another slave.

“Miss Croftman.” The smile pasted on for appearances.

“I’ve come to look at our hat.”

Mrs. Button nodded, “It’s on the back table.”

Jane gave her a quick smile and then went to look. There were three hats on the back table, but Jane easily identified hers. It was the ugly one—the one no one would dare pick up. Created just for this purpose.

S
he lifted
the sickly green colored bonnet and flipped it over. A note lay on it. Looking around, she didn’t spot anyone out of the ordinary—just groups of women, laughing and trying on one hat after another or whispering with their friends. Girls with simple lives. Lives, very much unlike hers.

She slipped the note into the pocket of her skirt to read later.

“Jane!”

She turned to watch Lady Amy Dawnton approach.

A real smile touched Jane’s lips as the women embraced. If Jane had to call anyone in the world her best friend, Amy would only be second to Jane’s sister Catherine. Amy Dawnton, who’d been Amy Ott when they’d met, was the niece of the Duke of Hensman, the highest-ranking duke in Europe. A man who knew the king well—it was only that fact that Jane believed kept their friendship safe. Amy was untouchable because of whom she belonged to.

Jane’s hand moved to rest on Amy’s protruding stomach. “And how is our little lord doing this afternoon?”

Amy’s smile reached her brown eyes. “Who's to say she’s not a lady?”

T
he women laughed
.

Many women—jealous women—believed Amy to look dull, much too dull to have caught the likes of Nathaniel Dawnton, a known rake before he’d married. But, Jane knew that what he and Amy shared was true love, and it was love that shown on Amy’s face, making her sunshine on this dreary day.

Amy said, “And congratulations.”

Jane paused, “How do you know?”

Amy laughed. “Your mother, of course. She’s telling everyone. She even invited Nathaniel and I to the dinner tonight.” She grinned. “A double wedding.”

“A dinner?” Her mother worked fast. William had only come by the house that morning, and Jane had left quickly after he’d arrived, believing it her best time to get away without being followed by him. William would be too busy with her brother to track her whereabouts—keeping him safe.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Amy asked. She looked a little hurt.

Jane knew exactly what she meant. She was engaged to an earl. Usually, things of such magnitude wouldn’t happen so quickly, yet that was exactly what had happened. She was to marry a complete stranger. A complete stranger who made her warm with just a glance.

“
J
ane
.” That deep voice.

She looked up just in time to watch him make his way through the crowd of ladies at the shop. All eyes were on him. He towered over them all. Gloriously beautiful. He smiled at her as if she were the only thing he saw, his dark blue eyes trained on her, humor in his eyes. He’d found her! How?

He came to a stop beside Jane and took her elbow, as though she were his to claim… and she was. Or would be very soon. He was grinning when he said, “Always sneaking off, but I’ll always find you.”

Jane looked away. To anyone else, the words sounded flirtatious, but Jane knew what he meant. She couldn’t escape him.

He turned to Amy, “Lady Dawnton, it’s good to see you.”

Amy curtsied. “You as well, my lord.”

“Will you and Lord Nathaniel be able to make the dinner?”

“
W
e wouldn’t miss it
.”

“Wonderful; now, I hope you don’t mind if I steal Jane from you for—”

“Not at all.” She grinned and then looked to Jane. “We’ll talk later.” It was a promise. Then she was gone.

Once she left, William turned to Jane, fully invading her space. In a hat shop. On Oxford Street. In front of the daughters of the ton!

His eyes darkened. “Why are you here, Jane?” He took a step toward her.

Jane stepped back… just like he’d wished her to. Their feet began a dance, walking her backwards, further into the shop behind hat racks, which contained the wares from last season, a section of the shop no true lady would glance at, away from prying eyes.

“
J
ane
?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was looking for a hat?”

He lifted a brow. His hands appeared on her hips, their heat burning through her dress.

Jane gasped, “We’re in public.”

He lifted a wide shoulder. “If anyone is to believe our quick engagement was done in love, then it’s best we put on a show.”

“Love? Why would we wish anyone to believe so?”

“For your sister? To avoid scandal.”

Jane was amazed. “You’d do this for her?” That he’d even thought to help secure Catherine and Andrew’s marriage spoke highly of him.

He leaned closer to her. He smelt like man and forest. “I’d do this for you.”

The words wreaked havoc in her mind. Jane felt almost dizzy, a feeling she was getting used to with William around. It was the hands on her hips that kept her upright. For further support, she placed her hands on his shoulders. “William.”

His eyes darkened. He stepped closer.

Her breath caught as his lips came near hers, hovering only an inch away.

His hands began to move, sliding up her rib cage before descending back down to her hips… then lower… His hand went into her skirt and lifted the note from her pocket. Then he stepped back.

