Chapter 18

 

 

 

Three days had passed, and Christian had spent most of that time caring for Eleanora. Initially, she had bristled but soon settled in and allowed him to serve her meals, gauge her temperature, and keep her company.

They spoke on all manner of subjects, found they had more in common than he had thought. But at the foremost of Eleanora’s mind was the investigation. She was resolute in her purpose. He admired her work ethic and desire to get to the truth.

How to turn that passion toward him?

He may have revealed too much that night he held her in his arms, but he was intelligent enough to know not to bring the subject up again. Not as yet. The fact she didn’t reply gave him a spark of hope. At least she hadn’t dismissed him outright.

As for a possible future together?

Christian had thought of nothing else. No other woman had caught his interest like this or engaged his heart. How could he ask her to give up her investigative agency?

And why should she? To please society? To please him?

He would never ask it of her.

He glanced at her sitting across from him in his carriage as they headed toward Sir Howard Whitney’s residence. Christian had sent word two days ago that he wished an audience, and Sir Howard had reluctantly complied.

“So, am I to remain quiet during his interview,” he teased.

Eleanora gave him an alluring smile. “Not completely silent. I may need your assistance prying information out of him.”

The carriage pulled up in front of a rather dingy set of flats. Michaels opened the door and assisted Eleanora out of the carriage, with Christian following. The address was in a respectable section of Lambeth, but this particular building had seen better days.

Christian pulled the bell, and a stooped older man answered.

He handed his card to him. “Christian Bamford, Duke of Allenby. Sir Howard is expecting us.”

The man took the card with a shaking hand. “This way, Your Grace.”

The lighting was nonexistent, and the place had not had a good dusting or airing out in years. The air was stale and oppressive. Barking could be heard off in a distance.

“Sir Howard will join you directly.” The butler pointed to a room with double doors, turned, and left. There was no taking of their coats, no offer of tea.

Entering the parlor, Christian made a quick inspection of his surroundings. Tattered draperies hung on slanted rods, and moths had made a meal out of the tapestries and furniture. Cobwebs were visible in every crevice. The room looked to belong to a villain in a Dickens novel.

“Has Sir Howard fallen on hard times?” Eleanora whispered.

“It appears so unless he doesn’t care. I’ve never met the man. Ford never invited us here; he had been adamant about it. I see why.”

The door flung open, and a man in his sixties entered, wearing slippers and a dirty robe along with his shirt and trousers. Two yapping beagles ran around him in circles.

“You mangy curs! Sit by the fire!” Sir Howard roared.

“I would hope you are speaking to the dogs and not to us,” Christian said, his tone sardonic.

Sir Howard adjusted his glasses. “Of course, I’m talking to the dogs, but sit yourselves at any rate. There, on the sofa.” The older man coughed and spat into the fire. “Allenby, eh? What is this about, eh? Why is a duke coming to see me? Better not be to give to charity, the great unwashed get enough from government, be damned if I will throw them a crumb.”

The dogs had settled by the fire, giving the baronet frightened glances. The man probably beat the poor animals.

“This is Miss Eleanora Galway, of The Galway Investigative Agency. We are here to talk to you about Ford.”

Sir Howard didn’t look Eleanora’s way, nor did he acknowledge her. “Talk about who, now?”

“Your son, Ford,” Eleanora interjected. Finally, he looked her way, giving her such a contemptuous glare Christian was about to say something. Eleanora must have sensed it because she briefly laid her hand on his arm.

“I have no son,” he spat venomously.

“You do,” Christian replied, “because he was friends with me when we were lads.”

Sir Howard’s eyes narrowed. “You’re that Allenby? One of the brats at the drowning?”

“Yes. Exactly what we want to talk about. What happened that night? Ford must have told you,” Christian said.

“Why ask me? You were there. Seems to me you should have stopped the tragedy from occurring, I warrant,” he bellowed. “Coming here stirring up trouble, it’s over and done. Best to let it lay.”

“I have no idea what happened, so I couldn’t very well prevent it. Ford came home and told you, I’ll wager to guess. Then you sent him away. Why?” Christian asked. “We received letters from Ford—”

The baronet laughed cruelly. “Oh, he sent letters, only you never got them, I saw to that. I had them at the school make a pretense of mailing them to the parties involved, but the correspondence came to me. Pathetic those letters were, begging you all to come and rescue him. Sniveling coward. He never had any sense or a backbone.”

Eleanora retrieved her notebook and pencil from her coat. “You wrote the letters the friends received, saying all was well. He wasn’t with his Uncle in India at all.”

“No, missy, he wasn’t. It’s no one’s business.” Sir Howard ran his hand through his dirty gray hair.

What a thoroughly disagreeable man.

“And the letters we wrote, the ones delivered to you to send along to Ford?” Christian asked.

The baronet snorted. “Burned them.”

