The sun had yet to make an appearance the next morning when Cora was awakened by Clara’s urgent voice. “What is it?” she asked sleepily, her eyes drifting open.
“Drayven didn’t come home last night.”
Cora sat up, the cobwebs of lovely dreams involving a certain silver-eyed man fading away in the face of her sister’s upset. Clara had left for Sussex House after a lively dinner the night before that included the baron, even though Lady Marsh had offered to fix up a room for her and Drayven at Meriwether House.
Now, here she was, pacing a path in Cora’s bedchamber carpet, worry evident in the lines on her face and the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. “I just know something terrible has happened. I can feel it in here…” Her words trailed off as she pressed a fist to her breast, right over her heart.
Cora threw off the covers and walked over to take her sister’s hands in her own, forcing her to stop her restless movements. With a firm, but gentle tone, she said, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, but you don’t need to concern yourself unnecessarily. Remember, you have that little one to think about.”
Clara paused and put a hand to her stomach, as if it was the only thing that was truly keeping her sane in that moment. “Do you know where we might begin to inquire after Drayven?” she asked gently.
Her twin visibly swallowed. “The last thing I knew, he told me he was going to visit Talon.”
Cora instantly felt her stomach churn with anxiety. The first thought that entered her head was the threat from Nicholas. But she wasn’t about to tell her sister that when she was already overset. “Why don’t we go downstairs and get you a nice cup of tea?” Cora soothed. “Then we’ll sort this all out.”
Her sister reluctantly nodded, so Cora led her out into the hallway where the butler was hovering. He was still attired in his nightshirt and robe, a cap on his head, but he held himself proud and ready to assist. “Is something amiss?”
Cora sighed. “I’m afraid so. If you would please see that a teacart is sent into the parlor straightaway, as well as sending a footman over to Mr. Lyridon’s residence to inquire after Lord Sussex, I would be forever grateful.”
He bowed respectfully. “Consider it done.” He disappeared down the stairs at the same moment Lady Marsh came dashing across the hall toward them.
“I heard voices—” Their mother began in a nearly breathless rush, but she paused, her face blanching when she spied Clara. “Oh, dear. What’s happened?”
Fearful that she would have two hysterical family members on her hands when she was trying to hold herself together with her own concern over Talon, Cora said quickly, “Let’s retire to the parlor, and then I’ll explain.”
After Clara was settled with a cup of warm tea near the fireplace, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, Cora led Darla back into the hallway and recounted the situation.
Once she had, some of Darla’s tension relaxed slightly. “I don’t believe that Drayven would engage in any… nocturnal activities when it’s obvious that he’s madly in love with his wife. But at the same time, I pray that something hasn’t befallen him.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Cora concurred.
“I shall speak with her.” As Lady Marsh went back into the parlor, Cora allowed herself a moment of weakness as she collapsed against the wall at her back.
Her heart was pounding with the effort it had taken to remain calm and composed in the face of her sister’s fears, but the moment she’d mentioned Talon, Cora’s world had tilted. If something had happened to Talon, whereas Drayven was somehow involved, could she really conceal Nicholas’s threats any longer? But if they were to come to light, would it be worse for everyone involved? Who was to say he wouldn’t retaliate by taking his frustration out on Clara, or even Lady Marsh?
Cora had just convinced herself to keep silent on the matter, unless she had no other choice, when the front door suddenly burst open. Her heart skittered to a halt in her chest when she saw three men fill the doorway. But it wasn’t the dried blood that was plastered to the side of Drayven’s head, nor the fact that Thompson was with them that disturbed her as much as the fact Talon was unconscious, his weight sagging between them. His head was lolling on his shoulders, but the blood that had coated the back of his head, along with the dark red stain on his left arm was what caused her the most alarm.
“He’s not as light as he appears,” Drayven said through gritted teeth and it was apparent that he was still struggling with his own injuries.
Cora shoved her shock aside and instantly went into action. She shouted for the butler, or any other servants that might assist her. Of course, her cries caused Lady Marsh and Clara to rush into the foyer where they both stopped short at the scene before them.
However, Clara didn’t stand still for long. She rushed to her husband and flung herself into his arms as a footman arrived to take Talon’s weight from him. “Oh, thank God, you’re alive.”
