Bow Street Runner - Worth Any Price Part 3

Shrugging, Gentry left the lamp burning. He rested one of his legs on the upholstery, grimacing slightly. Clearly it was uncomfortable for a man of his size to be confined in a relatively small area.

aIs this yours?a Lottie asked. aOr did you hire it as part of your deception?a Realizing that she referred to the carriage, he gave her a mocking smile. aItas mine.a aI wouldnat have thought a professional man could afford such a vehicle.a The runner played idly with the fringed edge of the little window curtain nearby. aMy work requires frequent travel. I prefer to do it in comfort.a aDo you often use an a.s.sumed name when you go about your investigations?a He shook his head. aMost of the time there is no need.a aI wonder that you didnat choose a better disguise,a she said. aOne that could not be disproved so easily. It did not take long for Lord Westcliff to discover that there is no Viscount Sydney.a A strange expression crossed his face, amus.e.m.e.nt interlaced with discomfort, and he seemed to engage in a silent debate about whether or not to tell her something. Finally his mouth twisted, and he let out a brief sigh. aWestcliff was wrong. Thereis a Viscount Sydney. At least, there is a legitimate successor to the t.i.tle.a Lottie regarded him skeptically. aWho is he? And if what you say is true, why has he not come forward to claim his t.i.tle and property?a aNot everyone wants to be a peer.a aOf course they do! Besides, a peer isnat given the choice. One either is, or isnat. He canat deny his birthright any more than he can change his eye color.a ad.a.m.ned if he canat,a came his scowling reply.

aThere is no need to be cross,a Lottie said. aAnd you havenat yet told me who and where this mysterious viscount is, which leads me to believe that youare making it up.a Gentry changed position, shifting uncomfortably, his gaze carefully averted from hers. aItas me.a aWhat?Are you trying to fool me into thinking that you are some long-lost peer?You , a crime lord and thief-taker, are a secret viscount?a Lottie shook her head decisively. aI donat think so.a aI donat give a d.a.m.n if you believe it or not,a Gentry said evenly. aEspecially when it has no bearing on the future, as I will never claim the t.i.tle.a Lottie stared at his hard profile in astonishment. He certainly seemed to believe what he was saying. But how could it be possible? If there was any truth to his claim, how had a son of the aristocracy come to this turn? One did not begin life as a member of the n.o.bility and end up as aawhatever he was. She couldnat keep from pelting him with questions. aYou are John, Lord Sydney? The son of the Viscount Sydney who died twenty years ago, supposedly without an heir? Do you have any proof of this? Is there anyone who would corroborate it?a aMy sister, Sophia. And her husband, Sir Ross Cannon.a aThe magistrate? The former head of Bow Street is yourbrother-in-law ?a Gentry responded with a single nod. Lottie was utterly confounded. She supposed she had no choice but to believe him, since the story could easily be discredited if it were untrue. But it was so fantastical, so absurd, that she couldnat begin to make sense of it.

aI was seven years old, perhaps eight, when my parents died,a Gentry explained gruffly. aOther than me, there were no male relatives who could lay legitimate claim to the t.i.tle or lands. Not that there was much to inherit, as my father was in debt, and the estate was in disrepair. My older sister Sophia and I knocked about the village for a while, until she was finally taken in by a distant cousin. But I had become a h.e.l.lion, and the cousin was understandably reluctant to take me under her roof. So I ran off to London, and became a footpad, until I was imprisoned for my crimes. When another boy died in prison, I took his name so that I could gain early release.a aHe must have been the real Nick Gentry, then,a Lottie said.

aYes.a aAnd you took his ident.i.ty and let everyone believe that you had died?a A defiant gleam entered his eyes. aHe had no more use for the name.a aBut certainly later you must have thought about reclaiming your true nameayour rightful position in societyaa aI have exactly the position in society that I want. And Nick Gentry has become my name more than it ever was his. I intend to let Sydney rest in peace.a He smiled sardonically. aSorry for the loss of prestige, but youare going to be known as Mrs. Nick Gentry, and no one save my sister and her husband will be aware of the truth. Do you understand?a Lottie nodded with a puzzled frown. aI donat care about a loss of prestige. If I did, I would have married Lord Radnor.a aYou donat mind being the wife of a commoner, then,a Gentry said, watching her intently. aOne with limited means.a aI am used to living in humble circ.u.mstances. My family is of good blood, but as I mentioned once before, we are poor.a Gentry studied the polished tips of his boots. aLord Radnor was a d.a.m.ned stingy benefactor, if the condition of Howard House is anything to judge by.a Lottie inhaled swiftly. aYouave been to my familyas home?a He glanced into her wide eyes. aYes, I visited your parents to question them. They knew that I was searching for you.a aOh,a Lottie said in dismay. Of course her parents would have cooperated with the investigation. They had been aware that Lord Radnor wanted to find her, and as always, they had acceded to his wishes. The news should not have come as a surprise. And yet she could not help feeling betrayed. Had they taken even one moment to consider her interests, rather than Radnoras? Her throat tightened, and she could not seem to swallow properly.

aThey answered every question in detail,a Gentry continued. aIave seen the dolls you once played with, the storybook you drew inaI even know the size of your shoes.a Filled with terrible vulnerability, Lottie wrapped her arms around herself. aIt seems odd that you have seen my family, when I have been away from them for two years. H-how are my sisters and my brothers? How is Ellie?a aThe sixteen-year-old? Quiet. Pretty. In good health, it seems.a aSixteen,a Lottie murmured, unsettled by the realization that her siblings had grown older, just as she had. They had all changed during the time they had been apart. Her head ached suddenly, and she rubbed her forehead. aWhen my parents spoke of me, did they seem toaa aWhat?a aDo they hate me?a she asked distractedly. aIave so often wonderedaa aNo, they donat hate you.a His voice became oddly gentle. aTheyare concerned for their own hides, of course, and they seem to entertain a sincere belief that you would benefit from a marriage to Radnor.a aTheyave never understood what he is really like.a aThey donat want to. Theyave profited far more by deceiving themselves.a Lottie was tempted to rebuke him even though she had thought the same thing a thousand times before. aThey needed Lord Radnoras money,a she said dully. aThey have expensive tastes.a aIs that how your father lost the family fortune? By living outside his means?a aI donat believe there was much of a fortune to begin with. But my parents certainly spent whatever was available. I remember that when I was a child, we had the best of everything. And then when the money was gone, we nearly starved. Until Lord Radnor intervened.a She continued to rub her forehead, letting her fingers drift to her aching temples. aThe argument could easily be made that Iave benefitted from his interest. Because of Radnor, I was sent to the most exclusive girlsa school in London, and he paid for my food, my clothes, and even hired a maid to attend me. I thought he wanted to make a lady of me. At first I was even grateful that he took such care to prepare me for being his wife.a aBut it became more complicated than that,a Gentry murmured.

