Authors: Tiffany Clare
“You are not leaving, Amelia.” His declaration calmed her somewhat, though the distress
she’d always felt in her brother’s presence still threatened to strangle her. The
urge to run again was so strong that she glanced out the window, seriously thinking
about leaving this instant. She could go to Edinburgh; perhaps that was where should
have gone. No, then she wouldn’t have met Nick. He was the best thing to happen in
her life.
While being in Nick’s arms kept the panic at bay, she knew it would overwhelm her
when he wasn’t around to keep her feeling safe. How could she stress how terrible
a person her brother was? How could she stress how dangerous his friends were? Would
they be looking for her too? She couldn’t bear to think about that. One problem at
a time was all she could handle without shutting down and letting the fear bury her.
“I can see the wheels turning in your head, trying to formulate excuses.” Nick thumbed
away the tears that wetted her cheeks. “Your brother is no different from some of
the men I have dealt with. I can protect you better than you can protect yourself
if you try to run. But run, Amelia, and I will follow you.”
She heard the warning in his voice and wouldn’t dare disobey it. “There’s nothing
inside him. No love, no happiness, just this deep hatred that allows him to do horrible
things. He is cold and calculating, and he has always done as he pleases, Nick. If
he found me walking with Devlin, he may already know where I live. He may try to hurt
someone else at the house.”
“Let me handle your brother. He will wish he had stayed in Berwick.”
Nick’s hand caressed her arm up and down; the constant motion helped her breath calmly.
When she had her emotions under control, they went inside and locked themselves in
the library. Nick sat on the sofa next to her.
“When Devlin came to you,” Amelia said, “my leaving was not a consideration, was it?”
“Your brother doesn’t scare me.” He leveled that intense gaze of his on her, and she
believed him. “I have known people far worse than you could imagine.”
She couldn’t be so sure of that. “And what about Devlin? Tell me what happened to
him.”
“Nothing more than a scuffle that resulted in a black eye.”
Amelia felt her lip tremble. Poor Devlin, he didn’t deserve the violence that had
befallen him. And she hated that she’d been the cause of that. She needed to make
Nick understand what kind of man her brother was. “Jeremy always finds ways to accomplish
what he wants, no matter how vile the method in achieving it,” she admitted. “I can’t
recall a time when my brother was not cruel. Not even when we were young, and our
parents were still alive. I would feel responsible if you or anyone else was hurt.”
She wasn’t sure why, but she couldn’t admit she’d stolen money from her brother, couldn’t
admit that she was in the wrong when she finally got the courage to leave.
“I won’t allow him to get to anyone else,” Nick promised once again.
Could he really? He must have seen the disbelief clouding her expression.
“I know a thing or two about the type of person your brother is. As does everyone
else who works in this house.”
Amelia spread her hands out and stared down at them. What had she done wrong? How
had her brother found her at all? The name Grant meant nothing; she’d taken it from
the side of someone’s luggage on the train to London. Perhaps she should have changed
her first name too, but she somehow thought that might not have saved her from discovery
either. If she hadn’t stolen his money, would he have followed her? It wasn’t a great
sum, but it would have kept him busy for a couple of weeks in his gambling hells.
Her mind hadn’t been playing tricks on her the night before; Jeremy had been in the
crowd. That was how he’d found her. By chance. She wondered if he’d followed her and
Nick home. The thought that he knew where she lived made her feel helpless . . . and
angry.
“If you cut me free, you will never have to worry about my brother.” She had to offer
to leave again. Even though she didn’t have anywhere else to go. “I couldn’t bear
the thought of someone else inadvertently being hurt because of me.”
She wasn’t so sure he would let her keep her job if things escalated with her brother.
And knowing her brother, that’s exactly what would happen. He would find a way to
get to her, and he wouldn’t stop when someone got in his way—he’d plow right through
that person if he had to.
Nick leaned forward, and tipped her chin so she had to look him in the eye. “I have
wanted you from the moment you fell into my life. That does not change because your
brother thinks he has some claim over you.”
“You barely know me, Nick.” Why did she keep reminding him of this? Because she cared
about him. No matter the length of time they’d known each other, she couldn’t help
but care for him, and she wanted to protect him too.
“That hardly matters. Meeting by chance was just the start of us. You are mine to
defend, Amelia Somerset.”
“You say that now.” She shook her head in amazement of his complete resolve to protect
her. “Wait. How do you know my name? It’s not on the letter.”
“It was mentioned to Devlin.”
She felt guilty that she hadn’t been the one to tell him. “I was going to tell you.
I tried to this morning.”
“Hush.” His thumb swiped over her lips, rubbing back and forth. “I am not angry that
you did not tell me sooner. You had a right to keep your secrets for as long as you
did. But now you need to be completely honest with me.”
