The Lady Seals Her Fate (The Langley Sisters #5) (23 page)

It was dark when they reached the Red Breast. Hannah doubted the inhabitants had all found their beds, and wondered what Alex would do now. He could not force her to accompany him into the Red Breast, and if she screamed, surely help would come and she could have him restrained, which would give her time to flee. But then if she did flee, he would simply follow when he was able.

He rode into the stable and dismounted, leaving her on top of his horse. He led them along the row of stalls until he found an empty one.

“Duck,” he said.

She did, lying along the horse’s withers as they walked into the small box.

“Help me dismount please, Alex.” Hannah looked down. This horse was taller than hers, and the ground seemed a long way.

“You can stay up there until I return, and if you do manage to get down and run, Hannah, I will follow, and this time you will wish I had not caught you.”

“I wish that already,” she said, watching him close the stable door with a decisive thud, he then shot the bolt, locking her inside with his horse.

“How am I to run if the door is locked!”

“I would put nothing past you, madam!”

Taking a much-needed breath, Hannah then looked to the ground once more. If she fell it would hurt, but no more so than what she had endured from her last tumble. She attempted to slide off the horse, then was halted rather abruptly as her coat and skirt caught on the pommel. Pulling the coat free, she was not so lucky with her dress, and it tore.

“Why am I surprised?” Hannah muttered.

Her body hurt, her wrist throbbed, but fear and anger were keeping the pain to a manageable thud. She had to convince Alex to let her leave, if not tonight, then at first light with the stage. It was the only way to protect him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Alex organized a room, had Hannah’s bags taken up to it, and explained to the proprietor that she was his wife and they had been quarrelling, but had now reunited. It seemed she was not the only one with theatrical tendencies. He then threw enough money at the man to stop him asking questions and opening his mouth to the other guests, who were all still eating and supping ale with their ferrets.

Stalking back to the stable, he thought about the woman who awaited him. That fall must have caused her pain, yet she had simply brushed it off, raised her chin and walked back to her horse, determined to leave him once more. He would have laughed if he still knew how. Although his fears had eased, anger still simmered. She should have trusted him.

Reaching the stable, he took the saddle off her horse and gave him food and water before throwing the bolt on the stable door he’d locked her in, and walking back inside.

“What the hell are you doing?” Standing on her toes, she was wrestling with his horse’s head.

“Removing its headwear.”

The horse was not impressed, throwing his head upward repeatedly, dislodging her hands. Alex stepped forward before she got hurt.

“Why?”

“Because he cannot be comfortable wearing that and its seat.”

“Bridle and saddle,” Alex said, lifting her to one side before deftly removing first the bridle, and then the saddle.

“I don’t care what they are called,” she snapped. “I was attempting to help him, but he seemed determined to refuse my help.”

“Wise boy.” Alex left the stable to get water and feed. Returning, he was surprised to see Hannah where he’d left her, as he’d half expected her to make a run for it.

“There is no need to be insulting, Alexander.”

“There is every bloody need, Miss Wooller. Now be quiet until we enter our room, as I have no wish for your travelling companions to come to the aid of the governess whose friend makes her clothes from nobles’ castoffs, who is now travelling to Bristol to meet up with her actor father and join his travelling show where she will play Miranda in
The Tempest
!”

That shut her up. Taking her elbow, he towed her from the stable and into the Red Breast. They did not encounter anyone as they walked up the stairs to the room the proprietor had given him. Opening the door, he nudged Hannah inside and followed. Locking the door, he pocketed the key.

He was pleased to see steam rising off the bath water and a tray of food awaiting them, as he had requested.

“Talk, food, or bath?” he said in a clipped tone. She ignored him and walked to the window. Back rigid, she looked out at the night sky.

“You should not have followed me.”

“Did you really believe someone wouldn’t, Hannah? Are you that foolish to think that the combined resources of your father and myself, plus our friends, would not be able to locate you if we chose to?”

“Y-you told someone else what I had done?”