She nodded. aI was treated like a pet on a leash. Radnor decided what I could read, what I was allowed to eatahe instructed the teachers that my baths were to be ice cold, as he believed it was more conducive to good health than hot water. My diet was limited to broth and fruit wheneverhe decided that I needed slimming. I had to write a letter to him every day, to describe my progress on the subjects he wished me to study. There were rules for everythingaI was never to speak unless my thoughts were well formed and gracefully expressed. I was never to offer an opinion about anything. If I fidgeted, my hands were tied to the seat of my chair. If I became sun-browned, I was kept indoors.a She let out a strained sigh. aLord Radnor wanted to make me into another person entirely. I could not fathom what it would be like to live with him as his wife, or what would happen when he finally realized that I could never attain the standards of perfection he set.a Lost in the dark memories, Lottie twisted her fingers together and spoke without being fully aware of what she revealed. aHow I dreaded coming home on holidays. He was always there, waiting for me. He barely allowed me time to see my brothers and sisters before I had to go with him andaa She stopped suddenly, realizing that she had been about to confide the secret that had caused her parents to erupt in fury when she had tried to tell them. It had seethed at the bottom of her soul for years. They had somehow made it clear without words that the familyas survival, and hers, depended entirely on her silence. Choking back the forbidden words, Lottie closed her eyes.

aYou had to go with him andaa Gentry prompted.

She shook her head. aIt doesnat matter now.a aTell me.a His voice was soft. aI a.s.sure you, nothing you say could shock me.a Lottie regarded him cautiously, realizing it was true. With all that Gentry had seen and heard and done, nothing would disgust him.

aGo on,a he murmured.

And Lottie found herself telling him what no one had ever wanted to hear.

aEvery time I came home, I had to go into a private room with Radnor, and account to him for my behavior at school, and answer his questions about my studies and my friends, andaa She stared into Gentryas inscrutable face, finding that his lack of reaction made it easy for her to continue. aHe made me sit on his lap while we talked. He touched me, on my chest and beneath my skirts. It was repulsive, allowing him toabut I couldnat stop him, and my parentsaa She shrugged helplessly. aThey wouldnat listen when I tried to tell them. It went on for years. My mother slapped me once, and told me that I belonged to Lord Radnor, and that he was going to marry me anyway. She said I must let him do as he liked. The familyas safety depended on his pleasure and goodwill.a Shame infused her voice as she added, aAnd then I ran from him anyway, and by doing so I threw them all to the wolves.a Gentry spoke carefully, as if she were still an innocent child rather than a woman of twenty. aDid it go farther than touching, Lottie?a She stared at him without comprehension.

His dark head tilted slightly, his voice remaining soft as he persisted. aDid he bring you or himself to climax, while you sat on his lap?a Her face turned hot as she understood what he was referring toathe mysterious ecstatic culmination that some of the girls had described with naughty laughs. A physical pleasure that she certainly could never have felt with Radnor. aI donat think so.a aBelieve me, you would know if either of you had,a he said sardonically.

Lottie thought of the way that Gentry had touched her in the firelight, the coiling sensation she had felt in her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and loins and stomach, the sweet aching frustration that had tormented her so. Had that been climax, or was there more she had yet to experience? She was sorely tempted to ask her companion, but she kept silent out of fear that he might mock her for her ignorance.

The sway of the well-sprung carriage lulled her, and she yawned tightly behind her hand.

aYou should rest,a Gentry said quietly.

Lottie shook her head, reluctant to abandon herself in slumber while he watched. How silly to fear that small intimacy after all that had happened between them. She sought for a new topic of conversation.

aWhy did you become a Bow Street runner? I canat believe you chose such a profession willingly.a A laugh rustled in his throat. aOh, I was willing enough, considering the alternative. I made a deal with my brother-in-law, Sir Ross, three years ago. At the time he was chief magistrate of Bow Street, and he had evidence in his possession that would have had me dancing in the wind, had it ever been presented at a trial.a aDancing in the wind,a Lottie repeated, puzzled by the unfamiliar expression.

aHanging. Dangling at the end of a rope. Believe me, I should have been drawn and quartered for some of the things I did in my underworld career.a Pausing to observe the effect of his words, Gentry smiled slightly at her obvious unease. aIn an effort to avoid the uncomfortable position of having to execute his wifeas brother,a he continued, aSir Ross offered to conceal the d.a.m.ning evidence against me, if I would double-cross my underworld a.s.sociates and become a runner.a aFor how long?a aIndefinitely. Naturally I agreed, as I had no loyalty to my former companions, and I didnat fancy having my neck stretched.a Lottie frowned. aWhy did Sir Ross want you to become a runner?a aI believe he had the mistaken impression that a few years of public service would reform me.a Gentry grinned suddenly. aIt hasnat yet.a aIsnat it rather hazardous for you to hunt criminals in such places, after you have betrayed them?a aMore than a few people would like my head on a silver platter,a he admitted with reckless confidence. aIn fact, you may not have to endure me for long. Everyone who knows me will vouch for the fact that Iam going to die young.a aI probably wonat be that fortunate,a she said sardonically. aBut one can hope.a Immediately after Lottie said the words, she was inundated with shame. It wasnat like her to stoop to such nastiness. aIam sorry,a she said at once. aI shouldnat have said that.a aThatas all right,a he said easily. aIave inspired people to say much worse, with less cause.a aThat I can believe,a she replied, and he laughed.

aIam going to snuff the light,a he said. aI have to take my rest when and where I can find it. And tomorrow promises to be busy.a The silence that followed was surprisingly comfortable. Lottie settled into the corner, exhausted and dazed by the unforeseen direction her life had taken. She had expected that sleep would be elusive, with all the thoughts buzzing through her mind. However, a deep slumber soon overtook her, and she sagged against the seat cushions. Shifting, twisting restlessly, she sought a more comfortable position. She felt herself being gathered up and held like a child, and the dream was so soothing that she couldnat help but surrender to the insidious pleasure. Something soft brushed her forehead, and the last few pins that anch.o.r.ed her coiffure were gently drawn from her hair. She inhaled a wonderful scent, the crispness of wool and shaving soap overlaying the essence of clean male skin.