As Drayven cradled her weeping form close to him, Clara instructed the servants to take Talon upstairs to one of the guest rooms.
“Fetch a doctor at once,” Lady Marsh said to another footman who appeared, and quickly rushed off at her urging.
Cora didn’t wait to hear what Clara and Drayven or Lady Marsh had to say, her only concerns were to see Talon settled and to reassure herself that he was alive. As the footman and Thompson deposited him on the bed that she directed them to, she breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the steady rise and fall of his chest.
As the footman departed, Cora turned to the Runner and forced herself to speak, the words that came past her lips rather thick with emotion. “What happened?”
Thompson shook his head. “I can’t rightly say, Miss Upton. I wasn’t there when they were attacked. It was only happenstance that I managed to be in the area when the alarm was sounded because of the—”
He broke off abruptly and she knew there was something he wasn’t telling her. “What?” she nearly demanded.
His throat worked as he swallowed, and then he said, “The murder.”
***
Cora’s thoughts were reeling as she finally trudged downstairs a half hour later. She wanted to remain with Talon, but Lady Marsh had insisted that she retire to the parlor with Drayven and Clara while the doctor examined the barrister. Without a convincing enough argument as to why a betrothed woman would remain with a man that wasn’t her intended, she left, but she vowed that she wouldn’t be ejected from his side for long.
The moment she passed the threshold into the parlor, she saw her sister and brother-in-law in hushed conversation. However, when she entered, they became silent.
Cora sat down wearily and looked at the marquess, whose temple had been cleaned of blood, but which still sported a nice bump from his encounter with the scoundrel who had dared to attack him and Talon. “If you’re discussing the murder, I already know about it.”
Drayven clenched his jaw and eyed his wife. “Thompson,” he said by way of explanation.
Cora looked around as if expecting to see the Runner still in residence, but Clara said, “He left a short time ago. He said he was going to investigate the matter in more detail.”
“Where did this all take place?” Cora asked, and again, Drayven looked at his wife, who gave a slight nod of her head.
“Late last night, at a tavern known as The Slippery Eel,” he returned.
“What were you doing there?” Cora persisted.
Drayven shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t disclose the particulars as it was a matter of state business.”
Cora’s eyes widened. “State business?” She blinked. “Are you saying that Talon is still working for Whitehall?”
Drayven winced, and it was all the confirmation she required. With a huff, she walked over to the window and glanced out at the street beyond. London was starting to become the bustling city that she knew, with vendors pushing their carts of produce, and street urchins running to and fro, some of which she well knew weren’t as innocent as they appeared. But among all this chaos, she realized that this common morning, like so many others, might have had her waking up in an entirely different scenario.
If something had happened to Talon…
She closed her eyes, unable to even finish the torturous thought that instead of lying upstairs, he might have been found dead in a ditch somewhere. While it was going to shatter her heart to marry Nicholas, at least she had a small measure of comfort knowing that Talon would live on. When the time came that he started his own family it would be difficult, but at least she would know he was alive and well. She couldn’t even imagine a life without his existence.
With a sigh, she announced, “I think I shall take a walk in the gardens.”
Her sister stood up and walked over to her. “I’ll join you.”
***
Talon awoke with a groan and a pounding in his skull. At first, he wasn’t sure why one side of his body was burning like fire, and then he remembered the gunshot to his left arm. He slowly cracked open his eyes and turned his head to assess the damage. The last thing he remembered was heading for Drayven after the murder of the turncoat Runner, Jones, but then getting attacked from behind. He was rather surprised to find that, not only was he in a rather comfortable bed now, but his wounds were bandaged with clean, white linen. He was shirtless, but after a quick glance under the covers, found that he was still wearing his small clothes. Either way, he knew he wasn’t at home, for nothing in the room appeared familiar.
With a sigh, he closed his eyes and relaxed against the pillow. They abruptly popped back open when he felt something jump onto the bed. A pair of adoring brown eyes regarded him, a rust-colored head with big, fluffy ears tilted at a considering angle. Talon couldn’t help but smile at the sight, some of his trepidation waning, for now he knew exactly where he was. “Hello there, Ruby.”