“Hannah, you told us you were in danger. Surely you had to realize that we would not stop until we had found the threat, and to do that we had to have help. Luke, Ace, Will, and my brothers were needed.”

“No.” She shook her head, fear filling her face. “You must not, he…” Her words fell away.

“Who? The man who was blackmailing you? Is that the he in question? We already know of him.”

Her face was so pale Alex thought she may faint. “No, you all must stay away from him, Alex, h-he is a horrible person and capable of n-nefarious deeds. You don’t know what he will do if—”

“I know he killed Lionel Jacobs before your eyes, Hannah, and once your footman gave us the parcel you left him to deliver, we went to meet with him.”

“Dear Lord.” She collapsed against the wall. Sliding down it, she slumped to the floor, her legs folding beneath her in an inelegant heap. Her skirts rode up her long legs, exposing silk stockings and dirty black ankle boots.

“We confronted him, and then he and I exchanged a few words, and now he is in the hands of Ace, Luke, and Will, and will be no further danger to you.”

“I-I…” She shook her head. “You should not have.”

“He murdered a man before your eyes. Did you expect me to pat him on the back, Hannah? Because of him you have a memory that will take some time to fade.”

“I expected you not to find out who he was. I expected you not to locate me, and…” She ran out of words, her head now resting against the wall. “Are my father and Bridgette well, Alex?”

He nodded. “They are well, and your father knows everything, Bridgette only that you fled London due to something.”

“Surely you must see I had no choice but to run?”

Her whispered words inflamed him. “You should have run to me!” Bloody hell. He was either angry or laughing with this woman. Rarely was there anything comfortable between.

“I could not.”

“And what about when we made love, did you do so in gratitude?”

“No!” Her head snapped upright. “How could you think such a thing?”

“How could I not? You were in my arms one night, and gone the next; what did you expect me to think?” Alex began to pace, at least then he would not grab her and shake her until her teeth rattled. “To wake and find you had fled London, leaving behind a note, with a few pitiful words—”

“They were not pitiful,” she denied, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. It was a defensive gesture, but Alex didn’t care. He would have his say, and she would bloody well listen.

“The entire story is extremely complicated, therefore I shall say only that the danger was too great for me to remain in London,” Alex growled. “What did you expect me to think, to feel, after reading those words?”

“I-I had hoped…” She lowered her eyes.

“You asked me to help you,” Alex said when she did not continue. “Asked me to be your beau, and then proceeded to lie to me the entire time. Notes, blackmailers, what else have you not told me?”

“You are not my beau; it was make-believe—”

“This is not a fairy tale, Hannah, nothing is make-believe and after what happened between us. This,” Alex pointed to her then stuck the finger into his chest, “is very real.”

“I did not need to tell you anything.”

“And what of the danger to me?”

She inhaled and he knew there was more she was not telling him.

“Tell me.”

She shook her head so he moved closer, deliberately intimidating her by standing over her. “Tell me now, or I will never let you leave this bloody room, and we will be trapped in here together for days.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” She tried to look defiant, but failed horribly. Her hair had come down, her face was smudged with dirt, and she looked far removed from the woman he’d encountered daily in London. This one was tired, hurting, and in need of comfort, but Alex could not find that in him at the moment. He had no empathy, only anger, and she was his outlet.

“Hannah.” He crouched before her. “I beat up a man for you, I have ridden for days with little food and sleep. My brother is God knows where, also searching for you, and I am in no mood to be toyed with.”

“The man who blackmailed me, he was responsible for hitting you over the head.” She looked at him, begging him to understand why she had done what she had. “Can’t you see, Alex, I could not risk him hurting you further.”

“He is but one man, Hannah, and I have many at my back. Strong men, who would be there should I need them, and there for you also. You should not have shouldered this alone. It could have been you he murdered.”

“No, he would have had no use for me dead.”

Alex closed his eyes at the thought of her dead. The pain took his breath away.

“Alex,” she whispered. “I had to run, surely you see that?”

He felt his anger begin to ease as he looked at her. “I will never see that, but it is done with now, we are all safe and I have you.” Her tears started to fall as he cupped her cheeks. “Hannah, I was scared for you, do you understand that?”

