Chapter Twenty-One
Jamie downed the last of his port and rose abruptly. “Excuse me.” Bowing, he left the men, ignoring their raised brows. He needed to find Alice.
When he entered the parlor, where the women were gathered for tea before the music began, he found her missing. Crossing to where Evie and Liberty sat, he bent low between them.
“Where is Lady Alice?” he murmured.
Evie’s expression turned guilty. “She left. I may be somewhat to blame.”
“What did you say to her?”
“The aunts were being rather obvious with their matchmaking,” Evie admitted. “I might have mentioned the lists and—”
“Hell,” Jamie muttered. “If anyone asks, make my excuses.”
“I’ll tell them you’ve a weak stomach and the soup didn’t agree with you,” Liberty offered.
He didn’t bother to reply, just turned and strode out before anyone could stop him. Had Alice truly gone already?
Snatching his overcoat and hat from the stand, he pushed out into the night. A quick glance right revealed Ezra on the box seat of a carriage, with reins in hand and ready to depart. Shrugging into his coat, Jamie broke into a run.
“Good evening, Ezra.
“Lord Stafford.” The man nodded his head.
“I need to speak with Lady Alice. Drive the long way to her townhouse.”
Opening the door, he found her preparing to rise, and climbed inside, shutting it behind him.
“Get out of my carriage at once!”
“Hello, Lady Alice. Thank you for offering me a lift home,” Jamie said, ignoring her words and settling himself on the seat opposite hers.
“I didn’t. Now leave at once,” she said as the carriage started moving. “I have no wish to be seen alone in here with you!”
Jamie reached forward and shut both curtains. He then turned up the lamp. Suddenly, they were secluded inside the small space.
“How dare you!”
“Why are you angry with me?” Jamie sat back and looked at her.
She was quivering with rage. Her gloved hands clenched on her thighs, and those beautiful eyes were shooting daggers his way.
“I don’t want you in my carriage,” she gritted the words out. “Leave at once, Lord Stafford, or I shall scream.”
“Please do. I doubt anyone would hear you except maybe Ezra. Do you want him and me to come to blows, my lady?”
Color flushed her cheeks, and if anything, the anger made her more beautiful.
Spirited, unlike those vapid women who had fawned all over him this evening.
Perhaps an unfair judgment, as it was not their fault they’d been raised with a single thought.
Marry, and marry well when the time comes for you to do so.
“Why are you angry with me, my lady?” Jamie said again. “Every time our eyes caught, I could see you wanted to lob something at me. Of course, you were too polite to do so, but the sentiment was there.”
She looked down at her hands.
“Alice—”
“Lady Alice,” she snapped, looking at him once more. “And I know about the Crimson Serpent. I know it was likely you that stole the ledger, and that you are paying two women of the night to be your informants! I also know you didn’t tell me, and it’s clear were unlikely to.”
Surprise held him silent for several seconds. How the hell did she get that information?
“So, from that, I gathered you wish to proceed in your investigation into Kenneth Jackson’s whereabouts solo, which is fine with me, as I shall do the same.” She spat the last words at him in an angry hiss.
“I have so many questions,” Jamie said. “The first is, who told you about the Crimson Serpent?”
“Two women at my clinic,” she snapped.
“Clinic?”
She waved his words away, but Jamie persisted. “What clinic?”
“That is none of your business,” she hissed.
He saw by the jut of her chin she was not about to tell him, so he stored that piece of information away for later.
“Yes, you are correct I did those things, and I do have the journal. And,” he held up a hand as she opened her mouth again, “I was going to tell you, but have not had the chance.”
“I am nobody’s fool, Lord Stafford. Had you wished to tell me, you would have called or sent word immediately. You didn’t, and nor did you tell me of your intention to visit the Crimson Serpent—”
“I would not have taken you to the Crimson Serpent, Lady Alice. Never,” Jamie added so she understood. “It is not a place for you. For that, I will not apologize, but I will do so for not alerting you to what I learned when we went there.”
“We?”
“Lords Hamilton and Corbyn accompanied me.”
“It matters not.” She turned to look out the window, which allowed her to see nothing as the curtains were drawn. “I will not work with someone whom I do not trust, and I no longer trust you, Lord Stafford.”
“I did what I felt needed to be done, and will not apologize for that,” Jamie said. “Perhaps I was wrong in not contacting you immediately, but I would have told you what I learned when the opportunity presented itself.”
“I don’t believe you.” The words were cold and hard and spoken to the curtains.
Jamie held himself still, though every muscle in his body screamed to move.
If another man had questioned his word, he would have demanded satisfaction on a field at dawn. That Lady Alice did so with such certainty cut far deeper than a blade could.
“I gave my word, and I keep it. Always, my lady. It is an insult to suggest otherwise. Besides, I sent word—”
“Today, which is two weeks after your visit to the Crimson Serpent.” She didn’t move, just kept her eyes trained away from him.
Jamie let his gaze drift over the soft curve of her cheek and the arch of her proud neck. Her gloved hands were clenched in her lap. She was furious with him, ready to flay him alive with her tongue, and God help him, she had never looked more alive, more beautiful.
“If a man questioned my word,” he said, leaning forward, “I would be extremely displeased.”
