Wedded in Sin (30 page)

He sighed, and acting on impulse, he tugged her across the seat and into his arms. He heard her gasp in reaction, but her body was pliant as she settled into his arms.

“I haven’t,” he said to her hair. “I’ve looked and looked, but I haven’t found anything of value to do yet.”

“You are getting me back my inheritance.”

“I have been scheming to get you into my bed. I took you to a brothel.”

He felt her body tremble at that, but she didn’t speak. He had no idea if it was fear or anticipation.

“I am trying to be a better man, Penny. If you will but be patient with me, I will find a way to treat you as you deserve.”

“Like Sir Lancelot treated Queen Guinevere? Loving her from afar?”

“You clearly do not remember the rest of the story,” he drawled.

“I don’t care about
their
story,” she said as she pushed out of his arms. “I am not a queen. You
are
helping me. And Irene had no right to use your kindness for me to try and get you to work for us.”

“It’s not
kindness
I feel, Penny.”

“Good. Because it’s not what I feel either.” And with that, she stretched up and kissed him.

His arms wrapped around her and his renewed determination to be a good man was not proof against her body pressed to his, her lips on his mouth. Especially as she began to nip at his lips.

Lust roared through him. He was already hard. It was a chronic condition whenever they were together. But now, a wave of hunger engulfed him. Where she was still teasing at his lips, he opened his mouth and thrust into hers. She was gripping his shoulders, encouraging closeness, but he rolled over her, pressing her back against the squabs as he began to take what he wanted.

He thrust his tongue into her mouth. He slid between her knees and ground against her. She moaned in response, which pushed him to further excess. One of his hands moved easily to her breast while the other sought the edge of her gown at her shoulder. He was intent on pushing it down, on stripping her bare, and doing what he wanted without regard to anything but the way she thrust her pelvis against his and gasped his name.

But they were in a carriage, for God’s sake! All too soon they would arrive at the pub where young Ned passed his evenings. Penny was not a bored society matron reveling in a dashed tumble against the squabs. And he was not a beast to take what he wanted without regard to the woman beneath him.

But it was hard, so very, very difficult to pull himself back, to stop the way he grabbed at her gown, to force himself to sit back on the opposite side of the carriage. Especially since, even in the dark, he could see her red lips and disheveled gown. He could hear her rasping breaths, timed perfectly with his own. And he knew a thousand and one ways to manipulate her into his bed within an hour.

He knew them, but he could not. “I am a brilliant man,” he rasped, speaking more to himself than to her. “And as a brilliant man, I have the ability to punish the guilty and defend the victims. It is immoral and irresponsible for me to take advantage of those who cannot defend themselves.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?” she demanded. She had not moved an inch from where he had abandoned her for the opposite side of the carriage. Her skin was still flushed, her hair still mussed. And he was a breath away from returning to her. But her glare kept him fixed in place.

“Penny, I am trying to be honorable. I am trying to be a better man.”

“Samuel, you are the craziest toff I ever met.” And with that, she straightened up from the squabs, adjusted her clothing with swift jerks of her hands, and smoothed down her displaced curls. By the time the cab stopped at their destination, she looked as composed as any queen. And he felt as miserable as any Lancelot forced to worship his lady from afar.

Which was when he realized he was a damned idiot.

Chapter 18

Penny climbed down from the cab without even touching
Samuel’s hand. It was a pointed snub to him, but also kept her from flying back into his arms and begging him to kiss her some more. Hobnails and curs, what was she about? Begging a man to kiss her? All but spreading her legs and hiking her skirt in a hansom cab? Her gut twisted in shame. And yet even as she cursed herself as a tart, her blood hummed and her body still ached for his touch.

So it was best she keep her distance from him. Best she pretend anger at him rather than admit the truth: that she was ashamed of her own actions and her desires. And she was much too weak around him to be trusted with her own virtue.

“Ned should be inside,” he said, his voice low by her right ear. She shivered in delight at the smooth tones of his very cultured voice. Then she felt his touch at her back as he guided her toward the door, and all her anger faded away.

“But what exactly are we doing here?”

“No one knows the secrets of a man’s business better than his clerk. If we are to gain evidence against Addicock, then our best ally is young Ned. Who, by the by, is known to be sweet on the pub owner’s daughter.”

She stopped abruptly, not two feet before entering the building. “But if he’s sweet on a girl here, I cannot help you. He can’t go soft on me if he’s bent on impressing someone else.”

Samuel nodded, his expression unreadable. “If you recall, you were the one who insisted on coming—”

She cut him off. “No, never mind. There’s more than one way to turn a gent without flirting.” His eyebrows went up at that, but she waved him off. She had no wish to explain something that was obvious to her merely because she’d spent a lifetime smiling at customers while still under the eagle eye of her parents. Ned was no more and no less than any number of men she had charmed.

So she bit her lip and forced herself to face the one question that had been hovering in her mind but she had not dared ask before. “Do you really think that Addicock killed my parents?”

Samuel flinched at her words, but he remained steadfast in his answer. “He had a hand in it, I am sure, though I doubt he did the deed itself.” Then he frowned. “I just cannot understand why he says he has not profited from the theft. That is what we must learn, Penny.”

She nodded, though she’d already dismissed the question. She understood it was important to Samuel, but in her mind, Addicock was guilty. Addicock did the crime. What he
said
was a lie.

“Perhaps Ned will know.”

Samuel nodded. “That is my hope.”

“Then let’s get to it.” So saying, she rubbed her eyes hard enough to make them ache. It hurt, but when she was done, she would have red eyes and a weepy appearance. Samuel glanced at her, obviously startled, but she just shrugged and tugged her curls into a wilder appearance before stepping inside the pub.

