Her Reluctant Viscount (Rakes and Rogues) (30 page)

“What did you say?”

“He is a woman.”

“No way.”

“I am neither delusional nor insane, Tryst.”

“How,” he demanded. “How do you know this?”

“She came to the cells the first night I was there.” His expression changed and she knew what was coming next.

“It was your imagination, Jo. After everything you had been through, your mind was merely playing tricks.”

“No. No.” She tried to protest but he ignored what she tried to tell him.

Beyond frustrated, she left the closeness of the swing and headed for the bed where Vittoria slept. He captured her hand and tugged until he had her between his legs.

“Let me go.” She bit out the command.

“Jo, I know you think you—”

She jabbed a finger in his chest. “I know. I may have gone through hell, but it does not change what I know to be true.”

“The Alchemist is a man.”

“Why? Because women do not do such things? Incapable? What?”

“Women are…” He trailed off and shrugged.

Fury rushed over her. “Good for nothing but allowing a man betwixt her thighs?”

“I said no such thing.” He rumbled the words at her.

“Let me tell you something, you arrogant man. You seem to forget one thing, I have been in the
ton
with them, and they are more capable of things like this than you can imagine. The one who set people after family, a woman. How many mistresses have you had to pay off and hope they do not make trouble for you again? Do not
ever
presume to tell me my mind or that a woman is not capable of something.” She jerked free and stepped back.

He observed with a wide gaze. “And here I was afraid my hellcat had gone into hiding.”

“Make no mistake, I am no hellcat, and I am
not
yours.”

She whirled away and climbed in bed with Vittoria. Her previous pain nonexistent when she realized how truly little he respected her or her opinions. Part of her died in that moment. She closed her eyes and held Vittoria as she curled against her.

When she woke, her heart was heavy. All those years of pinning over Trystan, only to find he thought so little about her opinion. Or fact as it was in this place. She braided Vittoria’s hair and hugged her.

“What happens to me?” The question was hushed and uncertain.

“You come with me. We will find your parents and get you home.”

“How?”

With a reassuring smile, she said, “My parents will help.”

Eyes older than they should be peered back at her. “Sure?”

“Of course. We will get you home, I promise. Trystan, Lord Wilkes, is very good at his job also. He is helping to get you home as well.”

Beautiful. Her brown gaze did not even spark with hope. Jo glanced up to see Trystan waiting there. He stared at her before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

“You do not have to worry about anything now, Vittoria. You are safe now. And free.”

“No. Never free.” There were no tears from the child but Jo had them. Her heart wept for this girl.

They docked and disembarked together. Jo could not begin to describe her relief at being back in London. She squeezed Vittoria’s hand as they made their way to a hack. Her belly clenched tightly with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.

On the one hand, she would soon be home. On the other, she was returning with trouble following her.
Because Trystan will not take my warning seriously.
She forced back her anger at that. Maybe she would try to convince him later once more. The problem with that remained she had no idea how long she had before that bitch showed up.

Tilting her head, she descried Vittoria as she stared out at London’s passing streets. The people. The hustle. All of it a lot for a child who had spent the past two years in a cell.

When they finally stopped before her place, she hesitated. Tryst exited first and turned back, his hand out in offering. She gave him Vittoria and followed on her own without his assistance. The expression on his face told her he was aware she wished to avoid any physical contact with him.

Inside, away from any prying eyes, she was welcomed home by the staff. More importantly, she learned her parents were still on their trip. She faced Tryst, Vittoria’s hand firmly in hers.

“Thank you, Lord Wilkes, for seeing me home.”

She began to walk away only to stop with his hand on her. Refusing to turn, she waited for him to speak.

“I have to find Jack then I will be back.”

With a shrug, she pulled free and headed deeper into the townhome. Jo kept herself together through the staff fawning over her, settling Vittoria in a room with a bath and clean clothes, and through the prep for her own bath.

Alone in the heated water she fell apart. Sobs racked her body as she did what she had before. Get it all out. The things she went through, killing to stay alive, and even giving herself to Trystan. She washed without much thought.

The water had begun to cool when a knock sounded on her door. “Leave me alone,” she whispered.

They did not hear her and the door swung open. Clara stepped through, her plump face full of concern. Tears sparkled as she hurried to the tub.

“Jo! Thank heavens. I was so worried.”

“How did…”

“Lord Wilkes stopped by to let me know. He said I should give you some time but I had to see you for myself.” A slight purse of her lips. “Would you like me to leave?”

“No.”

Clara dipped a finger in the water and frowned. “You need to get out.” She grabbed a large towel and held it up. “Come on.”

Jo rose and stepped dripping from the tub to the towel. As she dried off, Clara got her a dressing gown. Soon she sat wrapped before Clara as her friend brushed the knots from her hair.

