Chapter Twelve
While sitting across from Franny in the carriage, Edward showed her the button.
Unfortunately, she didn’t recognize his only clue.
Thereupon they sat in silence, staring out the windows.
He wanted to strike up a conversation, but his mind was on other things—Franny’s safety.
Lady Celeste Milton’s stolen jewelry. The red curls covering Franny’s quim…
Just the memory of Franny’s naked cunny made him salivate.
After hearing a crash, he’d found her lying on the floor.
He’d only had a quick glimpse of red hair against creamy skin, but it was enough to whet his appetite.
As the morning wore on, his desire for her grew.
God Almighty, even something as innocent as the way she brushed a strand of hair from her eye had his cock twitching.
At least she didn’t know what he had seen, for if she did, she’d cut off his bollocks.
His palms instinctively and momentarily shielded his crotch from her imagined wrath. He had to pull himself together quickly because if he meant to accomplish all of his goals today, he had to push inappropriate thoughts of Franny to the side.
Hands on her hips, Franny glared at him. The woman’s death stare could stoke fear in Atilla the Hun. He knew damned well she wanted to go into the building with him.
“Stay here, Miss Valentine. Please,” he pleaded. “If you are seen with me, I could be reprimanded, and then I won’t be able to help you.”
She sighed. Loudly. “Fine. I’ll wait here. But hurry.”
An industrious woman like Franny might wither away from boredom if she had to stay in one place for too long.
At least she would be safe because no harm would befall her on a busy street in daylight.
However, since Francine Valentine did not take orders, there was a good chance she would storm into the building boldly announcing her presence, and then their partnership might be over before it had truly begun.
“Please wait here,” he said again. And then, against his better judgment, Edward left her standing a couple of buildings away from his place of work.
Edward’s conscience warred as he hurried into the building, up the stairs, and down the hallway to his office.
Yes, he was ignoring directives, and if all lawmen did this, London would be synonymous with corruption and chaos, but he’d given his word to an injured man and his promise meant something.
Beyond these conundrums, there was one far more pressing.
Men of privilege and in positions of authority must stand against the inequitable treatment females experienced daily, and someone was terrorizing these revolutionary women who dared to defy societal expectations.
This all begged the question, what was a man to do when his duty and his morals clashed?
Edward reached his office and breathed a sigh of relief. Whistling as if he was innocent of any wrongdoing, he slipped inside and locked his door.
One of the clerks had placed Edward’s mail beside The Hue and Cry. A sealed note lay on top of the pile. Hoping it was the news he sought, Edward opened, then read the short, unsigned missive.
Someone came in with the items you described. TW
This was the break Edward needed in his stolen jewelry case. It meant one more stop in his already busy day, so he needed to keep moving. He slid the note into the same pocket that held the button and then retraced his path, this time calling amicable greetings to everyone he passed.
Franny’s disregard for a bonnet meant her wildly blowing hair was visible the second he exited the building.
She’d tried to secure it in a twist, but much like the lady, her thick locks were incorrigible and refused to be restrained.
Every time another strand escaped its confines, Edward was overcome by the desire to tuck it behind her ear.
Wanting to be by her side, he quickened his pace.
As if appearing out of nowhere, Baker approached Franny.
Panic squeezed Edward’s lungs. He lengthened his stride, reaching them in time to hear Baker ask, “What are you doing here, Miss Valentine?” Before she had a chance to respond, Baker whirled on Edward. “She better not be with you, Robinson, because you were told to keep your nose out of my case.”
Perhaps this was a very bad idea, but it was the only solution Edward could manufacture with his brain erratically screaming think!
“Miss Frances and I have quite the past together, so when I heard her name again, it brought back memories. I desired to revisit certain parts of our relationship.” He wrapped his arm around Franny’s waist and pulled her against him.
“I don’t have my nose in your case, Baker.
I have my…” God Almighty, was he actually going to say this?
He cleared his throat and lecherously winked at Baker.