Realizing that she was lying in Gentryas arms, snuggled in his lap, she stirred groggily. aWhatawhataa aSleep,a he whispered. aI wonat harm you.a His long fingers moved through the loose locks of her hair.

The part of Lottieas mind that protested such a circ.u.mstance grappled with the rest of her brain, which pointed out that she was exhausted, and at this point it hardly mattered what liberties she allowed him. However, she stubbornly tugged free of him and pushed away from the inviting warmth of his body. He released her easily, his eyes a dark glitter in the shadows.

aIam not your enemy, Lottie.a aAre you my friend?a she parried. aYou havenat behaved like one so far.a aI havenat forced you to do anything you didnat want to do.a aIf you hadnat found me, I would still be residing happily at Stony Cross Parka"a aYou werenat happy there. Iall wager you havenat been happy a day in your life since you met Lord Radnor.a Oh, how she longed to contradict him! But it was pointless to lie, when the truth was obvious.

aYouall find life a h.e.l.l of a lot more enjoyable as my wife,a Gentry continued. aYou wonat be anyoneas servant. You can do as you please, within reasonable limits. And you wonat have to fear Lord Radnor any longer.a aAll for the price of sleeping with you,a she muttered.

He smiled, all velvety arrogance as he replied. aYou may come to enjoy that part of it most of all.a

Chapter Six.

When Lottie emerged from her slumber, daylight was leaking through the gaps in the window curtains. Bleary-eyed, disheveled, she glanced at her husband-to-be, whose clothes were rumpled but who was remarkably alert.

aI donat require much sleep,a he said, as if reading her thoughts. Reaching for her hand, he deposited her hairpins in her palm. Her fingers curled around the bits of wire, which had retained the heat of his skin. Mechanically she proceeded to braid and coil her hair with an efficiency born of long-standing habit.

Drawing aside the curtain, Gentry glanced at the swarming city outside the carriage window. A stray shaft of sunlight caught his eyes, turning them to a shade of blue that seemed almost unnatural. Even sitting in an enclosed carriage, Lottie could sense his familiarity with the city, the fearlessness that made no corner or rookery too dangerous for him to venture into.

No aristocrat she had ever encountereda"and there had always been plenty of them at Stony Cross Parka"had ever possessed such a street-seasoned look, the hardened demeanor that suggested he would be willing to do anything, no matter how abhorrent, to accomplish his goals. Well-bred men were able to draw the line at certain mattersathey had principles and standardsathings that Gentry had so far not displayed.

If he was indeed a peer, Lottie thought it was wise of him to reject his heritage and alet Sydney rest in peace,a as he had put it. She was certain that had he chosen otherwise, he would have found it difficult, even impossible, to make a place for himself in Londonas rarefied upper crust.

aLord Westcliff told me that you were the head of a corporation of thieves,a she commented. aHe also said that youa"a aI regret to say that I wasnat nearly as powerful a figure as everyone makes me out to be,a Gentry interrupted. aThe stories are exaggerated more each time theyare told. A few chapbook writers have done their best to make me as menacing as Attila the Hun. Not that Iam claiming innocence, of course. I ran a h.e.l.l of a good smuggling operation. And although I admit my methods were questionable, I was a better thief-taker than any of Cannonas runners.a aI donat understand how you could direct thieves and smugglers and be a thief-taker at the same time.a aI planted spies and informers all over London, and beyond. I had evidence on everyone from Gin Alley to Dead Manas Lane. Whenever someone got in the way of what I wanted, I turned him in and collected the bounty. As a runner, I find the business of thief-taking a bit more difficult, as the chief magistrate insists that I do things his way. But Iam still the best man heas got.a aAnd not shy about saying so,a Lottie said dryly.

aIam not one for false modesty. And it happens to be the truth.a aI donat doubt it. You managed to find me when Lord Radnoras men failed after two years of trying.a He surveyed her with unnerving intensity. aThe more I learned about you, the more curious I became. I wanted to see what kind of girl had the courage to create a new life for herself, with no help from anyone.a aCourage,a she repeated dubiously. aStrange, that you should call it that, when Iave always considered it cowardice.a He was about to reply when the carriage made a sharp turn and traveled along a well-paved street. It was sided by a landscaped green with trees and garden walks. Tidy three-story homes of mellow brick lined the secluded lane, which featured a surprisingly pastoral atmosphere in the midst of the bustling city. aBetterton,a Gentry said, identifying the street. aThe Bow Street office is located to our south, and Covent Garden just beyond that.a aIs the market within walking distance?a Lottie asked, antic.i.p.ating the prospect of exploring her new surroundings. Although Maidstoneas was established in west London, the students had never been allowed to go anywhere.

aYes, but you wonat be walking anywhere without me.a aI am in the habit of going out every morning,a she said, wondering if that small but necessary pleasure was going to be withheld from her.

aIall walk with you, then. Or a footman will accompany you. But I wonat have my wife wandering outside unprotected.a My wife.The casual phrase seemed to knock the breath from Lottieas lungs. Suddenly the idea of marrying himaaccepting his authority, submitting to his wishesaseemed entirely real, whereas it had only been an abstract notion before. It seemed that Gentry had surprised himself as well, for he clamped his mouth shut and stared out the window with a frown. Lottie wondered if the prospect of marriage had also just become real to himaor, G.o.d help her, if he was having second thoughts.