His voice was a bit huskier than usual, but the dog still recognized him easily enough. She padded over and lay down on his chest. He chuckled and brought his hand up to scratch behind her ears. “You’re a good girl, do you know that? A perfect companion for your mistress.” Ruby merely sniffed in reply and enjoyed the attention she was receiving. “And perhaps a bit spoiled,” Talon added with a grin.
The door opened, and Drayven poked his head around the edge. “Ah, you’re finally awake.” He considered that an invitation to enter the room. He sat down in a chair beside the bed and regarded Talon and the puppy with interest. “I take it she’s a friend of yours? You always did prefer red heads,” he teased.
Instead of replying to his cousin, Talon glanced down at Ruby. “Don’t let him bother you. He’s more bark than bite.”
“Perhaps you should ask my wife if that’s true,” Drayven drawled unrepentantly, a roguish grin on his face and his dark eyes twinkling merrily.
Talon had to chuckle. “Ever the Sinful Swain,” he murmured.
“Don’t forget that you are the other half of that moniker,” Drayven pointed out with a raised, dark brow. His face abruptly sobered. “How are you feeling?”
Talon snorted. “Like I’ve been shot.”
His companion winced. “You would know.”
Talon swallowed. Yes, he certainly would. This was the third time it had happened, and it was starting to get wearisome. While he was almost afraid to ask the next question, he knew it needed to be answered at some point. “How is… Cora?”
“She was upset, naturally, but once the doctor assured us that you would fully recover, we all breathed a sigh of relief and things have settled down.”
Talon blew out a breath and made to rise. “I suppose I need to get home…”
Drayven pushed him back down. “I don’t think there’s any rush for that. In fact, I’m sure it would put all of our minds at ease if you weren’t alone right now. You know as well as I do that attack was planned.”
He turned to his cousin with a raised brow of his own. “Think I can’t take care of myself?”
“No. I know you can,” Drayven returned in all seriousness. “I just don’t believe there’s any hurry to do so. I’m confident Lady Marsh will let you remain here as long as you need to recover.” He stretched out his legs. “And it would be the perfect opportunity to convince Cora that you are the right man for her.”
Talon considered staying under the same roof as the woman he desired above all else, knowing she was within reach, and yet so far away, and shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
He turned his head away. “Does it really matter? Besides, if I stayed here, it would only cause more harm than good.”
“Tonight proved Nicholas’s involvement. I can’t believe that you would let this sham of an engagement continue when you know the truth.”
Talon’s fists clenched with added frustration. His head was starting to pound. “What would you have me do? Cora has made it perfectly clear that she wants nothing to do with me other than our current friendship.”
“Then it’s up to you to change her mind.”
Talon regarded his cousin, quite sure he knew what that statement implied. “You’re not actually suggesting that I seduce her away from her fiancé?” He barked out a humorless laugh, while his blood heated at the thought of having Cora in his bed. Unfortunately, he wasn’t so deprived that he would take advantage of Cora’s affections in such a manner, even if he was desperately tempted to do just that. “No. I won’t do it.”
There was a brief pause, and then Drayven asked quietly, “Have you even told her how you feel?”
Talon didn’t have to reply. The silence spoke for him.
“I see.” Dravyen rose to his feet. “I apologize if I overstepped. I was merely offering a solution to the lady’s reluctance, for we both know who the better man is for her.”
Talon scrubbed a hand down his face as his cousin took his leave. While Drayven had been bold enough to propose the perfect answer to his problem with Cora, he yet possessed that single thread of morality that made him a gentleman, that small shred of integrity that he’d always prided himself on.
But at the end of the day, when he knew what sort of man Nicholas was, could he, in all good conscience, allow Cora to live the rest of her days with such a villain? Was honor truly that important when it came to rescuing the woman he cared about so deeply from a life of devastation and misery?
***
Cora stared at the canopy above her bed that night, unable to sleep, tortured as she was by her own thoughts. She hadn’t returned to check in on Talon after her walk with Clara in the gardens, although she had wanted nothing more than to rush to his side. She wasn’t even sure what stopped her from going to him, except that she knew it wasn’t fair to give him the wrong impression, that she might actually consider accepting his proposal when she knew that it was impossible. Nicholas had made that quite clear.
