The Lamplighter's Love (8 page)

“Mary,” Nicholas said, tugging gently at her
hands until she stopped. “Mary. Of course I would have known,
darling.”

“But I hadn’t even said I love you back
yet,” she wailed, mortified to realize that tears were splashing
over their combined fingers.

“You were rather overcome by events at the
time,” he said, having the decency to look a little sheepish. “But
I knew. I’ve known for a long time. Probably longer than is
remotely proper, given your age.”

“That could have just been hero-worship,
Nicholas.”

“But it wasn’t. And do you want to know a
secret?” He leaned in, as though their conversation might feasibly
be overheard. “I knew I felt the same. Even before that day you
started coming down here and working in your underthings.”

“Sir! How scandalous. I’m shocked.” She
fluttered her eyelashes, then reminded herself sternly that she was
supposed to be telling him goodbye forever. Flirting was not
usually a component of that. “But Nicholas, I’m not cut out to be a
countess. I don’t even know when to pour the wine, or which fork to
use, or what a second footman is for. My parents were hardly poor,
but we certainly weren’t quality. You need somebody who can help
you. Who knows what to do in society.”

“No.”

“But don’t you see, you can’t just—”

“No,” he insisted. “I don’t need that. Or
perhaps I do, but I don’t need it in a wife. And I don’t give a
rat’s arse if you’re from quality. Heaven knows I’m not. But we can
hire people to teach us all that. As much as we need to know,
anyway. I’m not altogether certain I want to spend much time in
society.”

“No, it sounds dreadful,” Mary concurred.
“The dresses are pretty though.”

“And you shall have those, I’ve told you.
You’ll spend so much time being fitted you’ll never want to see
another pin. I won’t have anybody mistaking my countess for a
charwoman.”

She smiled, not at the idea of dresses but
at the deliberately solemn face Nicholas was making. And then
sadness penetrated her consciousness, filling her with dread once
again. “Nicholas, there’s more. Amberherst. He’s a little mad, I
think. He says he’ll force me to stay, to take the position, and if
I try to do anything else he’ll . . .”

Nicholas was looking at her with such trust,
such loving concern, that Mary found herself choking up as she
forced the words from her mouth. “He’ll destroy both our
reputations. Spread the rumor that for the past two years I haven’t
been your student, I’ve been your . . . that thing you said, that
you had money for in your contract. He’ll imply that the guild
arranged it that way, arranged for one of their own members to . .
. and,” she rushed on as he opened his mouth to interrupt, “he’s
paid the innkeeper at the Pig to back him up. We made it easier for
him.
I
made it easier for him. Oh Nicholas, I’m so
sorry!”

She flung herself toward him, easing her
sorrow against his firm shoulder, if only for a precious few
moments of solace before the cold, hard truth must be faced.

Nicholas wrapped his arms around her,
stroking the back of her neck, murmuring reassurances.

“He
said
all that to you?” Nicholas
asked when her sobs had begun to wane.

Mary nodded against his shoulder. “Once
after the Elder masters met with us, and then again this morning.
He twisted my arm too. Literally. I had to . . . well, do him a
damage in order to get away.”

She felt his arms tighten around her until
she could scarcely breathe.

“I’ll kill him,” he whispered into her
hair.

It was sweet to hear, she had to admit, but
sadly impractical. “That would probably be unwise.”

“True. Tempting, however. What sort of
damage did you do him, anyway?”

She blushed furiously. “I struck him hard
with my fist. In the, er, area where men are particularly
vulnerable.”

Nicholas pulled away to stare at her in
disbelief before bursting into laughter. “You punched him in the
bollocks? Amberherst?”

She nodded, still blushing but unable to
hold back a little smile. “Well, in that general region, yes. It
was very effective.”

“I’d imagine it was,” he agreed, wiping a
tear from one eye.

“He roared like a bear,” Mary added. “I
shouldn’t wonder if half the ladies on the hall heard him
bellowing.”

“Wait. The ladies? He did this where?”

“In the hallway outside my room. He was
waiting when I came out to go to breakfast. It was early though, I
imagine some of the masters were still sleeping.”

