Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
His eyes felt small and squinty, and his mood was even darker than normal as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Mungo and Calder had searched for hours last night and spoken to anyone they encountered.
They’d then caught a hackney to the Baddon Boys headquarters, hoping the voice inside his head would tell him where to go next.
It had remained silent. He’d tried to find a way to get inside the fortress with his brother’s help, and failed. Frustrated, they had returned home.
The light had drawn him to the kitchens, and he thought Bud would be there, but he’d found Eliza Downing instead.
The creak of floorboards above told him she was awake now, too, even though, like him, she’d not been in her bed long.
Was she still in her nightgown with her long hair in a braid over one slender shoulder? The dressing gown had been thick and warm, the same color as a mouse’s fur.
Seeing her like that, soft and approachable, not buttoned into one of her dresses, had made him stay. He’d wanted to be close to her in that moment. Wanted something to chase away the dread for Fenella inside him.
She’d made him tea, and for a brief moment, they’d had peace between them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that comfortable with a woman who was not part of his family.
“What is it that draws me to you?” His eyes were on the ceiling still as he lay wondering if she was dressing for the day. Was she standing in a thin chemise, or was she seated on the bed, pulling stockings up those long legs of hers?
Clenching his eyes shut briefly, he stopped his thoughts. Rising seconds later, Mungo washed in icy water, forcing his body to forget the images of Eliza Downing.
He would start the fires, as the day would be another cold one. Today they’d find Fenella, he vowed, or he would keep looking this time until he did.
There was a scratch on his door, and he opened it. Chester trotted in and then sat, tail swishing, to look up at him with big brown eyes.
“What do you want?”
The tail kept swishing.
“I’m not sure why you think I’d give you a treat, considering you steal my boots, Chester.” Mungo scratched behind a soft ear, and the dog sighed. “Just one, and then you’ll leave, and this will be our secret.”
Chester let out a soft woof of agreement.
Mungo then pulled the small piece of dried meat from the tin he kept beside his bed and broke a piece off for the dog. “You’ll take it nicely, Chester.”
The animal took it gently from his hands and then settled down to eat it while Mungo pulled on his boots and laced them.
Suddenly, there was a muffled shriek followed by a loud thud above his head—and then silence. Seconds later, he heard Eliza’s feet moving around the room again, but fast this time. Mungo left his room and took the stairs two at a time.
He pounded his fist on the door. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her voice was muffled, but not because she was on the other side. This was more like she held something over her mouth.
“I heard you shriek. Open the door, Eliza, or I’ll keep knocking and wake the entire household.”
He heard her footsteps, and then the door opened a crack. He could see half of her face.
“Go away.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened.” Her words came out a nervous squeak. She then looked over her shoulder.
“Let me in.”
“Absolutely not.”
Mungo pushed the door gently, and then he and Chester entered.
His eyes moved around the room, and there was only one word for what he saw.
Chaos. Miss Eliza Downing was never chaotic.
She was neat and controlled. Everything had its place, and he’d even go so far as saying she rivaled him in her need for order.
“What’s going on, Eliza?”
She was clutching a book to her chest as if it was a shield. Squeaking came from his right then, and Eliza shrieked and leapt on the bed, the book tumbling to the floor with a loud thud.
He had no reason to laugh. His estranged brother had reentered his life, bringing with him the news that Mungo’s niece was missing, and yet, he felt a smile tug his lips.
“This is no laughing matter, Mr. Mungo.”
While she was clothed in one of her neat dresses, her hair was loose and her feet bare.
It hung past her shoulder blades, and the thick tresses curled up slightly at the ends.
Whatever she’d put it in overnight had made it curl, and he wanted desperately to touch it. Wrap it around his hands and kiss her.
Focus, Mungo.
“Are you scared of mice, Eliza?”
“What—no, definitely not,” she said, eyeing the pile of clothing that was mounded in a corner of the room. “Nothing scares me.”
“So if I move those clothes, you’ll be fine if a furry little rodent runs out?”
She actually shuddered.
“Would you like me to take a look at what is going on behind that pile of your clothing?”
“Ah, I would, please.” She said it reluctantly, as if the words themselves confirmed what they both already knew. Eliza Downing was terrified of mice.
“Chester, go and make Eliza feel better,” he said to the dog.
The dog trotted over to the bed and jumped up.
Mungo glanced at the title of the book, curious what this woman would be reading, and noted it was The Holton Agency Etiquette Manual.
“They have their own manual?”
“It’s important that all the girls understand what is expected from them,” she said in a prim voice that only shook slightly.
“And you’ve memorized every one, I bet.”
She didn’t answer that as he removed the pile of clothes, then crouched and looked through the piece of missing baseboard. He didn’t expect to see anything, but he did it for her.
“There is nothing there at the moment, but I’ll replace this board today. Will that make you feel better?” Mungo turned to look at her where she was sitting cross-legged on the bed with her arms around Chester’s neck.
This terrified Eliza was so at odds with the put-together governess he knew. Yes, he’d seen her vulnerable, and sad, but not completely scared.
“Where did your fear of mice come from?”
“If I continue to deny it, can we leave it there?” she asked the top of Chester’s head.
The dog was more than happy with his current situation, as he was receiving pats and hugs.