“We believe that Ford is back in England,” Eleanora said.

Sir Howard scratched his whiskered chin. “Maybe. He escaped three months ago. Stole money from the asylum safe and—”

“Wait, did you say asylum?” Christian interrupted. He couldn’t believe this.

“He’s mad as a hatter! And a murderer to boot. Of course, I put him away,” Sir Howard snapped.

The clock chimed. The time was fifteen minutes off. Everything was off about this man, but Christian believed his story. A spark of pity for Ford took hold. Sent away to school and to end up in an asylum? What a horrid fate.

“Murderer? Do you mean the drowning?” Eleanora said, her voice soft.

“Might as well have been a murder,” Sir Howard grumbled. “He fought with the lad, held his head underwater. Held it a bit too long. Says he didn’t mean it. Anyway, I beat Ford within an inch of his life. I sent him away to a special school in Switzerland. What if the coppers came looking for him? But then, those at the inquiry told me there were no witnesses. I thought they were covering up for you pampered lot.”

Christian shook his head. “We were drunk and fell asleep. We didn’t hear or see anything.”

“Why didn’t you send for Ford after he was safe from being accused of the accidental death?” Eleanora asked.

“Mouthy little missy, aren’t you? First off, I’m not certain that it was accidental. He brought shame to the family. To me. I disowned him. Besides, he was out of control at the school. He finally had to be put away in an institution. And before you ask, I haven’t heard from him. Why are you looking for him?”

“We had a body part sent to the club. We wondered if Ford was behind it,” Christian replied.

“Wouldn’t put it past him. In one of his last letters, he ranted and raved he was going to get revenge on all those who abandoned him. It’s all talk.” Sir Howard flapped his hand dismissively.

“Do you still have that letter?” Eleanora asked.

“Burned like all the others. He’s mad, I tell you. Best to ignore him. And don’t go repeating about the drowning. I’ll deny it all.”

“Sir Howard, you should take precautions concerning your safety. Your son is unpredictable, capable of causing you harm,” Eleanora stated.

“Bah, stuff and nonsense,” the baronet barked in reply, flapping his hand again.

“Miss Galway is correct. Take her advice. Now, concerning the letter. If we bring you a sample of handwriting, could you identify it as Ford’s?” Christian asked. “None of us could remember it. But you would.”

Whitney stood. “Be off with you. I no longer wish to speak about this. And don’t come here again.” He shuffled out of the room, the dogs following close behind.

Christian and Eleanora exchanged looks of astonishment.

“Well,” she said as she stuffed her notebook into her coat.

Christian stood and held out his hand. “I believe we will have to see ourselves out. Come, I need the fresh air. In more ways than one.”

Once in the carriage, Christian asked, “Come to my place for tea. We can discuss what we’ve learned. I’m famished.”

Eleanora hesitated. “Althea is expected home today. I should greet her.”

“Come for an hour; then we will go to Cleveland Street after.” He took her hand and gently squeezed it. “Spend time with me. Share a biscuit and a cup of tea,” he coaxed.

“What are you doing? There can be nothing between us. Surely you see that,” she murmured. Then she pulled her hand from his.

“I don’t accept that. Already we are friends. We’re attracted to one another. Why not see where it goes?”

Eleanora shook her head. “I have already decided that I will never marry. And because of it, I have no interest in any dalliance that has a promise of ‘more’ attached to it. I’m sorry, but’s it’s how I feel.”

She had spoken in a flat tone as if coldly discussing one of her cases. Christian felt as if his insides had been kicked clear out of him. And stomped on for good measure.

“I could lie to you and say I have no interest beyond a brief affair while secretly planning to get you to agree to more, but that is not me. I cannot pretend. Nor will I deny my feelings. I also would never try to dictate your life and make you give up yours to accommodate mine. I’ve told you that before, and I mean it.”

Eleanora gave him a dubious look. “You want to have this conversation now, sitting in a carriage on the street?”

“Why not?” Christian sat back and crossed his arms.

“Very well. You will need to marry, have an heir. I am most decidedly not duchess material. I’ve dismissed the thought of having children as they would interfere with my ambitions. How could I still run my agency? Oh, this discussion is absurd.”

“Since we are speaking hypothetically, why can’t we have it all?” he replied softly.

Eleanora’s lower lip trembled, the first show of emotion. “Oh, damn you for making me feel.”

“You care for me, admit it. More than any man you have ever met. That is not arrogance on my part. I have seen it in your eyes. I see it now. Perhaps, you more than care. Trying to push me away will not rid you of those feelings.”

“Fine. I care. It doesn’t change the fact we are impossible as a couple.” Eleanora sighed wistfully.

“Hear me out. If we were to fall in love and marry, I would never ask you to give up your agency. You want us to live in London all year round? Done. Think of what you can do with my money; you can expand. Hire more people, even that street lad, Archie, you told me about. I’ll pay for his upkeep and education. You can continue to work and run your business. Keep your own money. Make your own decisions.”