The carriage stopped before a house designed in the symmetrical early Georgian style, with white Doric columns and folding glazed doors that opened to a domed entrance hall. The small but elegant residence went so far beyond Lottieas expectations that she stared at it in wordless amazement.

Exiting the carriage first, Gentry helped her descend, while a footman hastened up the front steps to alert the servants to the masteras arrival.

Grimacing at her cramped leg muscles, Lottie relied on the support of Gentryas arm as they approached the door. A middle-aged housekeeper greeted them. She was a plump woman with warm eyes and smooth silver hair.

aMrs. Trench,a Gentry said with sudden mischief dancing in his eyes, aas you can see, Iave brought a guest with me. Her name is Miss Howard. I will counsel you to treat her well, as she has just convinced me to marry her.a Catching the implication thatshe was the one who had pressed for marriage, Lottie gave him a speaking glance, and he grinned.

Mrs. Trench could not hide her astonishment. Clearly it was difficult to twist oneas brain around the concept of a man like Nick Gentry getting married. aYes, sir.a She curtsied to Lottie. aWelcome, Miss Howard. Congratulations, and much joy to you.a aThank you,a Lottie returned with a smile, then looked cautiously at Gentry. No mention had been made of how he expected them to behave in front of the servants. For heavenas sake, she hadnat even known that hehad servants. She supposed that the household would know quite soon that theirs was a marriage of convenience, so there was little sense in pretending any kind of affection for him.

aHave a room readied, and tell the cook to prepare something for Miss Howard,a he said to Mrs. Trench.

aWill you require a plate as well, sir?a Gentry shook his head. aI intend to leave soon, to make some arrangements.a aYes, sir.a The housekeeper hurried to follow his wishes.

Glancing down at Lottie, Gentry tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. aI will be gone for only a short time. Youare safe here, and the servants will do exactly as you tell them.a Did he think she might be distressed by his absence? Surprised by his concern, Lottie nodded. aOf course.a aTell Mrs. Trench to show you the house in my absence.a He hesitated briefly. aNaturally I will have no objection if you wish to change anything that is not to your liking.a aIam certain that I shall find it acceptable.a Their surroundings were tasteful and eleganta"the entranceway, with its marble floor patterned in geometric designs, the little staircase hall beyond, and a set of paneled mahogany doors opening to reveal a low-ceilinged drawing room. The walls were tinted a pale shade of green and hung with a few simple groupings of paintings, while the furniture had clearly been chosen for ease and comfort in lieu of formality. It was a handsome, elegant house, far superior to the one she had grown up in. aWho decorated the house? Not you, surely.a He smiled at that. aMy sister Sophia. I told her it wasnat necessary, but she seemed to be of the opinion that my judgment is lacking in such matters.a aDidnat it cause gossip, for her to visit your home?a aShe always brought Sir Ross with her.a The twist of his mouth conveyed how little he had enjoyed those visits. aThe two of them also undertook to choose a household staff for me, as they werenat especially fond of my hirelings from the flash house. They particularly didnat like Blueskin or Wapping Bess.a aWapping? What does that mean?a He looked both amused and perturbed by her ignorance of the word. aIt means swiving. Frigging.a At her continuing puzzlement, he shook his head ruefully. aHaving s.e.xual relations.a Her confusion rapidly transformed into disapproval. aWhat in heavenas name would you have employed her for in this house? No, donat tell me, Iam sure I should be sorry to know.a She frowned at his amus.e.m.e.nt. aHow many servants do you have?a aEight, including Mrs. Trench.a aYou led me to believe that you were a man of limited means.a aI am, compared to Lord Westcliff. But I can keep you in a comfortable style.a aDo the other runners live in this manner?a That made him laugh. aSome do. In addition to the a.s.signments from Bow Street, most of us take private commissions. It would be impossible to live exclusively on the salary the government allots.a aCommissions such as the one from Lord Radnor?a The thought of him made Lottieas stomach twist with anxiety. Now that she was in London, easily within Radnoras reach, she felt like a rabbit that had been flushed from its burrow. aHas he already paid you for finding me? What will you do with the money?a aIall return it to him.a aWhat about my family?a she whispered apologetically. aMight something be done for them? Lord Radnor will withdraw his patronageaa Gentry nodded. aI had already considered that. Of course I will take care of them.a Lottie hardly dared to believe her ears. It was asking a great deal of any man to support his wifeas entire family, and yet Gentry seemed to accept the burden without apparent resentment. aThank you,a she said, nearly breathless with sudden relief. aThat is kind of you.a aI can be very kind,a he replied softly, agiven the right incentive.a Lottie stood still as he fingered her earlobe and stroked the hollow just behind it. A rush of heat spread over her faceasuch a small, almost innocuous caress, and yet he had found a place so susceptible that she gasped at the brush of his fingertip. He bent his head to kiss her, but she turned her face away. He could have anything he wanted of her, except that. To her, a kiss held a meaning beyond the physical, and she did not want to give that part of herself to him.

His lips touched her cheek instead, and she felt the warm curve of his smile. Once again, he showed an uncanny ability to read her thoughts. aWhat can I do to earn a kiss from you?a aNothing.a His mouth slid lightly over the edge of her cheekbone. aWeall see about that.a To most people, the dingy, well-worn Bow Street public office, smelling of sweat, bra.s.s polish, and charge-books, was not an inviting place. But during the past three years, Nick had become so familiar with every inch of the office that it felt like home. An outside visitor would be hard-pressed to believe that the small, una.s.suming buildingsa"Bow Street Nos. 3 and 4a"were the center of criminal investigation in England. Here was where Sir Grant Morgan held court and directed the force of eight runners under his command.

Wearing a relaxed smile, Nick returned the greetings of clerks and constables as he made his way through No. 3 Bow Street. It had not taken long for the force at Bow Street to appreciate his finer points, most particularly his willingness to go to the rookeries and flash houses that no one else dared to venture into. He didnat mind taking the most dangerous a.s.signments, as he had no family of his own to consider, and he wasnat particular in any case. In fact, through some quirk of his character that even Nick didnat understand, he required a frequent amount of risk, as if danger were an addictive drug that he had no hope of renouncing. The past two months of tame investigative work had filled him with a raw energy that he could barely contain.