T
he woman was dangerous
. Every nerve in William’s body was alert when she was near. He hadn’t felt this alive in years. It was no wonder at all that he’d sought her out once he’d left Joseph’s office. His valet had told him that Cornelius was following her until he’d switched off with one of his female staff members when Jane had entered the millinery shop. William had a network of people watching her every move because he had every intention of finding out who’d struck him over the head . He also had every intention of saving Jane whether she wished him to or not.

Jane leaned against a table, hands gripping the edge, her chest rising and falling. Her beautiful eyes switched from his to the note in his hand. “Give that back.”

William didn’t reply as he began to open it.

Jane threw herself at him then, trying in vain to reach for the note. He didn’t even have to hold it up that high in order to keep it away from her. She was simply that short. He read the note. Then he read it again. An address in the East End. A meeting tonight. Jane would not be going; he’d make sure of it.

He looked down at her to find her glaring up at him. “That is not yours.”

“We are to be wed. Whatever is yours will be mine.”

S
he looked away
.

He put the note in his pocket.

She grasped to fetch it, but he held himself at a distance then lowered his head and whispered, “Cease, or our fans will think you wish to have my clothes off.”

Jane stopped then. “I rather have your head off,” she replied.

William smiled and then his smile fell. “Does Mrs. Button work for His Grace?”

He watched the shock at him knowing anything about His Grace play on her face. Then she shook her head. “No, she’s… like me.”

“And what exactly are you?”

S
he bit
her lower lip with her teeth, a lip he desperately wanted to touch, searching for the right words. “We’re at his service.”

“Stealing.”

“I steal. Mrs. Button doesn’t.”

“Who else works for him?”

N
o reply
.

“Why do you protect him?”

Jane headed toward the door. William followed her, catching her elbow as they walked up the street. Then he steered her toward his waiting carriage and escorted her inside. After instructing the driver to head to her home, he stepped inside, sitting next to her.

“Why do you protect him?”

“I don’t.”

“Who is he?”

No answer.

“You know I will find out, don’t you?”

She turned to him. “You must stop this. Please, I don’t want you involved.”

“Why?”

Her eyes fluttered a bit, her long, dark lashes touching her cheeks. Then she was looking at him again. “Give me the note.”

Oh, how he wished to shake this woman. “Tell me who he is, and the note is yours.”

She looked away and then back again. “I have your word on this?”

He nodded, “His name for your note. I promise.”

J
ane needed that note
. She knew what it would hold—the destination for their next meeting. She had to be there, or there would be consequences. But in order to get it, she’d have to give up the name of the man who held her life hostage. And as she stared into William’s eyes, she figured that perhaps… once William knew who he was… he’d think better of his involvement in the situation and let her handle it herself. Even better, he might postpone their wedding date until after Catherine and Andrew were secured before completely calling it off. All she had to do was give him a name.

“
H
e
… calls himself the Lord of London.”

William stared at her. “Only the King lords over London.” An aristocratic answer. The answer of a man who knew nothing of how the dark world operated. There was not a single word of scandal with William’s involvement. And even while he married a girl he hardly knew, he’d managed to control the narrative in a way that would leave him lily white in the end. William was a good man and didn’t need to be tainted by her world.

Jane looked out the window. Traffic had slowed them down, but they were now travelling on a less populated back road to her home. Brick walls slid past her eyes as she tried to figure out her words. “His name is—”

T
he carriage rocked
as it went over a pothole in the road. There was the sound of a crack, and Jane felt herself airborne as the carriage tipped over. She heard horses’ crying and another shout, most likely from the driver, before the carriage hit pavement. Jane closed her eyes, bracing for impact, then found that she’d landed on top of something soft, yet firm. William. His arms were around her, holding her, engulfing her body in his.

She looked up and found his eyes on hers, a startled look that probably matched her own.

“Are you all right?”

“I think so. Are you?”

He didn’t seem to hear her though. His hands moved over her arms, patting her dress. “Are you all right?” he asked again. “Are you hurt?” Panic, she knew the sound of it. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. He checked her face. His fingers moved through her hair, checking her scalp, not caring that he was ruining her hair.

“
W
illiam
?”

His eyes didn’t meet hers but simply kept moving over her where his hands touched. He grabbed her neck and thrust her head around. “Does this hurt?”

“William, I’m all right—”

“Answer me!” His voice almost loud enough to shake the turned carriage.

Her eyes went wide. This level of concern was frightening.

The carriage door flung open. A male voice asked, “Are you all right, my lord?”

“Yes,” William called. “Please, get Miss Croftman out.”