He looked thoughtful, lifting a hand to his
chin and stroking for a moment in silence. “I think it’s time for
you to start your shift, Master Mary,” he said at last, leading her
to the Chair and beginning to strap her hands into place.

“Nicholas, what are you planning? Please
don’t kill Amberherst. It wouldn’t be worth it.”

“Darling, never you fear.” He gave her a
quick kiss, and then a more meaningful one, obviously regretting
the moment he had to drag himself away. As he lowered the screens
into place, he smiled as though he had a delightful secret.

“What are you going to do?” she demanded,
even as she started to scan the mirrored streams of information
before her.

“See to it that Amberherst is hoist on his
own petard. And I think I know just the way to do it. I’m off to
see Cyrus Smith, dearest. I’ll miss you terribly while I’m
gone.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’m still not telling you. And leave that
alone.” Nicholas pulled Mary’s fingers away from the knotted scarf
with which she was currently blindfolded. With an exasperated huff,
she let him take her hand and hold it as the driver of the sleek
little steamcar navigated through several more turns.

At last, hissing and whistling as its boiler
was eased, the vehicle rattled to a stop and Nicholas lifted the
blindfold away. Mary blinked a few times, and then looked around
curiously. She saw nothing, only a rather pleasant curved street of
attractive stone and brick buildings. A few people were walking
here and there on the pavement, clearly bound to or from holiday
gatherings. Their heavy cloaks and greatcoats in no way disguising
the obvious quality of their apparel.

“I still don’t know where we are,” Mary
said, turning to Nicholas.

“Mayfair.”

“I see. And why are we in Mayfair?” She
didn’t want to complain. But it had been a long day, with her shift
that morning following a nearly sleepless night, and the stress of
the altercation with Amberherst on top of it all. And, she suddenly
remembered, it was Christmas Eve. “Did you know it was Christmas
Eve?”

“Yes. Didn’t you?”

“Honestly, I’d forgotten all about it. Are
you going to tell me? Why do you keep smiling like that?”

“I could tell you, but I would much rather
show you, and it’s hardly the weather for sitting out on the
street.” He nodded to the driver, who hopped out of his seat in the
cab of the smart little vehicle to open Mary’s door.

Nicholas was waiting, arm poised for her to
take, and he led her up the steps to the nearest door before
brandishing a key with a happy little flourish.

“You have a key to it?”

“I do.” He opened the door and gestured for
her to precede him into the echoing marble foyer. Gas lights were
already burning, revealing the high polish of the stone and the
luminous wood of the stairway and banister that curved elegantly at
one end of the long, vaulted space.

After a moment, he raised his eyebrows in
expectation. “Well? What do you think?”

“It’s lovely,” she said. “What is it?”

“A house.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

“I bought it this afternoon. I’ve had an
agent looking for something suitable for some time now, actually.
But the deal was closed today.”

Mary’s world spun around for a moment, but
Nicholas was still there waiting, smiling, when she regained her
equilibrium.

“Come and sit on the stairs and admire it
with me for a few minutes while I tell you about the rest of my
afternoon,” he suggested cheerfully, leading her to the bottom step
where she sat down more heavily than she meant to.

“This afternoon, while you were in the
Chair,” he said, sitting next to her and stretching his long legs
out before him, “I went to have that talk with Master Smith. Who
had already had some complaints, it seems, about the incident in
the residential hall this morning. Evidently the first person upon
the scene was Master Temple, who was none too pleased to have to
deal with Amberherst, clutching his privates and attempting to
defame you, before she’d had so much as a sip of coffee.”

“Oh, she’s very cross before breakfast,”
Mary confirmed.

“She frogmarched the lad straight to Smith’s
office, where he pouted and stewed and made threats about what his
father would do when he found out. That went on a good hour or so,
according to Cyrus. And then, by happy chance, another complainant
arrived. One might say another nail was hammered into Amberherst’s
coffin, and the hammer was wielded by none other than young
Jocelyn. Apparently she’s none too pleased with Amberherst.”