One delicate shoulder lifted and fell, dismissing him. The gesture was meant to provoke, and it succeeded. Heat licked through him, mingled with anger and something darker, more dangerous.
“Damn it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I have dealt with this alone for so long, but I did not deliberately keep the information from you.”
“That’s a lie.” Her head whipped around, eyes flashing.
“It’s not. Yes, I wanted to keep you safe, and yes, I am worried about your involvement in this—”
“It is not your right to worry about me. You promised to keep me abreast of everything regarding Jackson and didn’t. Clearly, this is not working, so we shall pursue him alone from now on,” she said.
He surged forward before he could stop himself, his fingers clamping around her wrists.
“You will not pursue this alone,” Jamie said. “I promise to tell you everything from this moment on.”
Her breath hitched as her gaze locked with his, wide eyed, furious, and yet there was something more there in the beautiful amber depths.
The savage need to taste this woman again drove him to pull her into his arms.
“No.” The word held no force.
“Yes,” he rasped as his mouth found hers.
The kiss was rough and born of frustration and fury. She gasped, tried to speak, but he swallowed the sound, angling his head to take more of her.
Jamie knew he should stop but his hand was at the back of her head, holding her to him, his other arm banded around her waist as though he could keep her there forever.
She clutched his shoulders, her fingers biting through the wool of his coat. He felt the tremor run through her body, telling him she wanted this as much as he did.
The carriage jolted over a rut, throwing her hard against him. He caught her, pulling her onto his lap. Her skirts tangled around them both, the faint scent of roses rising as pins scattered from her hair as Jamie slipped his fingers into the thick black mass.
“Tell me to stop,” he rasped against her lips. His chest heaved, his control a thin thread ready to snap. “Say the word, Alice, and I’ll end this.”
Her eyes blazed, cheeks flushed. “It’s wrong to want this.”
“I know.” He kissed her again, slower now, deliberate, savoring her as though he might never have the chance again. “And yet, like me, you do.”
She made a sound, half anger and half need, and pressed closer. His hand slid over the curve of her back, feeling the shiver that coursed through her.
More, the word surged through Jamie. He wanted the warm swell of her breasts in his hands, and to taste every inch of her. I want all of her.
For a moment, he forgot everything—the danger and Kenneth Jackson. There was only her, alive and furious and kissing him as though she, too, had been waiting forever for this.
He parted her cloak and slid his hand inside to touch the silk of her dress. Trace the curve of her spine. One of her hands was touching his neck now. Even gloved, it made Jamie shudder.
This woman was dangerous to him, and right then he didn’t care. Nothing mattered but Alice.
The carriage veered left suddenly, and they parted. Jamie gripped Alice as she fell hard into the carriage door.
“Are you all right?” The words came out a hoarse rasp as his eyes ran over her.
Her lips were swollen, curls tumbling free. The rise and fall of her chest and the quick shallow breaths she was taking showed him she was as affected as Jamie. She had never looked more undone. Never more tempting. He reached out a hand, but she backed away.
“I can’t b-believe we did that, again,” she said. “What is wrong with us?”
“It’s called passion, I believe.”
“Well, I want no more of it,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. He had nothing to smile about, but it was there as he studied her angry expression.
“Unfortunately, there is little to be done about it, when—”
“Well, I will do something about it. In fact, we shall never be in a situation for this to happen again. From this day forth, Lord Stafford, we will have no need to speak to each other any further.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Alice.” The lust rampaging through him was rapidly cooling now. “I will call to speak with you tomorrow and explain everything—”
“No. I don’t want to hear. I will deal with this alone!”
Jamie winced at her shrill tone, and then the carriage slowed to a halt.
“Goodbye, Lord Stafford,” she said, her tone icy.
He beat her to the door and opened it. Stepping down, Jamie held out his hand. Alice looked at it as if it were a seven-headed serpent. He waited, and finally she placed her fingers on his, and he helped her from the carriage.
“Good evening, Alice. I will call upon you tomorrow, and we will discuss my findings.”
“Lady Alice, and I will not allow you entry.” She then raised her chin and walked away from him, and he let her, watching the rigid line of her back until she reached the front door of her townhouse. It opened, and then she was gone from his sight.
Jamie should have told her about the Crimson Serpent. Every instinct said she deserved the truth, yet he’d convinced himself that a few weeks of silence would make no difference. He’d needed time to dig deeper, to be certain. At least, that’s what he told himself.
He’d spent years putting his own safety above all else. After Blackwood Hall, he’d learned to protect what was left of him, never letting anyone close enough to wound him again. His friends were the exception, and even they only glimpsed pieces of him.
But as he stood in the chill night air, staring at the place where she’d vanished, a truth settled heavy in his chest. Lady Alice could reach him in ways no one else ever had. And if he wasn’t careful, she’d be the one to undo him entirely.
“Do you wish for me to drive you home, my lord?”
“No, thank you, Ezra, I shall walk.”
The man nodded, and the carriage rolled away.
After a last look at the Smythe townhouse, he headed toward his own. He had to find a way to get her to understand before she did something reckless. It was just pure luck she hadn’t so far.
But there was so much more to his need to keep Lady Alice safe, even if Jamie refused yet to acknowledge it.