Slipping along the dark New York streets, May worked on a plan. Find a hotel, spend the night—that was first. Try to answer an ad for a lady’s companion or perhaps a nanny. If all else failed, she’d approach the Wurtses. She didn’t know if William’s infatuation with her or with her connection to a duke would help, but she couldn’t rule it out.
But she wouldn’t go back to England. Especially not to marry some pompous lord. Barrett thought he was keeping her close but once she was married she was at her husband’s whim. She’d return to her family in time, having lived her life her way.
She knew the Ritz was only seven or eight blocks away so she kept walking. Seeing a group of men up ahead, she took a right down a side street, thinking she could avoid them and easily find her path again.
But the street kept veering further to the right, she cut down a street to the left, hoping to find her way again but it didn’t lead back to Fifth Avenue. Her heart began to beat faster as she looked around.
The buildings were changing, tenements replaced the upscale structures of a block ago. Should she turn around and backtrack?
Spinning to do just that, she saw a man walking casually behind her. He was several feet back with his hands in his pockets. Should she keep going forward or go back toward him? Ask him for help?
She could cross the street and then backtrack, which seemed safest. She should have hired a hack but she’d wanted to save her pin money for the hotel.
Crossing, she started back the other way but her heart jumped into her throat when the man crossed too and began to follow.
Moving faster, her eyes searched for the road she turned from. If she could just make it back to Fifth Avenue, she might be safe.
A glance over her shoulder near made her scream. He was moving closer, and another man was just behind him, following them both. She was close to running now, watching over her shoulder. Taking a quick glance forward, a third man suddenly stepped in front of her. She tried to scream but a hand clamped over her mouth.
“Well aren’t you a sweet little treat.” He leered at her and even in the dark, she could see the gaps in his teeth. Black holes that allowed his stinking breath to blow across her face. “Somebody would like a word with you.” His smiled broadened and she tried to pull away. A yelp escaped around the hand covering her mouth when her body bumped into another solid mass.
Heart hammering so loudly she could barely hear, she tried to skirt to the side but the third man was there and she was pinned.
Their hands touched her as they pressed closer and nausea rose in her stomach. She didn’t mean to but tears leaked from her eyes as she put up a futile struggle to get free.
“He didn’t say she’d be so pretty.” One of them reached out to squeeze her breast through her clothes. A scream built in her chest as her heart hammered wildly.
“I don’t see why we can’t have a little fun first,” the other grunted, pressing closer.
A hand reached under her skirt, traveling up her leg. She wrenched to the side, but another body prevented her movement. Sick dread made her movements jerky and rational thought was next to impossible as another hand pulled at her pantaloons and the fabric ripped. Nausea made her weak and she fought to remain present. She had to fight.
She cried out but the sound was muted from the hand still clamped over her lips.
She tried to wrench her head to loosen his grip and bite at his fingers but just as she turned the hand was gone. She heard the thud of a body hitting the stone street. The man behind her disappeared. Turning her head the other way, she caught sight of Loudoun’s face, fury making the hard angles of cheeks and jaw look chiseled from stone.
Before she could even cry with relief, his fist had landed in the face of her third assailant and the man dropped to the ground without making a sound.
And then his arms were around her, yanking her back the way she’d come. When she stumbled at the force of it, he swept her into his arms and carried her through an alley and out onto a much brighter street. “What the bloody hell were you thinking?”
He had every right to ask. But she just couldn’t answer. Relief made her limp and she buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent and the strength of his body.
Though she hadn’t felt it, her hair had come loose during the struggle. His fingers wound into the strands, cradling her head. Giving a gentle tug, he pulled her head back to look at him. His voice rough with emotion, he asked, “Do you know how much danger you were in?”
Looking in his eyes, still narrowed in anger, her own voice caught as she tried to speak. “Lucius.” Her arms wrapped around his neck.
“I told you that New York wasn’t safe. That you shouldn’t be wandering alone, at night no less. Who were you meeting?” His grip around her waist tightened almost painfully.
“Meeting?” She looked at him in confusion.
“What bloody fool sent you out into the night by yourself? I’ll tear him to pieces.” Loudoun flagged a passing hack, that promptly stopped.
Barking out the address, he snapped open the door and carried her inside, sitting on the back bench with her in his lap.
“Is yer wife all right then?” The driver called down as he snapped the reins.
“Fine,” Loudoun responded. “Just hurt herself on a loose stone.”
“Oh, ye’ve got to watch out for those,” the driver answered as the horse picked up speed.
Loudoun leaned next to his ear. “If you were my wife, you wouldn’t have been out at night like that.”
“If I was your wife, I wouldn’t need to,” she replied, but couldn’t muster any anger and instead snuggled her head back into his shoulder.
“Why were you out?” His voice had calmed some, and his arms were wrapped like a blanket around her.
She shook her head. “When I was twelve, I tried to run away. I’d found out that my cousin, Lizzie, was considering marriage to a complete cad to keep me safe. I didn’t want to ruin her life so I left in the middle of a snowstorm. It went about as well as this.” She shook her head and that was when the tears started. “I told myself I could make it on my own. But I’m completely useless, apparently.”
“You were running away?” Loudoun looked at her completely aghast. “To where? To do what?”
“To not marry Lord Rutland for starters,” she bit back, some of her tears drying. “I don’t think these things through properly. That’s my first problem.”
“I’d say so.” His eyebrows raised. “I should put you over my knee and spank you for the scare you gave me.”