Reaching Morganas office, Nick looked askance at the main court clerk, Vickery, who gave him an encouraging nod. aSir Grant has not yet gone to morning sessions, Mr. Gentry. I am certain that he will wish to see you.a Nick knocked on the door and heard Morganas rumbling voice. aCome in.a As ma.s.sive as the battered mahogany desk was, it appeared like a piece of childrenas furniture compared to the size of the man who sat behind it. Sir Grant Morgan was a spectacularly large man, at least five inches taller than Nickas own height of six feet. Although Morgan was fast approaching the age of forty, no hint of silver had yet appeared in his short black hair, and his distinctive vitality had not faded since the days that he himself had served as a Bow Street runner. As well as having been the most accomplished runner of his day, Morgan was easily the most popular, as he had once been the subject of a string of best-selling haapenny novels. Before Morgan, the government and the public had regarded the entire Bow Street force with the innate British suspicion toward any form of organized law enforcement.

Nick had been relieved by Sir Rossas decision to appoint Morgan as his successor. An intelligent and self-educated man, Morgan had worked his way through the ranks, beginning in the foot patrol and working his way to the exalted position of chief magistrate. Nick respected that. He also liked Morganas characteristic blunt honesty and the fact that he seldom bothered with splitting ethical hairs when a job needed to be done.

Morgan guided the runners with an iron hand, and they respected him for his toughness. His only apparent vulnerability was his wife, a small but lovely woman whose mere presence could make her husband start purring like a cat. One could always tell when Lady Morgan had visited the offices at Bow Street, leaving a bewitching trace of perfume in the air and a happily bemused expression on her husbandas face. Nick was amused by Sir Grantas obvious weakness where his wife was concerned, and he was determined to avoid such a trap. No female was ever going to lead him around by the nose. Let Morgan and Sir Ross make fools of themselves over their wivesa"he was much smarter than they.

aWelcome back,a the magistrate said, leaning back in his chair to regard him with sharp green eyes. aHave a seat. I a.s.sume your return means that you have concluded your business with Lord Radnor?a Nick took the chair across the desk. aYes. I found Miss Howard in Hampshire, working as a ladyas companion to the dowager countess of Westcliff.a aI am acquainted with Lord Westcliff,a Morgan remarked. aA man of honor and good sensea"and perhaps the only peer in England who doesnat equate modernity with coa.r.s.eness.a For Morgan, the comments were akin to wildly effusive praise. Nick made a noncommittal grunt, having little desire to discuss the many virtues of Westcliff. aAfter tomorrow, I will be ready for new a.s.signments,a he said. aI just have one last matter to clear away.a Although Nick had expected that Morgan would be pleased by the informationa"after all, he had been absent for two monthsa"the magistrate received his words in a surprisingly distant manner. aIall see if I can find something for you to do. In the meantimea"a aWhat?a Nick stared at him with open suspicion. The magistrate had never displayed such diffidence before. There wasalways something to be doneaunless the entire London underworld had elected to go on leave at the same time Nick had.

Looking as though he wanted to discuss some volatile matter but had not been given permission to do so, Morgan frowned. aYou need to visit Sir Ross,a he said abruptly. aThere is something that he wants to communicate with you.a Nick didnat like the sound of that at all. His suspicious gaze met with Morganas. aWhat the h.e.l.l does he want?a As one of the few people who knew about Nickas secret past, Morgan was well aware of the agreement Nick had made three years earlier and the difficulties between him and his esteemed brother-in-law.

aYouall have to learn that from Sir Ross,a Morgan replied. aAnd until you do, you will receive no a.s.signments from me.a aWhat have I done now?a Nick asked, suspecting that some kind of punishment was being inflicted on him. Swiftly he mulled over his actions of the past few months. There had been the usual minor infractions, but nothing out of the ordinary. He found it infuriating that Sir Ross, despite his so-called retirement, still had the ability to manipulate him. And Morgan, d.a.m.n his eyes, would never go against Sir Rossas wishes.

Amus.e.m.e.nt flickered in Morganas eyes. aTo my knowledge, youave done nothing wrong, Gentry. I suspect that Sir Ross wishes to discuss your actions at the Barthas house fire.a Nick scowled. Two months earlier, just before taking the commission from Lord Radnor, he had received an on-duty summons to run to the fashionable quarter near Covent Garden. A fire had started in a private house belonging to Nathaniel Barthas, a rich wine merchant. Being the first constable to arrive on the scene, Nick had been informed by onlookers that no one in the family had been seen to exit the burning building.

Without stopping to think, Nick had dashed inside the inferno. He had found Barthas and his wife on the second floor, overcome by smoke, and their three children crying in another room. After managing to rouse the couple, Nick had ushered them from the home while carrying the three screaming imps beneath his arms and on his back. In what seemed a matter of seconds afterward, the house had exploded into flames, and the roof had caved in.

To Nickas chagrin, theTimes had published an extravagant account of the incident, making him out to be some grand, heroic figure. There had been no end of friendly needling from the other runners, who had adopted expressions of mock worship and exclaimed adoringly whenever head entered the public office. To escape the situation, Nick had requested a temporary leave from Bow Street, and Morgan had given it to him without hesitation. Thankfully, the public was possessed of a short memory. During the past eight weeks of Nickas absence, the story had disappeared, and things had finally returned to normal.

aThe d.a.m.ned fire is irrelevant now,a he said brusquely.

aSir Ross is not of that opinion.a Nick shook his head in annoyance. aI should have had the sense to stay out of the place.a aBut you didnat,a Morgan returned. aYou went inside, at great peril to yourself. And because of your efforts, five lives were saved. Tell me, Gentry, would you have reacted the same way three years ago?a Nick kept his face smooth, although the question startled him. He knew the answer at onceano. He would not have seen the value in taking such a risk, when there would have been no material benefit in saving the lives of ordinary people who were of no use to him. He would have let them die, and although it might have bothered him temporarily, he would have found a way to put it out of his mind. He had changed in some inexplicable way. The realization made him ill at ease.