She instantly felt at home. Though this was Shoreditch, and therefore out of her usual circle of London, she knew exactly what she was about in a pub that catered to tradesmen. This one might sport a few more lean faces, a lot more of the poet types, but all in all, she saw the clerks and the artists alike and felt right at home.

She also saw Ned at a table, laughing with his mates. She headed in the opposite direction, making a show of looking at the patrons and appearing lost and confused. Samuel understood what she was doing or he had just learned to trust her enough that he hung back. Either way, he remained a step behind her, observing without speaking, while she worked.

It took Ned less than two minutes to recognize her and jump up from his table to touch her on the arm.

“Miss Shoemaker? Is that you?”

She spun around, her eyes and her motions a little too wide. “Oh, Ned! Oh, Ned, thank heavens.” Then she took a deep breath and visibly pulled her thoughts and her body under control.

She could tell with a glance at Samuel that the man was surprised. Ned, too. Obviously few women of their acquaintance ever managed to control their emotions. But she was made of stronger stuff and Ned didn’t need a wild show from a sobbing female to be persuaded. He’d seen her a little distraught so he knew she felt things deeply. And now, he would speak to her as a rational adult and be grateful that she wasn’t a weeping, wailing woman.

“Ned,” she said gently, “I would like a word with you, if I may. I would like to tell you something that has upset me deeply, and I hope that you might be able to help.”

The boy’s eyes widened, and he nodded. She could tell they’d gotten the attention of his mates at the table and she was loath to spread all of this before his friends. Fortunately it was late enough that there were open places about the pub. With a gesture, Ned moved them to a place near the door. And as they were sitting, Samuel caught the eye of the barmaid.

“Three pints.”

Penny smiled her thanks at Samuel. She wanted the ale and was grateful he wasn’t cutting up stiff at her drinking it. Meanwhile, Ned was looking nervous.

“I don’t know what I can do. I’m just a clerk. Addicock doesn’t let me—”

She touched the back of his hand. Just a touch and then she withdrew, aware that a young woman behind the bar was watching them closely. Most likely the owner’s daughter.

“I should like to tell you what I believe, Ned. You can make your own decisions then. I am putting my faith in you, that you’re a moral man. That you go to church and you wouldn’t do anyone harm. Not if you could help it. That’s a hero in my mind, Ned. A man who stands up for what’s right.”

He nodded, his face going paler.

“Just listen,” she said gently. “Then you decide. I don’t believe that my father ever signed that will. I think it was faked. I think it was forged by Addicock and then you filed it with the courts not knowing anything was wrong with it. And then he ups and sells everything I own without a thought to me or little Tommy. Put us out on the street, he did, and kept the rest. Now I got a job with a dress shop, but it’s barely enough to keep food in Tommy’s mouth.”

Then Samuel interrupted, his brow furrowed even as he was served his ale. “But where did the money go? That’s the mystery, Ned. Why isn’t Addicock suddenly flush?”

“Ain’t no mystery,” Ned muttered as he gazed into his own drink. “Man’s always in debt. Can’t pay me this week again ’cause he owes someone else.”

Penny’s attention sharpened to painful intensity. “His debts?”

Samuel, too, had suddenly looked up. “Owes whom, Ned? Is it gambling debts? At Demon Damon’s?”

Ned shrugged. “Don’t know where. Just that a few months back it got really bad. He hadn’t been paying me and collectors coming around. Then suddenly there’s a new friend. A man named Bill. Addicock hated him, but the man was always there. Then a week later, it all is fixed. No collectors, and I got everything owed.” Then he looked her square in the eye, his expression apologetic. “But that was long before the sale of your shop. The two aren’t connected.”

“Are you sure? Was it about two months ago? Right before her parents were murdered?”

Ned slammed down his hand, his expression fierce. “There hasn’t been any murder!”

The explosion was enough to draw attention again, so Penny touched the boy’s arm. A soft press of her fingers, enough to calm him down. “Please, Ned, just listen. There has been a murder. Two of them. My parents.”

Ned shook his head. “But Addicock shakes at the sight of blood. Full-on fit. It just started happening bad, not more than…” His voice trailed off and he took a hasty swig of his drink.

Samuel finished the statement for him. “So about two months ago something happens that rattles your boss. Something that makes him shake at the sight of blood. I think he witnessed her parents’ murders. He might not have done the deed, but he knew about it. Was probably there.”

“But why would he do that?” exclaimed Ned. “Makes no sense for him to go and murder a cobbler.”

“’Course it does,” said Samuel. “Your boss gets in deep. I saw the token in his office, so we know it’s Demon Damon. He’s got no way to repay his debt. So Damon comes to him and says, make a fake will and trust. I’ll take care of everything else.”

Penny shuddered, listening to Samuel outline the cold, calculated murder of her parents.

Meanwhile, Ned couldn’t believe it. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“You mean
you
wouldn’t, Ned,” Penny said. “And you wouldn’t work for a man who did such a thing. Not knowingly at least.”

Samuel leaned forward. “Tell me more about this man Bill.”

Ned grew sullen. “Don’t know much. Just a man who came by. A lot.”

“What did he look like? Do you know his address? Did he smoke cigars or dress strangely? Anything that would help us find him?”

Ned was starting to look alarmed, shaking his head with more vehemence after every question. “I don’t know anything!”

Penny gripped the boy’s hand, just for a moment as she tried to settle him down. “It’s all right, Ned. I know you want to help.” She glanced at Samuel. “Do you think this Bill was the one to do it? That he…”

Samuel twisted his glass around, staring into the depths of his pint without drinking. “It’s possible. Or it’s possible he was just another collector. What was the last time you saw him?” he asked Ned.