He meant every word.

Christian watched Eleanora closely. Confusion and uncertainty crossed her lovely features.

“As far as children, yes, I would like one or two, but only if you agree,” he continued. “The good news is I am wealthy; we can afford nannies and nurses. You can balance your career with motherhood any way you wish.”

“You have an answer for everything. It sounds too good to be true. I can’t leave my family. Althea—”

“Move her and your cousin in with us. Or I can move into Cleveland Street.” Christian sat forward, taking her hands. “My dearest, nothing is impossible. Surely you know that I am falling for you. You must know it.”

“Chris, I-I—”

He pulled her across the carriage until she straddled him, her shapely legs fitted against his thighs. He brought her in tighter until her feminine core rubbed against his erection. Eleanora moaned softly.

“See what you do to me? God, I want you. To hell with tea and biscuits, come home with me. To my bed. I want to make love to you, El.”

She rocked back and forth, causing a delicious friction that had him moaning.

“Why not right here in the carriage, like this?” she whispered in his ear.

 

 

* * *

 

 

This was entirely naughty. A quick tup in the carriage? What possessed her? But more importantly, Christian was falling in love with her? What else could falling mean? Her heart had soared at the declaration. Though she hadn’t spoken it aloud, she more than cared. For she was falling, too. How far and how fast, she couldn’t make out.

As for right now, she couldn’t think about all he said; it was too much to process.

But this? Oh, how she wanted him. Deep inside her.

“Here?” he growled, nuzzling her neck.

“I will tell you; I have been with two other men.”

“At the same time?” Christian teased playfully, nibbling on her earlobe.

“Silly man, of course not. I just wanted you to know that I’m not a virgin.”

“I don’t care if you are or not,” he replied firmly.

“I know what will happen between us, is my point. Do you have any sheaths?”

Christian pulled back and met her gaze. “Not on me.”

“I trust you. So, when you’re close, tell me, and make certain that you don’t come inside me,” Eleanora said.

He growled. “I won’t come inside you; I promise. You can trust me on this and anything else.”

In a flurry, they rucked up skirts, pulled down her underdrawers, and unbuttoned trousers. Eleanora reached in and pulled out his erect shaft, giving it a couple of strokes.

“Oh, sweet Mother,” he hissed through clenched teeth, using her expression.

She giggled. “We will have to be quiet; Michaels might hear.”

Without hesitation, she rose and positioned herself over his erection and plunged downward. She smothered Christian’s shout with a passionate kiss.

“Hold still a moment,” he gasped. “I want to savor this.”

Eleanora sat still, reveling in how he filled and stretched her. “I have to move.”

“A minute more.” With his hands on either side of her hips, he thrust upward, causing them both to moan.

“We must be quiet,” Eleanora whispered.

“I don’t give a good damn if Michaels hears. I pay him enough to be discreet. Ride me, El. Take your pleasure.”

“I believe you have done this in a carriage before, Your Grace,” she teased.

“Once, maybe twice. Now, move.”

A thrill shot along her spine at his commanding tone. Eleanora started slow, rocking back and forth, her hands resting on his broad shoulders. Then she rose and plunged downward as Christian thrust upward with his hips. The frantic rhythm hit a sensual synchronicity that had Eleanora’s nerve endings sparking with desire.

Christian banged on the roof, and the carriage lurched forward.

“What are you doing?” she squeaked.

“It’s even better when in motion.” Christian kissed her hungrily. “Ride with the rocking of the carriage,” he crooned. “That’s it.”

It took no time at all. Christian was right.

The swaying motion was indeed a bonus to an already heated and passionate encounter. Eleanora’s peak reached its crest within minutes, and she cried out, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Oh, Jesus. I’m close. Off, quickly, love.”

Tired but completely sated; Eleanora scrambled backward as Christian grasped his cock.

His entire body shook with his release. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he swiftly cleaned up and tucked his semi-hard erection in his trousers.

“I could go again. But we are almost there if I miss my guess.” He looked up and caught her gaze, giving her such a sultry smile, her insides trembled. “Are you sure you won’t come up to my bed?” Christian’s deep voice rumbled huskily.

“As you said, tea and biscuits. And discuss the case.” Eleanora gave him a teasing wink as she swiftly righted herself.

“But you don’t rule it out? At another time?”

She cupped his cheek, and stroked it affectionately. “No, Chris, I will not rule it out.”

As for the rest?

The future was unknown.

Perhaps she was not quite as adamant about there not being anything between them. But how much was still a muddle.

It should be impossible.

There was no denying the swell of emotion rising in her. Feelings she had not experienced the other two times she had sex. Not even close. This heated physical aspect only deepened her—call it what it is.

Love.

For the first time, Eleanora allowed herself to have hope.

Perhaps—she could have it all.