aWho knows,a he muttered with an insouciant shrug. aAnd why should it matter to Sir Ross? If I am being summoned so that he can give me a pat on the head for a job well donea"a aItas more than that.a Nick scowled. aIf youare not going to explain or give me some work, Iam not going to waste my time sitting here.a aI will not keep you, then,a the magistrate said equably. aGood day, Gentry.a Nick headed for the door, paused as he remembered something, and turned back to Morgan. aBefore I go, I need to ask a favor. Will you use your influence with the registrar to get a civil license by tomorrow?a aA marriage license?a The only sign of Morganas puzzlement was the subtle narrowing of his eyes. aDoing errands for Lord Radnor, are you? Why does he wish to marry the girl with such haste? And why would he condescend to wed in the registraras office, rather than have a church ceremony? Furthermorea"a aThe license isnat for Radnor,a Nick interrupted. The words suddenly stuck in his throat like a handful of thistles. aItas for me.a An interminable silence followed as the magistrate worked things out for himself. Finally recovering from an attack of jaw-dropping astonishment, Morgan fastened his intent gaze on Nickas reddened face. aJustwhom are you marrying, Gentry?a aMiss Howard,a Nick muttered.

A snort of disbelieving laughter escaped the chief magistrate. aLord Radnoras bride?a He regarded Nick with mingled amus.e.m.e.nt and wonder. aMy G.o.d. She must be an unusual young woman.a Nick shrugged. aNot really. Iave just decided that having a wife will be convenient.a aIn some ways, yes,a Morgan said dryly. aIn other ways, no. You might have done better to give her to Radnor and find some other woman for yourself. Youave made a considerable enemy, Gentry.a aI can handle Radnor.a Morgan smiled with an amused resignation that annoyed Nick profoundly. aWell, allow me to offer my sincere felicitations. I will notify the superintendent-registrar, and the license will be waiting at his office tomorrow morning. And I urge you to speak to Sir Ross soon thereafter, as his plans will be all the more relevant in light of your marriage.a aI can hardly wait to hear them,a Nick said sarcastically, making the chief magistrate grin.

Grimly wondering what kind of scheme his manipulative brother-in-law was devising, Nick took his leave of the Bow Street office. The sunny April day had rapidly become overcast, the air turning cool and damp. Maneuvering nimbly through the ma.s.s of carriages, wagons, carts, and animals that clogged the streets, Nick rode away from the river, toward the west. Abruptly Knightsbridge quickly gave way to open country, and enormous stone mansions on large tracts of land replaced the rows of terrace-houses built on neat squares.

As the aggressive outlines of Lord Radnoras weighty Jacobean mansion loomed before him, Nick spurred his horse to a more urgent gait. The chestnutas iron shoes crunched steadily over the long graveled drive that led to the house. The last and only time Nick had come here was to accept Radnoras commission. All business thereafter had been conducted with the earlas agents, whoad forwarded Nickas occasional reports to him.

As he felt the small weight of the enameled miniature case in his coat pocket, Nick briefly regretted the fact that he would have to return it to Radnor. He had carried it, stared at it, for two months, and it had become a sort of talisman. The lines of Lottieas face, the shade of her hair, the sweet curve of her mouth, had been carved into his brain long before he had met her. And yet the likenessa"that of a pretty but rather ordinary facea"had captured nothing of what made her so desirable. What was it about her that moved him so? Perhaps it was her mixture of fragility and valianceathe intensity that simmered beneath her quiet exteriorathe electrifying hints that she possessed a sensuality that rivaled his own.

It made Nick uncomfortable to acknowledge that his desire for Lottie was no less acute than Radnoras. And yet they each wanted her for entirely different reasons.

aNo expense is too great in my quest to create the perfect woman,aRadnor had told him, as if Lottie were destined to play Galatea to his Pygmalion. Radnoras idea of female perfection was something entirely different than Lottie. Why had he fixed his attentions on her, rather than on someone who was far more tractable? It would have been infinitely easier to dominate a woman who was submissive by natureabut perhaps Radnor was irresistibly attracted to the challenge that Lottie presented.

Arriving at the front entranceway, Nick handed the reins of his horse to a servant and slowly made his way up the flight of narrow stone steps. A butler greeted him, asked his business there, and seemed galvanized by Nickas reply.

aTell Lord Radnor that I have news about Charlotte Howard.a aYes, sir.a The butler left with circ.u.mspect haste and returned in one minute. He was slightly out of breath, as if he had run back to the entrance hall. aLord Radnor will see you at once, Mr. Gentry. If you will follow me, please.a As the butler led him across the entrance and through a narrow hallway, the mansion seemed to swallow Nick in its dark crimson interiors. It was stifling and poorly lit, though luxuriously appointed. Nick recalled that Radnor was sensitive to light. At their first meeting, he had mentioned that strong illumination strained his eyes. Now, as then, the windows were shrouded in heavy velvet that obscured every hint of daylight, and the thick carpets m.u.f.fled all sound as a servant led him deeper into the maze of small compartmented rooms.

Nick was shown to the library. The earl was seated at a mahogany table, his narrow, harshly planed face illuminated by the flame trapped in a nearby lamp.

aGentry.a Radnoras avid gaze fastened on him. He did not invite Nick to take a chair, only waved him closer, while the butler retreated and closed the door with an ineffable click. aWhat news have you for me? Have you located her? I warn you, my patience is nearly at an end.a Withdrawing a bank draft from his pocket, Nick flattened it on the table, leaving it beside the lamp. aI am returning your money, my lord. Unfortunately I wonat be able to oblige you where Miss Howard is concerned.a The earlas fingers curled, sending clawlike shadows across the gleaming table. aYou have not found her, then. You have proven yourself to be an inept fool, just like the rest. How can one insolent girl have eluded every man that I have sent to retrieve her?a Nick smiled casually. aI didnat say that she had eluded me, my lord. As a matter of fact, Iave brought her to London with me.a Radnor bolted from his chair.aWhere is she?a aThat is no longer your concern.a Suddenly Nick was enjoying himself. aThe fact is, Miss Howard has elected to marry another man. It seems that in this case, absence has not made the heart grow fonder.a aWhom?a was all Radnor seemed to be able to bring himself to ask.

aMe.a The air around them seemed saturated with poison. Nick had rarely seen such fury on another manas face. He had no doubt that Radnor would have murdered him had the means been at his disposal. Instead, the earl stared at him with the dawning comprehension that Lottie had been permanently removed from his reach.

aYou canat have her,a Radnor finally whispered, his face veined with murderous choler.

