Of Silk and Steam
Page 32
To say yes.
“Come.”
The word stole her wits, sending her over the edge. Mina grabbed at the console, pressing her other hand to her lips and sinking her teeth into it as a breathy noise tore from her throat. Barrons’s thigh pressed between hers as his hand withdrew, and she gasped out her pleasure.
The world reeled around her, leaving her with only Barrons for balance. The dark heat of him evaporated off his coat, until all she wanted to do was bury herself in his arms and fight to still the raging heat in her blood.
Instead she pushed at him, forcing him to back away a step, leaving her hot, flushed, and aching. At the sight of the satisfied smile curling over his mouth, she slapped his arm. A husky laugh hummed through his body. She wanted to kiss him so much that she ached. She’d never felt like this before. “You’re a madman.”
“And you, my duchess, are exquisite.” His expression sobered. “Come with me.”
“I can’t,” she told him, stepping out of the way of the press of his body. She needed some space to clear her mind. Her blood might be cooling, but the merest breath of his cologne did damaging things to her insides, setting her nerves alight again. “Some of us have responsibilities. And can you imagine the scandal?”
“I’ve never given any particular care to what others think of me.”
That made her furious. “Of course you haven’t! For it wouldn’t truly matter to your reputation if I said yes. I can’t be your lover. I can’t afford to be. And”—her brow darkened, though she wasn’t certain if she was angry at him or herself—“I’m not quite certain it would be worth my downfall.”
Snatching at her hat, Mina started for the door in a swish of skirts, her blood boiling. All she knew was that she had to get away from him.
Barrons strode after her, heels echoing on the metal walkway as she hurried down the stairs. “Mina, wait.”
“No!”
One of Galloway’s men saw them coming and started, unclasping his hands from behind his back. “May I help you, sir?”
“He was just leaving,” Mina told the fellow coolly.
“Actually,” Barrons replied, “I want to place an order for something like this.” His soft laugh followed her, meant for her ears alone. “I’m told the cost is substantial…but I live in hope of a trip to Paris in the near future.”
Nine
The moment she stepped inside her home, Mina let out a sigh of relief. Here she could rub at her temples to try and still the pounding headache Barrons’s words had caused.
Slipping through the hallways, she avoided most of the staff by dint of her supernatural hearing. The sun had nearly reached its zenith, leaving her desperate to reach her bed. Two days without sleep left her feeling slow-witted and dull, as evidenced by what had occurred at Galloway’s. If she’d been in her right frame of mind, she’d have laughed in his face.
Instead she’d melted like flavored ices in the sun.
What was she doing? She might have destroyed the evidence against him, but she still despised his father. Her feelings for Barrons were far more uncertain.
If she stripped away the history between them and looked at him as just a man, she had to admit that she found him quite charming and humorous at times.
Come to Paris… Make love to me… Mina swallowed. A foolish part of her was almost tempted.
If she were honest with herself, she almost…liked him.
A scream cut through the stillness of the early morning silence. Mina froze, her heart jacking into her throat and her foolish daydreams vanishing. That had come from her bedroom. Another one followed it, dying to a helpless sob.
Yanking the door open, she stepped inside, the hilt of a knife warming her palm. Her maid, Hannah, sobbed in the middle of the room, her hand pressed to her mouth and the curtains stirring over the open sash of the windowpane.
“What in blazes is—” Mina’s gaze fell on the bloodied mess in the middle of her bed. Her gloves made a slapping sound as they hit the floor.
“Oh, Your Grace…Your Grace…”
She ignored the maid’s helpless sobs and took a step closer, her face draining of heat. Bloodied fur. That was all she could see. Someone had been in her house. In her room. Someone had… Her mind shied away from the thought.
“I swear I didn’t hear anyone come in! I don’t know how…how it came to pass.”
Mina crossed to the window, moving as if through a nightmare. Twitching aside the curtains, she stared down at the street with its early-morning passersby, gentlemen in tweed coats and top hats making their way to their place of employment. Across the road, the same man who’d been watching the house the day before looked up from his newspaper, meeting her eyes.
The slightest hint of a smile tugged his moustache upward and he tipped his hat to her, tucked his folded newspaper under his arm, and sauntered away with a whistle.
Mina’s fingers curled into the window frame. A message from Balfour—or the prince consort, no less. Why? They couldn’t know about her humanist plans or else there would have been no message, merely an escort of Coldrush Guards.
What if that had been Hannah or one of her other servants? If a Falcon could get at her here, then what did that mean for those that surrounded her?
“You’re dismissed,” she said hoarsely.
“Of course, Your Grace. Let me ring for Grimsby…” The maid caught her teary breath. “And then I’ll see that poor…poor Boa—”
“Dismissed,” Mina repeated sharply, turning on the girl. “I’ll provide you a reference and a generous stipend, but I want you gone by luncheon.”
Hannah’s jaw dropped, her eyes welling up again. Mina forced herself not to weaken. Oh, you dear girl, I’m trying to save your life. Far better to be well away from here.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Hannah whispered, proffering a curtsy. “I shall send Grimsby up.”
From the footsteps on the stairs, he was already on his way. Her father’s faithful butler had been with the household since the day she was born.
The door clicked behind Hannah, giving her a moment of peace. Mina shut her hot eyes, wilting a little. This is war, her mind kept saying, but it doesn’t feel like it. No, it felt like the only place she’d ever been safe was gone now. They’d been in her bedchambers. And her cat—fat, pampered Boadicea… Mina couldn’t even look at her.