He was right. As much as it pained her to have to tell him any of this, she needed
to tell him her story. Tell him how she’d ended up in London at all.
“My father was an earl.” Nick only nodded, waiting for her to continue. And she found
herself telling him everything, leaving nothing out of the horrors of her life. “My
father was a good man and loved me as much as he loved life. The doctor said his heart
gave out. He could not keep up with his lavish life. A life he could ill afford, though
I didn’t know that until he died. I was fourteen. Jeremy was sixteen and not old enough
to take my father’s seat, so he was appointed a guardian until he came of age.
“Lord Ashley groomed my brother into the monster he is. That’s not to say Jeremy was
not always like that; he was cruel as a child. He hated me. Did terrible things to
me even when my father was alive, though it progressively got worse as I got older.
He hosted parties at our house in the summer, mostly to gamble. I usually stayed out
of sight.”
A shiver of revulsion ran through her as she remembered the first time she’d been
truly violated by her brother. Sensing her unease, Nick pulled her into his arms,
her head resting against his shoulder as she told him about her ugly past.
“If ever I had met him,” Nick said, his hand brushing over her hair, “I would have
stolen you out from under his power.”
“When I was seventeen, Jeremy declared me old enough to be considered a woman.” Tears
burned at the back of her eyes. “He lost a bet; it was a heavy wager and more than
he could afford to lose. To put the amount back in his pocket, he let the winner grope
me.”
She pressed her hands against her bosom, not able to put words to what had happened.
That had been the mildest of assaults she’d suffered at the hands of her brother’s
many friends.
The only reason she hadn’t been sold to some man as a mistress sooner was that she
was more valuable as a virgin. That didn’t stop her brother from granting men other
privileges. Mostly, they just touched her. She didn’t tell Nick about those incidents.
“Jeremy lost our home to Lord Ashley on a hand of cards. The price was much steeper
this time, and I was given to Lord Ashley under the condition that he could do as
he wished, as long as he married me. I hated Lord Ashley. He frightened me as a young
girl, and I could not bear to be in the same room with him as I got older. I did not
wait around long enough to find out what Lord Ashley would do to me.”
Nick lifted her from his shoulder and placed his hands on both sides of her face.
“You did the right thing. Your brother will not reach you here, and neither will Lord
Ashley.”
“They will try to hurt you, Nick. While my brother is powerless, Lord Ashley is not.
And I certainly don’t believe my brother is here alone.”
“And I dare them to try to get to you. You are no man’s property and are not obligated
to pay for your brother’s mistakes in any way. If there is one thing I can promise
you, it’s that I will end their threat against you.”
Looking at him, Amelia believed every word.
N
ick leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head as he contemplated
his next move. They had heard nothing and had not seen her brother again after yesterday’s
incident. He had just disappeared. The reprieve was temporary, Nick knew. But it gave
him time to find a way to eliminate the problem of Amelia’s brother. Paying him off
wouldn’t work; men like him only came back, groveling for more. And if they weren’t
given further handouts, they retaliated. That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.
No, he needed to find a better way; something permanent, because the last thing he
wanted was for Amelia to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life.
Publically ruining a man as depraved as her brother had been described would be a
simple process, but it would also bring to light the fact that Amelia was living in
his house. While that circumstance might be acceptable for his secretary, he doubted
many would be as forgiving about an earl’s daughter doing the same. And if she wanted
anonymity so she could start a new life, he would protect her identity.
There was also the problem of Lord Ashley. But Nick would take care of him once he
found a solution for her brother.
Nick scrubbed his hand over his face and rolled his shoulders before pushing away
from the desk. It was early yet, but he wanted to find Amelia.
Huxley walked in just as Nick stood.
“I did not think you would return until tomorrow,” Nick said.
“Didn’t much expect to either. Caught an early train once I had what I needed.”
“I assume the trip went as planned?”
Huxley had spent the past few days in Highgate, listening to the rumors of Murray’s
sale of the estate and surrounding lands. Nick needed to know if anyone was opposed
to the deal so he could approach them on his own terms. This was an important purchase
for him, one he didn’t want to sour before he had a chance to pay back a man who had
robbed him and his sister of a decent childhood. But all this seemed secondary to
the issues with Amelia.
“Yes,” Huxley said. “Have you spoken with Murray since your dinner?”
Nick shook his head as walked over to the sideboard to pour two whiskeys. “I was to
dine with him last night but had to reschedule, as something more important came up.”
And he’d talk to Huxley about that in a moment. “I doubt Murray will ask for more
than I have offered. He cannot afford to keep the property without risking it being
run down further than it is. The only problem will be his secretary.”
Nick intended to fix up the house and turn it into a home for wayward boys and girls.