Nickas reply was just as soft. aYou canat stop me.a The muscles in the earlas face twitched in frenzied spasms. aHow much do you want? Obviously this is a means to extort money from meawell, you may have it and be d.a.m.ned. Tell me your price.a aI didnat come to have my palms greased,a Nick a.s.sured him. aThe fact is, I want her. And she appears to prefer my offer to yours.a He took the miniature of Lottie from his pocket and sent it skittering across the table, until it spun to a rest beside the earlas rigid arm. aIt seems this is all youall ever have of Charlotte Howard, my lord.a It was obvious that Radnor found the situation incomprehensible, that it was difficult for him to speak through an attack of throat-seizing rage. aYou will both suffer for this.a Nick held his gaze. aNo,you will suffer, my lord, if you accost Lottie in any way. There will be no communication with her, and no reprisal against her family. Sheas under my protection now.a He paused, and felt it necessary to add, aIf you understand anything of my history, you wonat take my warning lightly.a aYou ignorant whelp. You dare to warn me away from her? Icreated her. Without my influence, Charlotte would be a bovine in the country with a half-dozen children at her skirtsaor spreading her legs for every man who dropped a coin between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Iave spent a fortune to make her into something far better than she was ever meant to be.a aWhy donat you send me a bill?a aIt would beggar you,a Radnor a.s.sured him with raw contempt.

aSend it anyway,a Nick invited gently. aIall be interested to learn the cost of creating someone.a He left Radnor sitting in the dark room like a reptile in dire need of sunning.

Chapter Seven.

As Lottie consumed a plate of salty mutton stew, she enjoyed the serene atmosphere of the small dining room, the shining floorboards redolent with beeswax, the sideboard loaded with good white china.

Mrs. Trench appeared in the doorway, a comfortable presence with a st.u.r.dy physique, her pleasant expression tempered by a touch of wariness. Lottie sensed the questions in the womanas mindathe housekeeper was wondering if she was truly going to marry Nick Gentry, if a trick was being played on her, if the match had been made out of love, convenience, or necessityaif Lottie was a figure to be pitied or a force to be reckoned with.

aIs your dinner satisfactory, Miss Howard?a aYes, thank you.a Lottie gave her a friendly smile. aHow long have you worked for Mr. Gentry, Mrs. Trench?a aFor three years,a came the ready reply. aEver since he began working at Bow Street. Sir Ross himself interviewed me for the position, as he wished to help the master establish a proper household. Mr. Gentry is a protg of Sir Rossas, you might say.a aWhy would Sir Ross take such an interest in him, I wonder?a Lottie asked, trying to discern if the housekeeper knew about the secret kinship between them.

Mrs. Trench shook her head, seeming genuinely perplexed. aItas a great mystery, especially as they were once bitter enemies. Many people criticized Sir Ross for bringing Mr. Gentry to Bow Street. But Sir Rossas judgment has since been proven right. Mr. Gentry is the one they call for when there is the most danger involved. He fears nothing. A cool head and fast feeta"thatas what Sir Grant says about him. No one cares to find himself the object of Mr. Gentryas pursuit.a aIndeed,a Lottie said dryly, but the sardonic note in her voice escaped the housekeeper.

aA brave, bold man, Mr. Gentry is,a Mrs. Trench continued, aand no one would dispute that now, after the Barthas fire.a aWhat fire?a aYou didnat hear of it? Not long ago, the master saved a wine merchant and his entire family in a house fire. They would have perished for certain, had Mr. Gentry not rushed in to find them. TheTimes reported the story, and the master was the most talked-about man in London. Why, even the queen commended him and requested that he guard the prince consort at the annual Literary Fund dinner.a aMr. Gentry didnat mention a word about it,a Lottie said, finding it difficult to reconcile the information with what she already knew of him.

It appeared that Mrs. Trench desired to say more, but she kept her silence on the subject. aIf you will excuse me, Miss Howard, I will make certain that the guest room has been properly aired and that your things have been put away.a aYes, of course.a After finishing her stew, Lottie drank a gla.s.s of watered-down wine. Nick Gentry, risking his life for someone elseait was difficult to imagine. How much easier it would have been to think of Gentry as purely a villain. Good Lord, one could ruminate about him for weeks and still not come to a definite conclusiona"was he a good man acting as a bad one, or a bad man acting as a good one?

The wine made her drowsy. Eyes half-closed, Lottie leaned back in her chair as a footman appeared to clear the table. A humorless smile grazed the corners of her lips as she reflected on the oddity of marrying one man to avoid marrying another. The prospect of being Mrs. Nick Gentry was far more appealing than continuing to hide from Lord Radnor and his henchmen. Moreover, as Gentry had demonstrated, the arrangement would not be without its pleasures.

