Of Silk and Steam
Page 39
The duchess twisted to look at him when he didn’t answer, her slender body lithe in his arms. Leo cleared his throat. “Charlie.” There was nothing more to say. The reality of the situation was beginning to weigh him down again.
“’Ere, lads.” Blade’s voice carried out of the shadows, the man himself followed closely by Rip’s hulking form. “Leave off and get back to duty.”
Three young boys appeared out of nowhere on the rooftops and scampered away. All of them wore the same jerkin with a pair of crossed daggers branded into the leather over their chests, the sign of the Reapers, Blade’s gang.
“Why, look at you.” Blade strode forward, his hands shoved into the pockets of his long leather coat and a curious expression on his face. Catching the reins of the horse, he eyed the duchess. “Gretna’s that way,” he said, tipping his head toward the north.
Amazing how Leo had managed to hold himself together through that thrilling ride, but the familiar sight of Whitechapel—of Blade and Charlie and the rest of the men—was a punch to the chest, reminding him of the nightmare, and of everything that he’d lost. “They know,” he said, his voice roughening. All of a sudden the rookeries didn’t look as inviting as they once had. Damn it, what had he been thinking? There was nowhere safe from the prince consort, nowhere.
Blade’s eyes narrowed, sorting through the implications of those two words.
“I shouldn’t have come here.” Leo started backing the horse up. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You ain’t got nowhere else to go.” Blade snatched at the reins, holding Leo in place, then eyed the duchess. “Dangerous ’ostage.”
“Circumstances and all. Blade, you don’t understand.” Although Leo was starting to. “I just gave him a bloody invitation to start a war. You know what he wants. He’ll use this to—”
“Not ’ere,” Blade snapped. “Back at the Warren. Now.”
“I should never—”
Blade snatched the duchess out of Leo’s arms in a froth of white skirts. “’Ello again, princess.” He tossed her toward Rip, who caught her in his arms. “Make sure she don’t go nowhere. Might be some value in ’er yet.”
“Barrons!” the duchess snapped, one hand curling in the giant’s collar, her eyes flaring wide.
Leo’s eyes narrowed.
Blade slapped a hand on his knee. “Don’t make me throw you over me shoulder too. It ain’t seemly.”
A half dozen of Blade’s men were watching, having followed him out of the alley. Charlie shot Leo a grin, leaning against the gate with his arms crossed in amusement, as if silently daring him to throw down with Blade.
Leo didn’t have the strength of will right now to argue. Rubbing at the bridge of his nose he sighed, then slid his leg over the horse’s rump and landed with a stagger at Blade’s side. “You’re a fool.”
“We always knew it would come to this,” Blade replied in a low voice. “You ain’t the cause. You’re just the catalyst. Besides, ’Onoria would wring me bloody neck if I let you leave and do somethin’ noble and stupid, like sacrifice yourself.”
Tossing the reins to Charlie, Blade lifted his voice. “Spread the word, boys. It’s martial law in the rookeries. Women and children inside at all times, and I want the menfolk out ’ere on the walls.” Blade slung an arm over Leo’s shoulder and started leading him toward the Warren. “And look sharp! As soon as you spot a pasty face, I want to ’ear of it.”
* * *
Blade’s insouciance wore off the closer they got to the Warren. Snapping orders at those they met, he forced Leo through the door and shut it behind them. Rip was inside, the struggling duchess in his arms and his metal hand clapped over her mouth.
“’Ow’d they find out?” Blade asked.
“I trusted someone I shouldn’t have.” A dark look at the duchess.
Blade laughed under his breath. “Always the pretty ones you gotta watch your back wit’. Wouldn’ta thought you’d lose your ’ead over the Ice Queen, though.”
“What the devil is going on?” a voice called from the top of the stairs, and Honoria appeared with a shawl draped over her shoulders. “Is that the Duchess of Casavian?” Her eyes widened. “Did you kidnap the duchess, Blade? Are you insane?”
“Not me, luv.” Blade started up the stairs, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Your brother decided life were gettin’ borin’. Thought ’e’d turn pirate or somethin’.”
Brother, she mouthed. “Blade—”
“It’s all right,” Leo called, following him. “No point hiding the truth anymore. The prince consort called me out on it an hour ago.” He paused at her side. “They know I’m a bastard.”
Her dark eyes softened. “And?”
“The prince consort wants my head on a spike.”
Honoria’s breath rushed out of her and she looked at Blade, half shaking her head. “No. No, I won’t let them—”
“It’s all right, luv.” Blade squeezed her hand. “’E ain’t goin’ nowhere. The prince consort wants ’is ’ead? Then ’e’s goin’ to ’ave to go through me.”
Warm arms curled around Leo as Honoria hugged him. He staggered back a step, taken by surprise. Her heavily rounded stomach was a barrier between them, making him slightly uncomfortable, but that didn’t stop her. And then her shoulders shook and he realized she was crying.
He couldn’t ever recall Honoria crying. Honoria, who was made of firmer pluck than most men.
Blade shrugged and made a circular motion in front of his stomach, mouthing, “The baby.”
“We won’t let anything happen to you,” Honoria said, lifting her head and drying her eyes with the back of her hand. “I promise.”
The very idea that she intended to protect him struck him by surprise. “Honor…” He had no idea what to say to her. And then it hit him. The duke hadn’t stood by him. Only Lynch and Malloryn had offered a word of defiance. But this…
His sister. His arms curled around her and he lowered his chin onto the top of her head, soaking up the sensation of her warm body. Closing his eyes and resting, just for a moment. He was so fucking exhausted, and somehow insulated, as if the true effects of the day hadn’t yet penetrated.