Thunderation, this felt wrong. Edward might be indiscriminate when it came to bedding women; however, he never tupped and told.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what part of me I’m about to put in the lady.
” Acting as if he was a buffoon in a bawdy play, Edward pinched Franny’s arse.
Baker guffawed.
Franny startled and then elbowed Edward in the gut.
Edward chortled through the pain as he pulled her closer. “Darling, watch your love taps. You do not want to render me useless.” As reprehensible as Baker was, he would understand the innuendo. Hopefully, it flew over Franny’s head.
Unfortunately, she stiffened, and her almost imperceptible growl resonated in Edward’s chest. Once they were alone, she would probably render him permanently “useless.” His bollocks stung at the mere thought.
Baker stepped into Edward’s space to whisper, “I’m impressed. How did you convince one of the sapphists to tup you?”
Franny was too close not to have heard the fool.
Edward squeezed her, willing her not to react.
Meanwhile, his disbelief overshadowed his rage.
Baker must not know that one of his so-called sapphists was married to and in love with one of the most influential men in the ton.
How could he not realize he was making a muddle of an investigation in which the Duke of Griffendale had a particular interest?
Beyond that, Edward did not like the sneer Baker made every time he referenced women who loved other women.
In Edward’s opinion, no one was less than because of who they chose to love.
He had no doubts that any female who had a choice between Baker and another woman would be much better served to choose their same sex.
He bit back the insults he wished to hurl at the odious man, turning them into a lecherous wink that Baker would undoubtedly interpret as I’m about to stick my prick in the lady.
“I’m growing impatient for time alone, darling,” Edward cooed into the top of Franny’s head, all the while praying she didn’t thrust that deadly elbow into his pelvis.
“Don’t let me stop you,” Baker said through his unseemly chortles.
Edward spun Franny and forcefully nudged her away from Baker. “Do not say a word,” he whispered.
“You are lucky I don’t break your nose again with everyone on Bow Street watching,” she growled from between clenched teeth.
“Shh,” he murmured, knowing his close murmurs would seem like whispers between lovers to Baker as he guided her down a side street.
To his surprise, her muscles relaxed, and she stopped fighting him. “Keep going,” he whispered. He turned down an alley and dragged her to the end of it. Wrapping her in his arms, he pulled her torso to his.
She gasped, her breath blowing across his cheek. The hair on the back of his neck rose.
“In case he followed us,” Edward said again, nuzzling her extremely soft cheek. Her rosewater scent swirled around him. He couldn’t help but inhale. This farce was doing nothing to temper his desire.
Her body, pressed against his, was warm and feminine, but her angry words brushed his ear. “I had it under control. I was going to pretend to be out for a constitutional. If you had used your brain instead of your bloody male hubris, you would have stayed away until he left.”
Because he was still pretending to be in a scandalous assignation—and most certainly not because he had wanted to touch her hair all morning—he tucked a silky strand behind her ear imagining how soft her long waves would be, blanketing his lap as her lips enveloped him…
What in the devil was he thinking? She’d bite off his prick, and he would deserve it.
“Franny, a man like Baker is single-minded,” he said, his raspy voice betraying his desire. “He would be skeptical that you ‘just happened’ to be in front of his building. But he will believe I am bedding you.”
“And why would he believe that, Robinson? Hmm?” Accusations laced her question as her eyes flashed with fury.
He was no saint, so how was he to answer?
“If you ever pinch my arse again, I will render you useless,” Franny said.
Of that, he had no doubt.
“Now, remove your hands,” she said.
Edward dropped his arms and backed away.
“My name is Miss Valentine to you,” she said as she stomped around him and headed back the way they’d come. “And from now on, knock before entering my office!”
*
Edward told Franny as much as was appropriate about his current investigation as they perambulated to Wagner and Son Jewelers.
As they walked and talked, she relaxed until she no longer reminded him of a leopard about to eviscerate its prey.
She even smiled at every child and animal they passed.
If only she would cast some of that joy in his direction.
“Can I go into the jewelry store with you?” she asked.