As she thought of his hands on her body, heat p.r.i.c.kled across her face and deep in her stomach. She couldnat help remembering the touch of his mouth on her breast. The silky brush of his hair against her inner arms. The long, rough-textured fingers slipping gently overa"

aMiss Howard.a Stiffening, she turned to the door. aYes, Mrs. Trench?a aThe guest room is ready. If you are finished with your meal, a maid will help you to change from your traveling clothes.a Lottie nodded in thanks. aI would like a bath, if possible.a Although she did not wish to trouble the maids with the task of running up and down stairs with ewers of hot water, she was dusty and sore from traveling, and she longed to be clean.

aCertainly. Shall you wish to take a shower-bath, miss? Mr. Gentry has installed one in the bathing room upstairs, with piped hot and cold water.a aHas he?a Lottie was intrigued, as she had heard of many well-to-do households that featured shower-baths, but she had never actually seen one. Even Stony Cross Park, with all its amenities, had not yet been fitted with hot-water piping. aYes, I would very much like to try it!a The housekeeper smiled at her enthusiasm. aHarriet will attend you.a Harriet was a bespectacled young housemaid with a white mobcap covering her dark hair. She was polite but friendly as she showed Lottie to the upstairs rooms. The dressing and bathing rooms branched off from the largest bedchamber, which clearly belonged to the master of the household. It contained a bed with polished, exposed wooden framework and columns supporting the amber silk canopy above. Although the bed was large, the base was lower than usual, requiring no steps to climb up to the mattress. Stealing a glance at the lavish arrangement of pillows and bolsters, Lottie felt a cramp of nervousness in her stomach. Her attention moved to the walls, which were covered with hand-painted paper featuring Chinese birds and flowers. A porcelain washstand on a tripod foot was positioned beside a tall mahogany wardrobe, topped with a small, square looking gla.s.s. It was a handsome and very masculine room.

A subtle fragrance drifted through the air, luring her to investigate. She discovered that the source of the smell was his shaving soap, contained in a marble box on the washstand. As she replaced the top on the box, a bit of soap residue transferred to her fingers, leaving them aromatic and spicy. She had inhaled this scent before, from the warm, slightly p.r.i.c.kly skin of Nick Gentryas jaw.

Good G.o.d, in less than a week, she had been wrenched from her hideaway and brought to Londonashe was standing in a strangeras bedroom, already familiar with the scent of his body. Suddenly she could no longer be certain of who she was, or where she belonged. Her inner compa.s.s had been damaged somehow, and she was unable to negotiate between what was wrong and what was right.

The maidas voice broke through her uneasy pondering. aMiss Howard, Iave started the water. Shall I aelp you into the shower-bath? The aeat doesnat last long.a Obeying the prompting, Lottie ventured into the blue-and-white tiled bathing room, noting the porcelain tub with its exposed pipes, a dressing-stand and a chair, and the shower-bath neatly fitted into the s.p.a.ce of a tall but narrow cupboard. The tight confines of the room explained why the washstand remained in the bedchamber.

With Harrietas help, Lottie undressed quickly and let down her hair. Covered in only a blush, she stepped over the raised threshold of the shower-bath. Viewing the steaming water that poured lavishly from the perforated projection directly overhead, she hesitated. A cold draft curled around her, raising gooseflesh on her skin.

aGo on, miss,a the maid encouraged, seeing her irresolution.

Taking a breath, Lottie walked straight into the fall of water, while the door closed gently behind her. A startling suffusion of heat, a moment of watery blindness, until she maneuvered far enough that her face was no longer directly in the spray. Wiping her streaming eyes with her hands, Lottie laughed in sudden pleasure. aItas like standing in the rain,a she exclaimed.

The loud spattering of water on tile made the housemaidas reply inaudible. Standing still, Lottie absorbed the exhilarating sensation, the needling warmth on her back, the steam that saturated her lungs. The door opened a crack, and a bar of soap and a sponge were extended to her. She soaped her hair and body and turned in slow circles, her face uplifted, eyes and mouth tightly closed. Hot water slid everywhere, over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and stomach, down her thighs, between her toes. It was a surprisingly sensual experience, making her feel at once enervated and relaxed. She wanted to stand there for hours. However, all too soon the water began to cool. With a regretful sigh, Lottie stepped away from the shower-stream before she became completely chilled.

aItas cold now,a she called to Harriet, who twisted the valve outside the door before handing her a towel that had been warmed on the hot-water pipe.

Shivering in the cool air, Lottie blotted her face and hair, and wrapped the towel around herself. aIf only it could have lasted a bit longer,a she said wistfully, making Harriet smile.

aIn three hours, there will be enough hot water for another, miss.a Lottie followed the maid to the adjoining dressing room, where her dark blue dress and fresh linens had been set out for her on a narrow daybed. aIt would almost be worth marrying Mr. Gentry just for his shower-bath,a she said.

The remark earned a cautiously inquiring glance from Harriet. aItas true, then, miss? You are going to marry the master?a aIt would seem so.a It was obvious that the housemaid was eaten up with curiosity but somehow managed to remain respectfully silent. Lottie dropped her wet towel and pulled on her drawers and chemise with modest haste. When she was decently covered, she sat on the velvet-covered daybed and began to tug her thick cotton stockings over her calves. She couldnat help wondering how many women had bathed and dressed and slept here. Gentryas bed must be as busy as a brothel. aI suppose youave attended quite a few female guests at Mr. Gentryas home,a she commented, reaching for a garter.

Harriet stunned her by saying, aNo, Miss aOward.a Lottie nearly dropped the garter in surprise. aWhat?a She raised her brows as she stared at the housemaid. aSurely I am not the first woman that he has brought here.a aYe are as far as I know, miss.a aBut that canat be true.a She paused and added with deliberate bluntness, aI am certain that Mr. Gentry has entertained no less than a haremas worth in his bedroom.a The housemaid shook her head. aIave never seen any ladies visit the aouseanot in that way. Oa course, after the Barthas fire, many lady admirers sent letters ana made calls.a A sly grin touched Harrietas lips. aThe aole street was filled with carriages, ana poor Mr. Gentry couldnat go through ais own front door, as a crowd waited for aim ewery morning.a aHmmph.a Lottie fastened her garter neatly over her stocking and reached for the other one. aBut heas never brought a mistress here?a aOh, no, miss.a Evidently Gentry was more scrupulous than she had expecteda"or at least, he wished to keep his home completely private. It must be that he satisfied his s.e.xual needs at a brothel, ora"distasteful thoughta"perhaps his appet.i.tes were base enough that he sought the services of alleyway prost.i.tutes. But he seemed more discerning than that. The way he touched her bespoke the appreciation of a connoisseur rather than a simple brute. Her face flamed, and she tried, as she dressed, to cover her discomfiture by asking further questions of the housemaid.