A Kiss In The Dark (34 page)

“Emily—”

“Please?”

Lady Rotherby hesitated for a long moment, the turmoil clear to see in her eyes. Then, finally, she gave a reluctant nod. “Very well. I don’t like this at all, but I promise. I shall hold off telling Tristan for a few hours. And in return I need a promise from you. That you’ll stay here and not go anywhere.”

Emily nodded. “I promise.”

That didn’t appear to satisfy the viscountess. She turned to Peter, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Peter?”

He crossed his arms and inclined his head. “I promise she stays right ’ere until you come for ’er.”

“All right. Your brother and I will be back to get you this afternoon, and I expect you to be waiting.” To Emily’s surprise, the woman suddenly enveloped her in a warm, sweet-smelling hug. “I must be mad. When Tristan finds out about this … well, I only hope I’m doing the right thing.”

She wasn’t the only one.

Emily backed away from the viscountess and took in the expressions of the Rag-Tags. They were all trying so hard to look unconcerned, but their dismay was clear on their faces. All except for Peter, who avoided her eyes and stared down at the ground, hands shoved in his pockets.

How on earth was she ever going to say good-bye?

D
eirdre couldn’t believe she’d allowed Emily to convince her to continue to keep her whereabouts a secret.

Of course, it was only for a short while, she thought as she climbed the steps of her town house with Jenna at her side. But Tristan had been through so much to find her that it seemed cruel to leave him in the dark even a second longer than necessary. One look into those violet eyes so like the ones of the man she loved, however, and she’d been unable to deny the girl’s plea. No matter how guilty she felt, she’d made a promise, and she would abide by it. She also trusted Peter to keep his and make sure Emily remained where she was.

Thank goodness she’d been able to talk the girl into coming home. The outcome had been uncertain there for a while. It was obvious Emily cared for her brother, but she’d been hurt badly enough that she was still wary of him. Deirdre supposed she couldn’t blame Emily for being reluctant to leave her safe haven. She’d obviously found a home of sorts with the Rag-Tag Bunch, a place where she felt wanted and needed. It would be up to Tristan to prove that she was wanted and needed by him, as well.

Deirdre only hoped she could talk the stubborn man out of his foolish notion of turning his sister over to his aunt.

“Now, remember,” she said to Jenna as they approached the door. “Not a word about the Rag-Tags or finding Emily. We went out to take some air and that’s all. Understood?”

“Yes, m’lady.”

“Good girl.” With an approving smile, Deirdre pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Mrs. Godfrey descended on her at once. “Oh, my lady, there you are. We were wondering where you’d gotten to. You’ve been gone so long and—”

“Where the bloody hell have you been?”

The question was practically a roar, halting the housekeeper’s words and sending Jenna scurrying behind Deirdre. Deirdre herself gave a start, her hand flying to her throat as she caught sight of Tristan looming in the parlor doorway, his expression thunderous.

“Oh, Tristan,” she managed to say in a pleasant tone, struggling to keep her voice as casual as possible. “You frightened me.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” He stalked toward her, followed by a frowning Cullen, who looked just as displeased with her as Tristan did. “Do you realize you’ve been gone for almost three hours?”

Oh, dear. Had she really been gone that long? She glanced at the grandfather clock and nearly cringed to see that it was almost noon. She supposed that in the excitement of finding Emily, she’d lost track of the time.

She hurried to smooth things over. “Surely Mrs. Godfrey told you I’d gone out?”

“Yes, but she had no idea where. You didn’t even bother to take Cullen with you, and I thought you never went anywhere without him. Do you realize how dangerous it can be to wander about this city alone?”

The coachman crossed his arms and gave her a disapproving scowl over Tristan’s shoulder. Even Mrs. Godfrey seemed upset with her. Good heavens, had her own staff turned against her?

“I was fine,” she explained calmly. “I only had to run a few errands, and Jenna was with me.”

Tristan snorted. “As if she could have been of any use to you in a bad situation.”

Jenna poked her head out from behind Deirdre and glared at him. “I can too be of use. I already ’ave. I—”

“Jenna, dear,” Deirdre interrupted quickly, “why don’t you go with Mrs. Godfrey to the kitchen and have some tea and biscuits?”

“But—”

“Go on. It’s all right.”

After a second’s hesitation, the child let the housekeeper lead her away, though she kept casting murderous glances back over her shoulder at Tristan until they were out of sight.

Deirdre gave an inner sigh of relief. That had been close, but she wasn’t out of the fire yet. Tristan was far from finished with her.

Grasping her wrist, he pulled her closer, his eyes narrowing in a dangerous manner. “I shall ask you again. Where have you been?”

“I told you.” She shrugged, but avoided his probing gaze. “I had some errands to do and—”

“That does it.” Pivoting, Tristan began to drag her in the direction of the parlor, his steps purposeful. Deirdre was so surprised that at first she could do nothing but allow herself to be towed along in his wake. But after a second she began to resist, dragging her feet and trying to tug her arm from his hold.

“What on earth? Tristan, stop it! Let me go!” She glanced desperately back at Cullen, but there would be no help from that quarter. The coachman merely watched them go, a strange gleam in his eyes.

Had everyone gone mad?

As hard as she fought against it, Tristan finally managed to pull her into the parlor and slam the door. In the time it took for her to regain her equilibrium, he shot the lock home and leaned back against the panel, surveying her with brooding intent.