Hands reached inside, and Jane went into them, getting pulled out of the darkness of the carriage and back into the gray of London. Two men had pulled her out, and a crowd of both men and women stood around. This story would get out quickly.

Once she was down, she turned and watched as William crawled unassisted from the carriage and once he was on the pavement, he was at it again, checking her over.

“How are your ankles? Does it hurt to walk?” He wasn’t shouting now, but the panic was still there. He leaned over, as if to touch her legs through her skirts, and Jane knew it a bad idea—with or without the crowd.

“
W
illiam
.” She grabbed his head then, forcing him to look at her. When his eyes finally and truly met hers, she spoke slowly, “William. I’m unharmed thanks to you. I’m all right. You caught me.”

He stared at her, his blue eyes wide. He still looked as though he wasn’t listening. But he nodded. Then he kissed her. Deeply. Right there in the middle of the day in London traffic. And Jane didn’t stop him. Instead, she met his urgency with that of her own.

Applause began to thunder around them.

William broke the kiss, and before Jane could say anything else, he turned away and began to scream at the driver. “How did this happen?”

The driver, who looked to have survived the accident but was injured, looked frightened. “I don’t know, my lord. The wheel looks to have come off.”

“
H
ow
?”

The poor man shook a head full of gray hair. “I don’t know. I checked it over myself before we fell. I would never wish harm to befall you.”

William’s fist tightened. “Yet, it happened. Jane was almost hurt!” He lunged at the man, but the two men who’d helped Jane out of the carriage were there to hold him back.

Jane had stood transfixed through the beginning of the altercation, but once violence was invoked, she awakened and moved toward the driver. “Hello, I’m Jane.”

The driver glanced in William’s direction before meeting her eyes. There were tears in his blue gaze. “Mr. Thomas, Miss Croftman.” He didn’t dare call her by her first name.

Jane smiled, if only to reassure him that he was all right. “Mr. Thomas, at any time, did you step away from the carriage?”

T
he tears fell then
as he shook his head. “Never, miss. I always stay right next to the carriage at all times.”

She nodded, “That’s good. Did you see anyone approach it? Perhaps, when you were on the other side? Away from the wheel that came off?”

Mr. Thomas began to shake his head again, but then he paused, his eyes widening. “I did, actually. Two kids were hanging a ‘bout. I told them to move along, and they ran. Do you think…”

Jane didn’t have to think. She knew. Gore. He’d tried to kill William. She turned to look at him, his eyes meeting hers, and she knew his mind had drawn the same conclusion. She watched as a new and fresh spark of anger ignited in William. The men still held him back, but to Jane he said, “I want a name.” He repeated it over and over again.

She stood and began to walk away. She’d put him in danger. It was all her fault.

“Jane?”

She turned to find Amy on the street with the crowd. Her friend came out to meet her. “Oh, dear. Have you been hurt?”

Jane shook her head, “Please, get me out of here.”

“Of course.”

Jane rushed away from the scene, though in her heart, she knew she could never truly run from William… or her growing feeling for him.

S
he was
the first person he looked for upon entering the Croftman home that evening, but the circle of those who wished to congratulate him almost kept him hostage by the door. When he’d been invited to dinner that night, he’d expected no more than twenty people. There were twice as many in attendance. He should have known the draw of a double wedding would have many willing to drop their every activity and come to the Croftman home.

But William didn’t have time for the crowds. He needed to see Jane… and apologize. He’d acted uncivilized in her presence. Frightened her. But when their carriage had tipped over, all he could think about was Isabella and how another woman under his protection was put in danger because of him… or so he’d assumed. But, then he’d seen the truth. The accident earlier that day had been no accident at all. It had been the work of His Grace—a man whose name he still didn’t have.

He cooled his anger as he found himself pulled into conversation. Everyone wanted a retelling of the accident in the street as though there had been some act of heroism on his part. “The wheel came off,” he said to all that wished to listen. “We survived.” There was nothing more to say about it.

B
ut no one agreed
.

“Modest, aren’t we,” Countess Hatcher said. “Jane says you practically protected her by putting yourself at risk.”

He stared at her, “It was my carriage. She was my responsibility.”

“He’s such a gentleman,” the countess replied. “He's a true gentleman.”

A murmur of agreement went throughout those who stood around.

Then another voice said, “I never expected anything less.” It was his mother.

“He’ll make a fine Prime Minister. Isn’t that so?” The agreeance came again.

The dowager made her way to his side before pulling him away. A genuine smile lit her face… just as he knew it would. Since the moment he’d decided to marry Jane, he’d known his mother would be pleased. He’d known a part of her had feared he never would, not after the deep sadness he’d suffered after Isabella’s death. But William understood his duty.