“’Ere, lads.” Blade’s voice carried out of the shadows, the man himself followed closely by Rip’s hulking form. “Leave off and get back to duty.”
Three young boys appeared out of nowhere on the rooftops and scampered away. All of them wore the same jerkin with a pair of crossed daggers branded into the leather over their chests, the sign of the Reapers, Blade’s gang.
“Why, look at you.” Blade strode forward, his hands shoved into the pockets of his long leather coat and a curious expression on his face. Catching the reins of the horse, he eyed the duchess. “Gretna’s that way,” he said, tipping his head toward the north.
Amazing how Leo had managed to hold himself together through that thrilling ride, but the familiar sight of Whitechapel—of Blade and Charlie and the rest of the men—was a punch to the chest, reminding him of the nightmare, and of everything that he’d lost. “They know,” he said, his voice roughening. All of a sudden the rookeries didn’t look as inviting as they once had. Damn it, what had he been thinking? There was nowhere safe from the prince consort, nowhere.
Blade’s eyes narrowed, sorting through the implications of those two words.
“I shouldn’t have come here.” Leo started backing the horse up. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You ain’t got nowhere else to go.” Blade snatched at the reins, holding Leo in place, then eyed the duchess. “Dangerous ’ostage.”
“Circumstances and all. Blade, you don’t understand.” Although Leo was starting to. “I just gave him a bloody invitation to start a war. You know what he wants. He’ll use this to—”
“Not ’ere,” Blade snapped. “Back at the Warren. Now.”
“I should never—”
Blade snatched the duchess out of Leo’s arms in a froth of white skirts. “’Ello again, princess.” He tossed her toward Rip, who caught her in his arms. “Make sure she don’t go nowhere. Might be some value in ’er yet.”
“Barrons!” the duchess snapped, one hand curling in the giant’s collar, her eyes flaring wide.
Leo’s eyes narrowed.
Blade slapped a hand on his knee. “Don’t make me throw you over me shoulder too. It ain’t seemly.”
A half dozen of Blade’s men were watching, having followed him out of the alley. Charlie shot Leo a grin, leaning against the gate with his arms crossed in amusement, as if silently daring him to throw down with Blade.
Leo didn’t have the strength of will right now to argue. Rubbing at the bridge of his nose he sighed, then slid his leg over the horse’s rump and landed with a stagger at Blade’s side. “You’re a fool.”
“We always knew it would come to this,” Blade replied in a low voice. “You ain’t the cause. You’re just the catalyst. Besides, ’Onoria would wring me bloody neck if I let you leave and do somethin’ noble and stupid, like sacrifice yourself.”
Tossing the reins to Charlie, Blade lifted his voice. “Spread the word, boys. It’s martial law in the rookeries. Women and children inside at all times, and I want the menfolk out ’ere on the walls.” Blade slung an arm over Leo’s shoulder and started leading him toward the Warren. “And look sharp! As soon as you spot a pasty face, I want to ’ear of it.”
* * *
Blade’s insouciance wore off the closer they got to the Warren. Snapping orders at those they met, he forced Leo through the door and shut it behind them. Rip was inside, the struggling duchess in his arms and his metal hand clapped over her mouth.
“’Ow’d they find out?” Blade asked.
“I trusted someone I shouldn’t have.” A dark look at the duchess.
Blade laughed under his breath. “Always the pretty ones you gotta watch your back wit’. Wouldn’ta thought you’d lose your ’ead over the Ice Queen, though.”
“What the devil is going on?” a voice called from the top of the stairs, and Honoria appeared with a shawl draped over her shoulders. “Is that the Duchess of Casavian?” Her eyes widened. “Did you kidnap the duchess, Blade? Are you insane?”
“Not me, luv.” Blade started up the stairs, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Your brother decided life were gettin’ borin’. Thought ’e’d turn pirate or somethin’.”
Brother, she mouthed. “Blade—”
“It’s all right,” Leo called, following him. “No point hiding the truth anymore. The prince consort called me out on it an hour ago.” He paused at her side. “They know I’m a bastard.”
Her dark eyes softened. “And?”
“The prince consort wants my head on a spike.”
Honoria’s breath rushed out of her and she looked at Blade, half shaking her head. “No. No, I won’t let them—”
“It’s all right, luv.” Blade squeezed her hand. “’E ain’t goin’ nowhere. The prince consort wants ’is ’ead? Then ’e’s goin’ to ’ave to go through me.”
Warm arms curled around Leo as Honoria hugged him. He staggered back a step, taken by surprise. Her heavily rounded stomach was a barrier between them, making him slightly uncomfortable, but that didn’t stop her. And then her shoulders shook and he realized she was crying.
He couldn’t ever recall Honoria crying. Honoria, who was made of firmer pluck than most men.
Blade shrugged and made a circular motion in front of his stomach, mouthing, “The baby.”
“We won’t let anything happen to you,” Honoria said, lifting her head and drying her eyes with the back of her hand. “I promise.”
The very idea that she intended to protect him struck him by surprise. “Honor…” He had no idea what to say to her. And then it hit him. The duke hadn’t stood by him. Only Lynch and Malloryn had offered a word of defiance. But this…
His sister. His arms curled around her and he lowered his chin onto the top of her head, soaking up the sensation of her warm body. Closing his eyes and resting, just for a moment. He was so fucking exhausted, and somehow insulated, as if the true effects of the day hadn’t yet penetrated.