“Don’t ever,” he said in a slow, deliberate tone, “do that again. Don’t leave this house without letting someone know where you’re going and taking Cullen with you.”

Deirdre’s temper flared. “How dare you take it upon yourself to order me about! I’ve been on my own for quite some time now, and I don’t need—”

“I was worried.”

She halted, uncertain she’d heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

“I was worried, Deirdre. I had no idea where you were, and when you were gone for so long …” He shook his head, his expression troubled. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

Her bubble of indignation instantly burst. How could she stay angry at him when he sounded so stricken? It made her heart melt.

Walking toward him, she reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Tristan. I didn’t mean to worry you. I truly didn’t think I’d be gone so long.”

After a second, she felt his strong arms enfold her, his cheek coming to rest against her hair as he expelled a breath. “I didn’t mean to sound dictatorial. I know you’re used to going your own way. But please try to remember that there are people here who care about you and don’t want to see you hurt.”

He lifted her chin so he could stare down into her eyes. “Including me.”

Deirdre felt her breath catch. Never had a man looked at her that way before. As if she was the most important thing in the world to him.

Unable to resist, she laced her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck and drew him down for a long, drugging kiss.

That was all it took. They caught fire the way they always did whenever their lips met. Pressing herself against him, she reveled in the solidness of his big body, inhaled the spicy scent she’d come to associate only with him.

As their kisses grew hungrier, as their tongues twined over and over in a wild mating, he swept her up in his arms and carried her over to the sofa, lowering her onto the plump cushions. He followed her down, but as he started to reach for the front of his shirt, she stayed his hand, pulling back to hold his gaze with her own.

“Let me,” she murmured.

Without waiting for his approval, she went to work on his buttons, undoing them with dexterity. Then, in one smooth movement, she pushed the material down his arms, baring his broad chest for her own admiration.

Dear God, he was so beautiful, she thought, brushing a kiss to the spot just below his collarbone. Her tongue flicked out to savor his slightly salty taste, and he shuddered at the contact, filling her with a heady sense of power.

He reached for her, but she evaded his touch, pressing him back with her hands against his shoulders.

“Deirdre—” he started to protest, but she hushed him with a finger to his lips.

“Shhh,” she whispered, tracing the outline of his mouth in a seductive manner that had him groaning. “Let me do this for you. Please.”

He relaxed back against the cushions, and she leaned forward to replace her finger with her lips, tasting him deeply while her palm trailed down over the flat, firm expanse of his abdomen. She felt him tense as her hand lingered in a teasing fashion at the waistband of his breeches before dipping inside to wrap around the thick, hard length of him.

“God, Deirdre.” His breathing sped up as she continued to explore the straining tip, and when she finally peeled his breeches down past his hips and bent over to take him into the velvety heat of her mouth, he lost all control.

Catching her by the shoulders, he drew her back up to greedily devour her lips with his, his hands traveling downward to cup the globes of her breasts through her gown. She gasped as he molded their rounded contours, then plucked at the distended tips with thumb and forefinger before dragging the muslin material down her arms to free the ripe mounds for his delectation.

His mouth latched onto a nipple in a gentle suckling, and she settled herself within the indentation of his thighs and rubbed her moist cleft against his arousal, rocking her hips in a titillating fashion. It took but a few minute adjustments from him to nudge aside the barrier of her undergarments and thrust home.

The feel of him inside of her, filling her, was enough to have Deirdre releasing a quavering moan. She lifted herself and began to slide up and down his length, and he rose to meet her. The glorious friction sent her senses reeling, and with her eyes closed and her head thrown back, she rode him to a shattering completion.

Emily was worried about Peter.

Biting her lip, she studied his back as he sat before the fire, staring with an intent expression into the flames. Ever since Lady Rotherby had departed the hideout, he’d seemed strangely withdrawn. He hadn’t joined the other boys in wishing her well or in helping her to gather her few belongings together, and she had to wonder if she hadn’t done something to offend him somehow.

The mere possibility disturbed her. Rising from her place at the table, she approached him in an almost timid manner.

“Peter?” she began in a hesitant voice. “Are you angry with me?”

He started at her question, but didn’t turn to face her. “Angry? No. Why should I be?”

“I don’t know. You’ve been so quiet ever since Lady Rotherby left. I suppose I wondered if you thought I’d made the wrong decision.”

“Actually, I was just thinking that you’d made the right one.”

“Oh?”

He did look at her then, glancing back at her over his shoulder. “You’re better off away from ’ere.”

“Away from here?” She sank into the chair next to him. “What do you mean?” As the seconds ticked by and he didn’t answer, the light slowly dawned. “You
want
me to leave?”

“It’s not that I want you to leave, but it’s too dangerous for you ’ere, Em. What wiv Flynt and now Jack …” He shook his head. “If you stay ’ere. I don’t know if I can protect you. You’ll be safer at ’ome with your brother.”

Her heart clutched and she looked down at her hands folded in her lap, unable to bring herself to meet his gaze. Dear God, Peter didn’t want her here anymore! “I don’t understand.”

He shrugged. “It sounds like ’e really misses you. Just seems to me that if you ’ave a family who cares enough not to give up on you, you shouldn’t give up on them.”