“
I
’m very
happy for you, William,” she began. “You know I’ve always adored the Croftmans, and though I’ve never gotten to know Jane like I have Catherine, I’m sure I’ll like her as well.” The dowager and Catherine were very much alike. Not only striking beauties, but also vocal ones at that. Always willing to shock the ton. She really liked Catherine, yet the dowager too had been involved in getting Catherine matched with Andrew as a favor to the Duke of Wardington. Much like his mother had assisted in getting Wardington’s other son, Nathaniel, married the previous year. William thought the dowager and the duke were both just filling the void that the strict rules of being a peer demanded that they follow.

His mother continued, “Many think you married Jane because you could not have Catherine. At least, they thought so until the carriage accident. By the way, are you hurt?” Her look was full of tension.

He shook his head, his eye still moving over the crowd. “No, I was unharmed.” Though his stomach bottomed at the thought of anyone thinking less of Jane. “Jane is not a second place prize.”

“Good, and I’m sure everyone believes so now. The kiss you gave her after the accident has grown in Shakespearean magnitudes. They say it was very… passionate.” She looked at him. “Is it a love match?” She was looking at him as they entered the room.

W
illiam stared
at his mother and knew he could not lie to her. He was just getting ready to say no when he saw her, Jane, standing across the room. Their eyes connected, and everything around them faded away. The dress she wore made her look like a forbidden forest nymph, and her pale skin glowed in the soft lantern light, making her look almost magical. She’d been wearing a false smile when he first saw her, but now the smile had fallen, and her lips parted in that way that made her irresistible. He grinned and watched as her eyes widened. No doubt she was growing more and more confused about their arrangement. And so was he. This little criminal.

“Well.” The dowager began to fan herself. “I believe that answers my question.”

William turned to her, “It isn’t a love match.”

“Yet,” she countered.

H
e frowned
.

“Lord Cartridge.”

His eyes moved to stare at whomever had approached. It was Jane’s mother, Mrs. Croftman. And the woman looked more than pleased.

She looked ready to throw her arms around him. “My lord, when my son told me you’d asked for my daughter's hand, I couldn’t say how thrilled I became at the news. I’m sure you two will make one another very happy indeed.”

He took the hand she offered and then smiled at Jane as he spoke to her mother. “I’m sure we will.”

Jane ducked her head but not before he saw her cheeks grow red. She could probably lie to the world about who she truly was, but she couldn’t lie in this. She’d enjoyed their kisses just as much as he had. Once this arrangement with His Grace was put to rest, William had every intention of enjoying his marriage to Jane. Love remained unnecessary.

J
ane sat
across from William at dinner. A first. Usually, guests at dinner parties were seated in order of rank. Duke, Earls, and the like at the head of the gathering while land gentry took the other end. Not so at this occasion.

Since the dinner was for the couple, all Jane had to do was lift her head in order to meet his dark gaze. She found him staring at her when she would look at him. His blue eyes hadn't left hers for longer than a moment as he spoke to the guests around, only daring to turn away when someone called his name.

“When are you really going to tell me what's going on?” Catherine whispered into Jane’s ear. “The way he watches you leads me to believe that there is more to this match than you are telling me.”

Jane turned away from William and looked at her. She'd told her sister the real reason they were getting married. The kiss that led to it. Joseph’s anger. With so many lies between them, it was good to finally speak truth. There were so many things she wanted to say, if only she could. “What more could there be?” she asked the question seriously. Could there be more? More than the fact that William was to make it look like a love match for Catherine and Andrew’s sake?

“
J
ane
.” Catherine smiled, “He stares at you as though you are everything to him.”

Jane didn’t return her eyes to William. She didn’t want her heart to grab hold to such things. Her? William’s everything? “It’s simply the carriage accident. He seemed extremely nervous when he thought me hurt. No doubt, he feared that Joseph would strangle him if anything awful came to me.”

Catherine thought on that then nodded. “That makes sense.”

“It does?” Jane had only said it to steer her thoughts away from impossibility.

“It does. He told me that he’d once lost someone. A woman he loved.”

Jane’s eyes went wide, “He did?”

Another nod. “The way he’d told the tale led me to believe that it had happened many years ago… yet, the sadness in his eyes… I could tell that her death still plagues him.”

Jane looked at him then and felt a sadness touch her as well for the man who’d once loved and lost. Perhaps, she—whomever she was—was the reason why William had panicked in the carriage. Perhaps, she was also the reason why William so desperately wished to help Jane. Was the woman’s death his causing? Was Jane some form of redemption? Heat touched her cheeks, and she gasped when she realized that what she was feeling at the moment was jealousy… toward a dead woman! She stood, causing every man at the table to stand as well. She’d forgotten where she was, who she was around, and now felt embarrassed.