A retort started from her mouth about how she wasn’t a child, how he had to stop treating her like one but, the truth was, she’d acted like one tonight. “You probably should.”
He sucked in his breath and leaned back, his eyes going wide. Suddenly she had an image of herself being splayed across his lap, his hands touching her behind, moving between her… She closed her eyes. For so many reasons, now was not the time.
“May,” his husky whisper was full of pent up emotion. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Both times she’d run away, she’d nearly died. Those men had frightened her. Thank goodness Loudoun had gotten there when he did. “I’m going to be the death of myself,” she said shaking her head.
He shot back up, his hand squeezing her tight again. “Don’t even think it.”
“Think what?” she blinked at him, trying to understand.
“You just said you were going to be the death of yourself.” He gave an exasperated breath.
“Oh, I only meant, my foolish attempts at running away.” She shook her head. “But I’ll not marry Rutland. That I am sure of. I’ll have to return to England though, I suppose. Lizzie will take me in. I can be a school mistress or lady’s companion.” In this moment, she realized she didn’t want to marry Wurts either. She’d rather be alone than suffer a marriage of convenience. She knew Barrett would be hurt after his attempts to make a strong match for her but he’d forgive her in time.
“Honest to goodness, if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to lose my mind.” One of his hands left her back and began to rub his temples.
“Allow me.” She unwound her hands from his neck and, brushing his hand aside, began to lightly massage the skin around his eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve given you such stress. Thank you for saving me.”
He groaned, his hand moving back into her hair. “Keep doing that and I might forgive you.”
“What would I have to do to earn more than forgiveness?”
Loudoun stilled underneath her fingers. Her body was pressed close to his, every curve fitting perfectly against him as her gentle fingers rubbed at his skin.
Her silky hair caressed his fingertips and her breath was fanning his cheeks in the most intimate way.
Part of him wanted to tell her she’d earned everything he had to give, his heart, soul, and body, but he couldn’t say it. He shouldn’t give her that kind of hope. He’d already told her he was too broken to really give her the love she deserved. “May,” his voice held a warning. Because if he started talking, who knows what might slip from his lips.
The carriage rolled to a stop. “No talk of feelings or futures,” she whispered. “But please don’t just send me back to my room. I don’t want to be alone.”
He slid her onto the seat and then paid the driver. Swinging her back into his arms, he started carrying her inside. Partially because of what he’d told the driver, but mostly because he liked the feel of her.
He should just drop her in her room. It was a dangerous idea, spending time alone with her. But he’d been frightened too. More than he had been in a long time. So as foolish as it was to stay with her, he didn’t want to leave her alone where he couldn’t keep his eyes and his hands on her. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
Carrying her up the stairs, he entered her room and set her down on a chair. Pulling her sheets up through the window, he closed it and then crossed to the fire to stoke it. Her eyes followed him about the room and it made the tension curling in his belly tighter still.
He turned, his eyes finding hers. He could see the hunger lighting them. “I’ve told you, I’m no good for you.”
“We’re not talking about that, remember?” She gave him a falsely bright smile.
“Let’s just say for a moment we were talking about it. The prudent thing to do would be to ask me to leave.”
She silently assessed him and then stood, crossing the room where he stood in front of the fire.
“You should also likely stay on the other side of the room.”
“I’m cold.” She slipped her arms around him.
He wrapped his around her too. She always knew exactly how to brush past any barrier he put up.
“Lucius,” she began.
“When and why did you start calling me by my given name?” He settled her closer.
“You had your head between my…” she stopped, blushing. “I thought it appropriate.”
He grinned then. “It is, indeed.”
“Since we’re talking about what we’re not supposed to, do you honestly think I will be happier with Wurts or Rutland?”
He sucked in his breath. She was too smart for her own good. “With one of them, I won’t have to see your disappointment and know that I caused it.”
“You’ll just have to picture me with Rutland. He’s likely fat and gap-toothed.”
He tilted her head back to look up at him. He laughed he couldn’t help it. “With a clubbed foot.”
“And what would my children look like?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Most likely, just like their father.” His eyebrows drew together. May having another man’s children was completely unacceptable.
“Instead, I could be with you, and we could have little golden-haired girls wearing pink ribbons in their hair.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper.
He couldn’t help it, his head dropped lower to hear her. “No. They’ll have chocolate brown curls that bounce as they run and laugh.” His lips brushed hers and the image of beautiful May holding the hand of his little girl who looked just like her filled him with such warm longing that he ached from it.
“And a boy too,” she murmured against his lips. “Who’ll grow big and strong.”
“Will he grow bitter and resentful?” Loudoun lifted his head then. “Like me?” He pulled a little further away. “My parents didn’t love me, May. They looked at me with nothing but disappointment and disdain. What if I do that to our children?”
“You won’t.” She shook her head. “I know you have love in your heart.”
“No one has ever loved me, May. I’m not worth it and I don’t know how to give it.”
“I love you,” she whispered, tightening her grip. “Don’t say anything. I didn’t have the love of my parents either, but I was loved. And I could give it to you, if you’d let me.”
“I don’t know how.” He kissed her forehead. “But thank you for trying. It means so much that you did.”
He pulled away then, because another second and he’d forget every word and tumble her onto that bed. Even now a piece of him screamed to throw caution to the wind, make love to her and then deal with the consequences tomorrow. But even as he thought it, he knew it was so selfish, and he needed to do what was best for her.
“Goodnight, May.” Unwinding his arms from around her, he dragged himself to the door. How had she not grown tired of the sight of his back?