She rolled onto her side with a sigh. She’d wanted to unburden herself on Clara, to tell her about her fiancé’s threats, but knowing that her sister was in a delicate state with her new pregnancy, she had remained silent on the matter. Plus, she would likely confide in her husband, who would then go to Talon…
No, she would have to deal with this on her own. While she didn’t want to believe that she would actually have to go through with the wedding, at the moment, there didn’t seem to be any other choice. She’d gone over the possibilities time and again, trying to find a way out of making the biggest mistake in her life, but nothing had come to mind as yet. At least, not something that didn’t involve harming those she held most dear.
She punched her pillow in annoyance. There had to be some way to prove to Nicholas that she wouldn’t be intimidated, a way to strike back…
The air suddenly left her lungs in a rush and she sat up straight in bed. Perhaps there was a way after all. And the solution might just be sleeping down the hall.
While Nicholas might be forcing Cora to retain their engagement, that didn’t mean he should get her virtue as well. And if he realized she was no longer chaste…
She carefully slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping Ruby who had taken it upon herself to curl up at the foot of her bed each night, and slipped her robe over her night rail. She paced the room for only a few minutes, and then before she could talk herself out of what she was doing, Cora padded to her chamber door. She opened it and peeked out into the corridor. The house was dark and silent, the servants having long since retired. If there could be a perfect time for an assignation, this would be it.
Cora was relieved that Clara and Drayven had returned to Sussex House. She wasn’t sure she would have the courage to seduce Talon if her sister and brother-in-law were still in residence. Having her mother under the same roof was bad enough.
With a deep breath, she tiptoed down the hall. She paused at every creak that the house made, so that by the time she’d made it to the guest chamber, her heart was pounding. She was almost dizzy from the nervous anticipation thrumming through her veins. But just as she was about to raise her hand and knock lightly on the door, she heard a muffled noise coming from inside. Curious, she pressed her ear to the wood where she heard another distinctive thump, followed by a slight, masculine curse. She had to smile, for she knew that voice nearly as well as her own.
She dared to open the door slightly and peek around the corner, only to see Talon’s shadowed, towering frame standing in the middle of the room, a book in his hand and two more on the floor. But it wasn’t the annoyance she saw on his face that captured her attention, but rather the fact he was half dressed. Without a shirt, he was unknowingly treating her to the sight of his muscular back and broad shoulders, tapering to a trim waist. He bent down to pick up the books, and Cora’s eyes widened. He was clad only in his small clothes, thus giving her a nice view of strong calves and a toned backside.
Her mouth went dry. Could she truly go through with this? She closed her eyes to regain some of her faltering courage and took a step into the room. “Need some help?”
Talon turned his head sharply at the sound of her voice, setting the books on the bedside table. “What are you doing here?”
Cora tried not to stare at the bed, the most imposing piece of furniture in the room. While she had imagined a seduction would be rather easy, now that she was here, facing Talon in the flesh, she found that she doubted her abilities to entice him. What if he refused her?
“I couldn’t sleep,” she finally offered by way of an explanation. “And I wanted to check in on you,” she added. She slowly moved forward and latched on to the first subject of safe conversation she could find. She peeked at the books. “What are you reading?”
“Nothing particularly interesting.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Just a few tomes on philosophy I borrowed from the library.” He winced and touched his bandaged arm. “At least I made it all the way upstairs before I got clumsy.”
Cora grinned, for she realized his statement was meant to provoke their previous conversation at Hatchard’s. But then she frowned, taking note of his discomfort. “Are you sure you should even be out of bed?”
She had meant it as an innocent enough statement, concern for his wellbeing at the forefront of her mind, but as the moment lingered, those silver eyes caressing her face, she realized how bold that suggestion truly was. Warmth flooded her cheeks, but as he abruptly shifted his weight, a long, white scar was revealed along his ribcage. Almost without conscious thought, she reached out and lightly touched the area with her fingertips. “What happened?”
Talon hissed through his teeth and moved away from her. “It’s nothing,” he returned curtly.
“Did I hurt you?”
He shook his head and replied to her earlier query, although his voice was huskier than before. “I fear I haven’t always been lucky in my line of work.”