He was going to give it to his sister to run. But that was years down the line, as
the house was in a state of disrepair.
“I can confirm that Murray’s secretary is the eyes and ears for the vicar,” Huxley
said.
Which was precisely what Nick thought. He had been hoping for better news. Of course,
Nick had an ulterior motive for wanting the Murray estate. There was a bigger plan
at play than simply starting a school for his sister; that could be done anywhere
in London. There was a man in Highgate Nick owed a debt to, one that would be paid
with the other man’s blood.
“And how is the old vicar?” Nick asked.
“Up to his old antics, I’m afraid.”
Huxley was probably the only other person who knew of the vicar’s dark proclivities.
Not that Nick had explained it in great detail to his man of affairs, but it wasn’t
hard to guess how vile the old man was after watching him for a couple of days. By
all accounts, the vicar either didn’t remember Nick, or he wasn’t privy to the particulars
of the sale. Either way, his reign over that part of town was fast coming to an end.
“He’s neither here nor there until I gain control of the estate,” Nick said. Setting
his glass down, he leaned against his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “There
are other problems with which I need your assistance—they involve Amelia.”
The news didn’t seem to surprise Huxley. Then again, he was a man who didn’t display
a lot of emotion. “I saw Devlin on my way in. Marney told me what she knew, which
wasn’t much. What kinda trouble she get herself in before coming here?”
“It seems her brother is in town. Goes by the last name of Somerset. He’s the Earl
of Berwick.” He hadn’t needed Amelia to tell him that; it had been staring back at
him from his catalog of peerages when he’d gone to retrieve her from Vic’s shop. Not
that he’d told her that.
“I can see where he’s staying tomorrow,” Huxley offered. Nick had planned on doing
that as soon as Huxley was back but hadn’t wanted to leave Amelia alone, even for
a minute. Huxley’s offer meant he could spend his morning with Amelia.
“I must attend to errands around eleven, so I’ll need you back before then. I do not
want Amelia or the others left here without protection. I won’t risk it after the
letter she received.”
Huxley raised one eyebrow but didn’t comment on the worry that inflected Nick’s voice.
It would soon be clear to everyone in the house that Amelia wasn’t merely his secretary.
She was so much more, but he’d keep up the charade of secrecy for the time being.
At least until she came to terms with the fact that he wasn’t ever letting her go.
“What were the contents of the letter?” Huxley asked.
“If you must know, it was a threat, Huxley.”
They both turned to the door, neither having heard Amelia enter the study. She walked
toward them, a resolute expression drawing her features in a series of grim lines.
A
melia wasn’t sure how much she should reveal but not knowing the full contents somehow
made the threat of her brother showing up not as terrifying. She sat in the chair
next to Huxley and looked between the two men. She wished Nick had called her down
to the study for this conversation; it was something she shouldn’t have been excluded
from. It made her feel too protected and sheltered. She needed some aspects of control
if she wanted to remain vigilant.
She decided the ugly truth was better than brushing the issues under the carpet. “The
letter was a reminder of what I owe him.”
Nick walked toward her, his hand reaching for her shoulder. “You don’t have to do
this.”
“You’re wrong. I do. I have been hiding from him for as long as I can remember. If
I pretend what he wrote is not as bad as it really is, then he wins. And if you want
Huxley to watch me, he should know what he is up against.”
Nick let her go, but he didn’t look happy. When he perched himself on the edge of
his desk again and looked at her, his stone-gray gaze gave nothing away, and his expression
was devoid of emotion. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or just irritated.
“My brother is a man greatly indebted to Lord Ashley, the Earl of Kilmore. I was the
bargaining chip my brother needed to settle his debts, and my brother promised his
lordship my hand in marriage.” She folded her hands in her lap as she recalled the
harsh words with which her brother had threatened her, and a chill cut her right to
the core.
“My first instinct was to run away, which I did. I thought I was free of him, but
he found me anyway. He promised to strip me himself”—she left off some of the more
gruesome parts about her past—“and watch as my fiancé raped me. He promised if I screamed,
he would slit the throats of every woman and child in this house.”
What Huxley couldn’t know was that the words contained in that letter weren’t an empty
threat. The most frightening aspect wasn’t that Jeremy had written the things he had,
but that her brother was true to his word, no matter the depravity he had to sink
to accomplish his promises.
She couldn’t believe the words left her mouth so calmly. But she’d had two days to
think of the contents, and she was past scared. She was so spitting mad that she wanted
to stand up to her brother herself and dole out the same cruelty he’d shown her.
Huxley curled his hands into fists. His face was red, and his lips pressed into a
thin angry line. “I will fucking gut the bugger myself.”
Amelia’s attention snapped to Huxley’s rapt gaze. She’d never heard him so angry.