Mary nodded. “I expect not. He planned to
keep her as a mistress while he married up in an attempt to
ingratiate himself with the
beau monde
. A respectable member
of the Lampworkers, with every prospect of mastery within the next
year, and he thought she would agree to that? It was absurd.”

“His plan might have worked better if he
hadn’t already pledged to marry Jocelyn. Not secretly either. Her
parents were in favor of the match. Of course, they’re ready to
charge him with breach of promise now. So by the time I enlightened
Master Smith about Amberherst’s threats to you, and pointed out how
badly the scandal would reflect not only on the two of us but on
the guild itself, he had already had enough. He contacted
Amberherst’s father. And I suspect Amberherst will find, when he
leaves his shift this evening, that he is no longer a candidate for
adoption by the future Duke.”

Mary tried to take it all in. All the
emotion, the uncertainty of the past few days, and the changes she
knew had been wrought in her. It was too much, all of it. For now,
it was enough just to breathe, and hold Nicholas’ hand, and allow
herself a tiny, hopeful inkling of relief.

“Smith has also been negotiating with
Manchester to send a lamplighter they’ve been training there. He’s
quite good, apparently. But you should know that I wouldn’t leave
until old Cyrus promised the position would be yours if you wanted
it. The true position, I mean. Just as it was. I think he’s seen
the potential dangers of trying to groom a Lamplighter to mingle
with the
ton
on his off hours.”

She thought about it, the job she had
trained to do, had been selected for years ago, before she even
knew what the lamplighters did. It had seemed the pinnacle of
achievement, her obvious ambition in life. The thing she had been
meant to do.

But now? Now, it seemed like ten long years
without Nicholas. She wouldn’t have minded the isolation, the
hours, the responsibility. She might, in fact, even miss her time
in the Chair, sitting Godlike and watching, controlling, as all of
London rolled by in an endless equation.

She wouldn’t miss it nearly as much as she
would miss Nicholas if she took the job, however. It was a
difference of magnitudes.

“I don’t want it anymore.”

He sighed and clasped her hand a little
tighter in his. Then he brought it up to his lips to press a kiss
to the back of each finger. And to her palm. And to her wrist,
which made her shiver with pleasure.

She felt something cool on her finger, and
dragged her eyes away from Nicholas’ face to her hand. A slender
band of gold gleamed on one finger, supporting a sapphire ringed
with tiny, glittering diamonds.

“Do you want me, Mary? Or should I have
asked before I gave you the ring, to be sure?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” she said
softly. “I would want you even without the ring. But I’ll keep it
if it’s all the same to you.”

They chuckled, leaning together to let their
joy dissolve into kisses. Teasing at first, playful and glancing.
And then deeper, as Nicholas angled her head just so, to take her
mouth with his tongue.

“I want to take you to Gretna Green as soon
as the guild releases us,” he murmured when they parted for
air.

“In case there’s a child?”

“No,” he assured her, “because for once I’d
like to make love to you without having to go back to work directly
afterward. I’d like to keep you up all night and make love to you
over and over.”

Mary whimpered as Nicholas scraped his teeth
over the delicate skin beneath her ear. It set that entire side
tingling, and she could have cried all over again at the
frustration of knowing it could only be a tease for now.

Nicholas, however, clearly had other plans.
He shifted her, pulling her around and shoving up her skirts until
she was straddling his lap. She could feel his arousal, his cock
pressing for release against his trousers. His hands were already
busy elsewhere, shoving her cloak and jacket off her shoulders,
untying her chemise to reveal the tops of her breasts.

“The driver—” she began, straining to
maintain some shred of propriety.

“Has been sent away and told that he is
under no circumstances to return in less than one hour,” Nicholas
said, before flicking his tongue against the hint of pink at the
edge of the fabric where her underthings nearly revealed her
nipple. “I want to do this someday with you in only your corset.
Don’t let me forget.”

“I won’t.” She gasped as his hands found the
gap in her drawers and delved beneath the muslin to find her wet,
eager cunt. Not to be outdone, Mary reached for the front of his
trousers and managed to work his cock free even as he worked his
fingers inside her.