She hugged herself, feeling a sudden chill. “Then why do you continue to do it?”
“I have my reasons.”
Cora studied the hard line of his jaw, the rigid way he held himself and thought she understood. “I know that you’re an honorable man, but is it truly worth risking your life just to achieve some measure of glory?”
His eyes suddenly blazed, and he clenched his fists at his sides. “If you truly believe that I do all of this out of a misplaced sense of pride, then I fear you don’t know me at all.”
Cora swallowed, but instead of being offended, she asked bluntly, “Would you ever consider retiring from field work?”
He shrugged. “I suppose someday I’ll have no choice.”
“What about now?” Cora asked softly. “Would you leave Whitehall for me?”
He watched her carefully. “That depends.”
She stilled, afraid that she already knew what he might say. “On what?”
“Will you leave Nicholas for me?”
Cora closed her eyes against the pain that sliced through her. “You know that I cannot.”
“Why?” His voice was like a whip, cracking through the air. “Because he might inherit a title someday?” She looked at him to see him shake his head in frustration. “You know what sort of man he is. I’ve proved that much to you. He will do nothing but make you miserable, and yet, you insist on this path. I want to know why.” When she remained silent, unable to give him the answer he sought, and yet allowing him to believe what he wished, Talon visibly withdrew. “I see.” He turned away from her, his handsome face in chiseled profile. “Goodnight, Cora.”
He was like a statue, stiff and unmovable, but Cora knew beyond that hard façade he was flesh and blood and bone and man. She couldn’t leave him like this. She feared that if she did, she would never see him again.
She was close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, but far enough that they weren’t touching. It was torture to be this near to him, when all she wanted was his arms around her, to feel his lips upon hers, if only for one last time...
“Kiss me, Talon,” she whispered.
His throat worked as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with suppressed emotion. “You can’t ask that of me. You have no right.” His voice actually sounded tortured.
“And yet, I just did,” she returned boldly.
After an interminable time, he finally turned to her. His gaze was hard, dangerous, a visible warning. “Then the answer would be no. As long as you are promised to Nicholas—”
Cora felt a single tear fall down her cheek. “Talon, please.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Don’t push me away—”
In a movement as quick as a lightning flash, he was upon her, pinning her against the wall, her breasts pressed against his muscular frame. His silver eyes became molten steel as they raked over her form. His nostrils flared with the scent of growing hunger. “I don’t have the time , nor the inclination to play games,” he nearly growled. “You refuse to take my name, to break off your engagement, and yet in the next breath you stand here and ask the impossible.”
Cora felt more tears well in her eyes. “You don’t understand…”
His eyes glittered. “Then explain it to me.”
She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. She knew that to confess all to Talon would only do him more harm than good, for she had no doubt that Nicholas would follow through on his threats. If further injury would come to Talon because of her, she wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt.
But when she saw the resolve in his gaze, she knew she was losing him. Panic threatened to claw its way through her chest, so she gave him the only explanation she could. “I know you don’t understand my reasons for staying with Nicholas, but perhaps someday you will.” Her voice cracked. “All I can say is that I have treasured our friendship. That is something that will forever be constant. And when I considered the possibility that you were dead, you can be assured that it tore me up inside. When I think of my life without you, I can’t bear it.”
With a sob, Cora covered her mouth and walked briskly toward the door, hoping to make it to her chamber without breaking down completely, making her humiliation of this night complete. She gasped when a hand reached out and kept the wood firmly closed, inhibiting her escape.
“You dare to say something like that, and then just expect me to let you leave?” Talon reached out and gently turned her face to his. “I don’t know what it is about you, what sort of spell you’ve spun around me from the very first moment we met…” With the pad of his thumb, he wiped away one of her tears. “But when you look at me with those precious, violet eyes, or turn that lovely red head in my direction, I find that I’m powerless to resist you.” His gaze roamed over her face and hair, and then rested on her mouth. “It’s as if you have mesmerized me.”
Trembling rippled through Cora’s entire body as he slowly lowered his lips to hers, but right as he would have claimed her mouth, he whispered, “Forgive me, Cora, but I have to taste you, just one last time…”
Her eyes slid closed, her heart soaring with true bliss.