“How did you fare with Captain Bottomley?”

“He is stubborn and hard headed. But he kept me safe.”

Jo smiled at the affection in her friend’s tone. “You like him.”

“I think I am in love with him.” A short pause. “He has told me he wants to marry me.”

Reaching behind her, Jo squeezed Clara’s wrist. “Did you accept?” Clara did not respond so she turned to look at her friend. “Clara?”

“I am not here to talk about me.” Two fingers brushed her bruised cheek. “I came to check on you.”

While she was extremely grateful her friend had come by, she would not be sharing some things with her. “I would rather hear about you and Royce.”

Clara stared at her before giving a small nod. As she brushed, Clara told her of her adventure with the handsome Royce Bottomley. They changed topics when Vittoria came knocking. The child fell asleep in Jo’s bed as Clara now braided her hair.

“People are sick. That poor child. Can we help her?”

“I am looking for her parents. Or rather Tryst is.” Hair braided, Jo faced her friend.

“She is a little younger than Pug.”

“I have noticed that too, Clara. Maybe she would be happy around someone closer to her own age. I will take her with me when we go to the country.”

Clara nodded. “Does Najja know you have returned?”

“No. I want to leave for the country tomorrow. I will go see her then.”

Clara peeked at Vittoria before lowering her voice even more. “What about you and Trystan?”

“What about us?”

“All those nights alone…” Clara trailed off.

She flushed and ducked her head. Her friend released a soft squeal and grabbed her hands.

“Was he as you had dreamed?”

Jo blinked. Clara knew of her desire for Trystan. It was something not even Najja knew. So to deny it now to the one person who knew was foolish.

“Better,” she admitted.

Clara’s eyes widened. “So you…”

“Only once.” She shrugged and amended, “only one night. It was nothing like some have said, lying stiff beneath their husband. I felt…amazing.” She sobered. “At least now I know how it feels.”

“He has not mentioned marriage?”

A burst of disbelieving laughter emerged. “Marriage? Not even close. When it comes to me, his words are usually more akin to ‘mistake’ and ‘never happening again’, not words of love.”

“Jo, I am so sorry.”

“Why?” She did not want her friend’s pity. “I am the crazy fool who fell for him all those years ago. I knew how he felt.” She took a deep breath. “Now tell me, have you?”

Clara’s face flamed like an apple in the sun. Jo chuckled as she ducked her head.

“You want to though, am I right?”

“Yes. Oh, Jo. I have the most sinful dreams about him.”

Jo nodded with understanding.

“Do you think me crazy?”

“Why?” Jo frowned in confusion.

“He has only one arm.”

“He served his king and country. Besides, he seems more than capable.”

Clara’s blush deepened. “Jo!”

“You would disagree?”

“No, but…”

“I know. It is not proper.”

“You like making me blush,” Clara accused.

“True. But it is so easy.”

Their banter continued until Vittoria woke. After Jo dressed, they went down to grab a bite to eat. It truly was no surprise when the butler announced Captain Royce had arrived.

“Glad to see you home safe, Miss Adrys,” he said upon entering.

“Thank you, Captain. Would you care to join us?”

“It would be my honor.” He reach for Clara’s hand, bowed, and brushed a kiss over it. “Hello again, Miss Field.”

A stab of longing hit Jo as she observed the affection between the two. Clara fairly glowed and Royce, well, she may not know him the best but his attraction toward Clara was undisputable. Despite the emptiness she felt, Jo was truly happy for them both. They ate dinner after which she cornered Royce while Clara tried to get Vittoria to open up.

“Might I ask a favor, Captain?” She chewed on her lower lip and sighed. “Are you able to escort myself and Vittoria to Kittle Manor tomorrow?”

“Tryst knows you are leaving?”

“With all due respect, Captain, I feel safer there and I have no idea how long Lord Wilkes will be gone.”

She knew he did not believe her. Still, bless him, he nodded in acquiescence.

“Thank you.” Her thanks were heartfelt as she truly wished to return to Kittle Manor and begin the healing process.

“You know he will follow, right?”

She knew and merely shrugged. It did not matter, she was one step closer to recovery.

Trystan sat in the tall wingback, waiting for Jack to arrive. His mind remained solely focused on Jo and how she was doing. He wanted to be with her. There was so much for them to talk about.

His shaft stirred at the extremely vivid memory of her in his arms. God, it had been unlike anything he had experienced before. They were perfect together. Inside his breeches, he hardened and he ripped his mind from Jo, willing his body to calm down.

By the time Jack arrived—twenty minutes later—he was under control. More than that he was irritated. Night had fallen and he would not get back to Jo today.

“You are a lucky bastard,” Jack said walking to his seat behind the desk.

“Really? How so?” He rotated his shoulder refusing to let the injury stiffen him up.