“Y-yes, as I-I was for you.”

Standing he reached for her, and seconds later she was pressed to his chest. She wept, hot tears for the violence she had witnessed, for the pain of leaving those she loved. He cupped her head, placed a hand around her shoulders and held her close until her tears finally eased to sniffles. Only then did he release her.

“Come, you need to wash and get into your nightdress, then we shall eat.”

“I-I can’t do that with you in the room.” Her eyes were red and she looked pathetic, but to his eyes she was beautiful, which told him just how much he cared for her.

“I’ve seen your breasts and touched other parts of you, I think it’s a bit late for modesty, sweetheart.”

She looked at the bath then back to him, and he saw the longing.

“Turn your back.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“I will just look through my fingers, so for pity’s sake, woman, just get in the water.”

He watched her wince as she began to take down her hair with one hand. With the last pin removed, it tumbled in a black, silken cloud to her waist. It was thick and soft and he wanted to sift it through his fingers. Her hands moved to the buttons of her coat and he heard her indrawn breath.

“You did hurt yourself,” Alex said, pushing her hands aside and finishing the buttons before easing her coat from her shoulders. “Let me see.”

She held out her arm and he saw the swelling around the wrist.

“Is it very sore?” He probed the tenderness.

“No, mainly when I move it.”

“Then don’t move it,” Alex said, turning her gently. He lifted the dress over her head, then threw it on the bed. Next he removed her chemise.

“This is not right,” she whispered as he looked at her lovely body. He had only seen her in the moonlight before, but the lamp showed him her beauty. The soft, creamy skin, long limbs, luscious breasts.

“It’s very right,” Alex rasped, placing a hand around her neck and easing her forward for a long passionate kiss. When he pulled back, his body was aroused. “You are beautiful, Hannah; I know of no woman your equal.” Dropping to his knees, he removed her boots and rolled her stockings down her legs, before easing her legs apart and licking the plump folds of her thighs.

“Alex!”

“I believe I’ve already told you I’m not a gentleman.” Alex looked up her body. “Now let me pleasure you, Hannah, let me make you forget for a while.”

Her long lashes briefly lowered. “I fear I will never forget.”

Alex knew she was seeing Lionel Jacobs’s murder once more, but he said nothing. Instead, leaning forward, he placed his mouth on her. She sighed and moaned, her hand fisted in his hair, and when he pushed two fingers deep inside her she shuddered and came apart.

“Oh, Alex.”

“We have only begun to explore what is between us, my sweet.” Alex regained his feet. He then kissed her slowly as he walked her backward until her thighs touched the bed. “Will you let me love you again, Hannah?”

“Oh, Alex, I have never felt anything so wonderful as that night.”

“Nor I,” he breathed against her lips. He pushed her back, and she lay on the bed while he tore off his clothes. Braced on her elbows, she watched him, her eyes running over his body.

“You are a beautiful man.” She sat upright, reaching for him, running one hand up his chest. Alex had been touched by women before, but Hannah’s touch was like a brand on his skin. Her fingers left a trail of heat wherever they roamed, and when they gripped the hard length between his thighs, he could do nothing to stop the moan.

“It feels soft, yet hard all at once.”

“Be gentle,” he rasped as she stroked him. “Christ, that feels good.”

She frowned in concentration as her hand tormented him. Twining his fingers in her hair, he tugged, and her lips met his. His mouth ravaged hers but it was not enough, he needed more of her, needed to be inside her now.

“Lie down, Hannah.”

She did as he asked and then he was above her, looking down at the beautiful stubborn woman who drove him a little mad, and whom he would have no other way. He cared for her. Mother of God, he loved her, Alex realized.

Settling between her open thighs with a full heart, he pushed inside her, the damp, silken muscles clenching around him as he drove high and deep. Her breath caught, his came out in a rush, and then he was pulling out to drive in again and again. She wound an arm around his neck and gripped his hair, the small sting of pain urging him on until they were both panting, both moaning, both scaling the summit together.