“Come.”
The word stole her wits, sending her over the edge. Mina grabbed at the console, pressing her other hand to her lips and sinking her teeth into it as a breathy noise tore from her throat. Barrons’s thigh pressed between hers as his hand withdrew, and she gasped out her pleasure.
The world reeled around her, leaving her with only Barrons for balance. The dark heat of him evaporated off his coat, until all she wanted to do was bury herself in his arms and fight to still the raging heat in her blood.
Instead she pushed at him, forcing him to back away a step, leaving her hot, flushed, and aching. At the sight of the satisfied smile curling over his mouth, she slapped his arm. A husky laugh hummed through his body. She wanted to kiss him so much that she ached. She’d never felt like this before. “You’re a madman.”
“And you, my duchess, are exquisite.” His expression sobered. “Come with me.”
“I can’t,” she told him, stepping out of the way of the press of his body. She needed some space to clear her mind. Her blood might be cooling, but the merest breath of his cologne did damaging things to her insides, setting her nerves alight again. “Some of us have responsibilities. And can you imagine the scandal?”
“I’ve never given any particular care to what others think of me.”
That made her furious. “Of course you haven’t! For it wouldn’t truly matter to your reputation if I said yes. I can’t be your lover. I can’t afford to be. And”—her brow darkened, though she wasn’t certain if she was angry at him or herself—“I’m not quite certain it would be worth my downfall.”
Snatching at her hat, Mina started for the door in a swish of skirts, her blood boiling. All she knew was that she had to get away from him.
Barrons strode after her, heels echoing on the metal walkway as she hurried down the stairs. “Mina, wait.”
“No!”
One of Galloway’s men saw them coming and started, unclasping his hands from behind his back. “May I help you, sir?”
“He was just leaving,” Mina told the fellow coolly.
“Actually,” Barrons replied, “I want to place an order for something like this.” His soft laugh followed her, meant for her ears alone. “I’m told the cost is substantial…but I live in hope of a trip to Paris in the near future.”
Nine
The moment she stepped inside her home, Mina let out a sigh of relief. Here she could rub at her temples to try and still the pounding headache Barrons’s words had caused.
Slipping through the hallways, she avoided most of the staff by dint of her supernatural hearing. The sun had nearly reached its zenith, leaving her desperate to reach her bed. Two days without sleep left her feeling slow-witted and dull, as evidenced by what had occurred at Galloway’s. If she’d been in her right frame of mind, she’d have laughed in his face.
Instead she’d melted like flavored ices in the sun.
What was she doing? She might have destroyed the evidence against him, but she still despised his father. Her feelings for Barrons were far more uncertain.
If she stripped away the history between them and looked at him as just a man, she had to admit that she found him quite charming and humorous at times.
Come to Paris… Make love to me… Mina swallowed. A foolish part of her was almost tempted.
If she were honest with herself, she almost…liked him.
A scream cut through the stillness of the early morning silence. Mina froze, her heart jacking into her throat and her foolish daydreams vanishing. That had come from her bedroom. Another one followed it, dying to a helpless sob.
Yanking the door open, she stepped inside, the hilt of a knife warming her palm. Her maid, Hannah, sobbed in the middle of the room, her hand pressed to her mouth and the curtains stirring over the open sash of the windowpane.
“What in blazes is—” Mina’s gaze fell on the bloodied mess in the middle of her bed. Her gloves made a slapping sound as they hit the floor.
“Oh, Your Grace…Your Grace…”
She ignored the maid’s helpless sobs and took a step closer, her face draining of heat. Bloodied fur. That was all she could see. Someone had been in her house. In her room. Someone had… Her mind shied away from the thought.
“I swear I didn’t hear anyone come in! I don’t know how…how it came to pass.”
Mina crossed to the window, moving as if through a nightmare. Twitching aside the curtains, she stared down at the street with its early-morning passersby, gentlemen in tweed coats and top hats making their way to their place of employment. Across the road, the same man who’d been watching the house the day before looked up from his newspaper, meeting her eyes.
The slightest hint of a smile tugged his moustache upward and he tipped his hat to her, tucked his folded newspaper under his arm, and sauntered away with a whistle.
Mina’s fingers curled into the window frame. A message from Balfour—or the prince consort, no less. Why? They couldn’t know about her humanist plans or else there would have been no message, merely an escort of Coldrush Guards.
What if that had been Hannah or one of her other servants? If a Falcon could get at her here, then what did that mean for those that surrounded her?
“You’re dismissed,” she said hoarsely.
“Of course, Your Grace. Let me ring for Grimsby…” The maid caught her teary breath. “And then I’ll see that poor…poor Boa—”
“Dismissed,” Mina repeated sharply, turning on the girl. “I’ll provide you a reference and a generous stipend, but I want you gone by luncheon.”
Hannah’s jaw dropped, her eyes welling up again. Mina forced herself not to weaken. Oh, you dear girl, I’m trying to save your life. Far better to be well away from here.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Hannah whispered, proffering a curtsy. “I shall send Grimsby up.”
From the footsteps on the stairs, he was already on his way. Her father’s faithful butler had been with the household since the day she was born.
The door clicked behind Hannah, giving her a moment of peace. Mina shut her hot eyes, wilting a little. This is war, her mind kept saying, but it doesn’t feel like it. No, it felt like the only place she’d ever been safe was gone now. They’d been in her bedchambers. And her cat—fat, pampered Boadicea… Mina couldn’t even look at her.