She omitted the remainder of the letter. That would stay between her and Nick, though
Nick’s response had been more explicit than Huxley’s.
Nick chose that moment to say, “We will rotate our shifts at the house, starting tomorrow.”
“Aye, but when I catch the wee bastard I will nail him to the wall meself and cut
him from sternum to windpipe.” Huxley’s accent thickened when he was riled up with
anger.
“He has not made an appearance since giving the letter to Devlin. For now, we have
no choice but to wait him out,” Nick pointed out.
Huxley stood suddenly. “I’ll check around the house tonight.”
Nick nodded his head and let him leave without another word.
Amelia pressed her hand to her heart when he was gone. “I did not expect to elicit
quite that reaction.”
“Huxley does not take threats well. We both grew up in St. Giles, not the most loving
or kind environment. Threats are often very fatal and if you do not fight for what
you believe in, you end up floating in the Thames.”
She hadn’t known that about him. She’d known about St. Giles. It was one of the worst
slums in London, known for its overpopulation of immigrants and criminals, though
she doubted the last two went hand in hand. That was part of his past? Her heart ached
for both men.
“I know you didn’t want me to tell Huxley so much . . . ”
Taking her hands in his, he pulled her to her feet. “Never apologize for needing to
do something that helps you move forward from your past.”
“You sound as if you speak from experience.”
He didn’t say anything.
They needed a change of topic. “You have been ignoring all your appointments because
of me.”
“Just a few errands around town that can be done any time.”
“I can take care of myself too, Nick. Both you and Huxley have more important things
to do than watch after me, day and night.”
“Make no mistake—I want nothing more than to take care of you every single night.”
His voice dropped an octave.
She swallowed, feeling that familiar ache of need deep inside her. How did a few simple
words make her feel this way?
Even the way he looked at her made her want to crawl into his lap and let him do very
wicked things to her. She should be worried out of her mind about her brother having
found her, but she felt safe—even protected—when she was with Nick. And it looked
like he had no intention of letting her escape.
She’d slept alone last night, still feeling the twinge of pain from their first night
together, but now that the pain was gone, she wanted him that way again. She tore
her gaze away from his, afraid that he would see the hunger flooding her eyes. And
what was wrong with that? It was evident he wanted her in the same way.
“Now that Huxley is back, we need to set boundaries during the day. I do not want
anyone to think less of me because I’m . . . we are . . . ”
“Say it.” He maneuvered her toward the library. The look in his eyes would undo her
if she didn’t break this spell over them. She bit her lip.
“Say the word, Amelia.” His demand was firm.
“Because we are having an affair,” she blurted out, hating how awful that sounded
to her own ears. “Everything with my brother complicates things further. We need to
be circumspect.”
“An affair implies a short attachment.” He took another step toward her, pushing her
up against the sofa. There was nowhere else for her to go. “Try again.”
She swallowed, not sure she wanted to continue whatever game this was he was playing.
“What is it you want from me?”
“I have told you want I want. And I won’t stop until you are completely mine.”
The promise in his words had her heart pounding so hard in her chest that she found
herself suddenly breathless.
“In the middle of the afternoon?” It was a sorry excuse, even to her own ears. She
hungered for him, but here? Surely they’d be caught.
“Which makes it as good a time as any.”
“Anyone could walk in,” she said, trying to be the voice of reason, hating that she
wanted him anyway.
He left her standing there in a dither, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He trotted
back into the room a minute later, his bearing cocky as he grinned at her like the
cat that ate the canary.
“The door is now locked.”
Of course he had locked it.
“That does not mean they will be blind to what we are up to.” Surely they fooled none
of the staff. But she didn’t want to think of the repercussions associated with that.
“They will think we are discussing a possible solution to our problem.” It wasn’t
her problem but theirs. Why that gave her a thrill of excitement, she didn’t know,
but it did. It meant he wouldn’t abandon her if her brother came on too strong.
He leaned closer . . . close enough that they could kiss, but he didn’t cross that
final distance to press his lips to hers. He held back, keeping her in the balance
of want and desire. He made her yearn for all the things she shouldn’t want and made
her lose all sense when he set his focus solely on her. It wasn’t right, but she was
helpless to push him away, and she couldn’t even contemplate stopping him, now that
she knew the door was barred to everyone else.
She’d turned into a harlot since leaving her home. The path she’d thought she’d carve
for herself once moving to London had turned out far differently than she had imagined.
Wasn’t she essentially surrendering to a different kind of enslavement than the one
her brother had envisioned for her? Giving herself to Nick had all sorts of implications
she didn’t want to think about. Essentially, she’d sold herself to one man instead
of being forced to marry another. No. That wasn’t right. She’d given herself to Nick.
Freely. Completely.