“No.”
She sighed.
Mungo rose and took one of the books off her nightstand. He then placed it against the hole.
“I should have thought of that.”
“Clearly I’m more intelligent than you.”
His words didn’t make her smile.
“You’re safe, Eliza. No mouse will come into your room, and I’ll make sure this board is replaced by tonight.”
“It’s not rational,” she said slowly. “But my brother put one in my bed once, and ever since, I’ve hated the sound they make and their eyes.”
“My brother put a nest of spiders in my bed. I can’t stand the sight of them still,” he said, telling her something he’d never told anyone.
“I shall protect you from spiders if you protect me from mice,” she said solemnly.
He nodded, unsure how he felt about the fact they now had more secrets shared between them. It felt like this woman was working her way inside him, and he didn’t know how to stop that from happening. Worse yet, he didn’t think he wanted to.
She released Chester, and Mungo clicked his fingers. The dog leapt off the bed with a weighty sigh like it was his job to go downstairs and light the fires, not laze about in front of them.
“I’ll see you downstairs, then.”
“Thank you for coming to my rescue.” After another look at the book, she got off the bed. Patting down her skirts, she gave him a brisk nod. “It’s my hope that your niece is found today.”
She wanted him to leave. He knew that. He didn’t go.
“Well,” Eliza said when the silence stretched between them.
“Why did your uncle throw you out of his house?” That one thought had hounded him all night. What person did that to a young girl who had already lost too much?
He’d contemplated revenge on her behalf. What he’d say to the bastard who shared her blood. The man who had turned from her when she was most in need.
Color flushed her cheeks, but she did not look away. “I have no wish to speak of that, as I told you last night.”
He moved closer, deliberately intimidating her. Or perhaps not intimidating her—perhaps only needing to be near her, to breathe the same air, to see what emotion flickered in those dark eyes.
“Have you seen him since?”
“I have not.”
The tension thickened, wrapping around them.
“Where did you go?” he asked quietly.
“I was old enough for employment, so I found some. How old were you when you left Scotland?” She raised her chin as if daring him to continue his interrogation because she would do the same.
“Fifteen,” he said.
“Why did you leave?” she asked.
“Why did you?”
Chester whined as if sensing the tension.
She was so beautiful, from the elegant curve of her brow to the soft line of her chin.
“Mungo.” She whispered his name, but it wasn’t a warning, as it should have been. It was a plea.
“Eliza,” he rasped back, and then he was lowering his head.
She didn’t step away. She didn’t even breathe.
His hand rose of its own accord, brushing a stray curl from her cheek. The soft tremble that moved through her shot straight through him, tightening every muscle in his body. Her skin warmed beneath his fingertips, and he felt himself slipping, losing the rigid control he prided himself on.
“Mungo, we should not do this,” she whispered. But the answering heat in her eyes betrayed her.
A pulse fluttered at her throat, a rapid, tiny beat. He traced it with his thumb, and her lips parted on a soft involuntary sound that nearly undid him.
He leaned in until their breaths mingled.
“We shouldn’t, because neither of us are thinking clearly,” he whispered against her lips.
Her hands came to rest lightly against his chest, palms burning through the thin fabric of his shirt. That single, tentative touch broke something inside him.
“Eliza.” He whispered her name as she had his.
He cupped the back of her neck, his thumb sweeping along her jaw as he drew her the final inches toward him. She rose up on her toes, and their bodies aligned.
Their lips met, soft at first, barely a breath of contact, as though either one of them might still run.
She didn’t.
He couldn’t.
Mungo slowly took the kiss deeper, desperate for more of this woman, but not wanting to scare her. Eliza’s hands slid higher to wrap around the base of his neck. The moment she pressed her body closer to his, all restraint shattered.
He drew her into him with a low, guttural groan, his hand splaying across the small of her back. Her lips were warm and opened beneath his.
She gasped softly as his other hand slid to her waist. Her fingers tangled in the hair at his nape, tightening when he deepened the kiss again. Mungo was drugged with smell and taste of Eliza.
He broke away only to trail his lips along her cheek and down to the delicate length of her jaw. She shivered violently, her breath catching.
“Mungo… this is wrong…. We shouldn’t….” Yet she tilted her head, offering him more.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against her skin.
But she didn’t speak.
He lifted his head to look into her eyes. They were shining with longing and lust.
“You terrify me,” she whispered.
He brushed her lower lip with his thumb. “Good. Because you terrify me too.”
He kissed her again, slower, sweeter, as though memorizing the shape of her mouth. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.
He wanted her. God, he wanted her.
But wanting and taking were not the same.
Breathing hard, he forced himself to loosen his grip. She stayed close, her forehead resting against his for a moment longer, their breaths mingling as if neither wished to break whatever spell held them suspended.
“Eliza…” he whispered.
Her voice trembled as she replied, “Yes?”
“If I don’t step back now, I won’t be able to.”
She swallowed. “Then step back.”
It cost him more strength than any battle he’d ever fought, but he did.
Barely. Just enough space for air to move between them again.
But the heat remained.
Christ, what had he just done again?
“Eliza, we… I—”
“Just go,” she whispered. “There is so much going on around us. We should not—”
“Aye.” He gave her one last long look before turning and walking away.