She found herself curious about Sir Thaddeus lying upstairs in his bed, as helpless as a newborn babe. “I suppose he’s been largely unconscious these past few days.”
“No, quite the contrary. He’s been mostly awake.” As Pip accompanied her out of the drawing room, she caught a gleam in his eyes, a hint of an emotion she’d never detected in him before. “I find myself enjoying my little visits to my father’s sick chamber. The doctors advocate I talk to him, you see, so I relate to him everything I can think of. The poor man cannot respond, but he understands every word I say.”
“How can you tell?”
“Oh, he retains some movement in his left eye. It bobs this way and that whenever I chat to him.”
“And what do you talk about?” Nellie asked, her curiosity even more piqued.
“What I intend to do to the house, who I’ll invite to dinner, what parties I’ll be attending, all my plans for the future, really. It’s most entertaining to relate my schemes to my poor, helpless father.”
They were at the head of the grand staircase leading down to the front door. Nellie glanced at the stairs winding up to the floor above. Somewhere up there lay Thaddeus, paralysed and mute, but perfectly cognisant of everything around him. And Pip, aware of this, was deliberately embarking on a calculated journey of retribution. Thaddeus, she was sure, would have preferred death to being at the mercy of his son. But it was none of her business now. Her life and her future lay elsewhere.
She said her goodbyes and left the house forever. Outside, the sullen clouds overhead parted momentarily to emit a thin ray of light. She stood and lifted her head to savour the watery sunlight before it disappeared. A few passersby cast curious glances at her, but she merely smiled at them.
On the other side of the street, Julian was waiting for her. He gazed directly at her, his black hair falling untidily around his sombre, bruised face, his lean figure carelessly elegant and beautiful, his eyes intent upon her. Her heart leaped. Never would she tire of the sight of him. Her feet skipped across the cobblestones, carrying her towards him. As she approached, she noticed a gaunt street urchin strolling away, an empty muffin tray tucked under his arm.
“You’ve been eating muffins?” She gave Julian a teasing smile. “You’ll spoil your dinner.”
“That depends what we’re having for dinner.” The smile he gave her in return did not quite reach his eyes. He quirked an eyebrow at her. “So?”
She turned to her horse and patted its neck. “So, I believe Mrs. Tibbet is making roast suckling pig with parsnips.”
“Nellie…”
She smiled in apology. “Thaddeus is permanently incapacitated. He is paralysed from the neck down and cannot speak, but it appears his comprehension is intact.” It dawned on her that with Thaddeus forever silenced, Julian might never get the knowledge he craved. Her smile faded. “There’s not much hope of asking Thaddeus about your mother. I’m so sorry, Julian, but perhaps some of the servants would know about his sister’s governess, or there may even be some correspondence in the house. I could ask Pip—”
“Oh no, don’t trouble yourself. I’m over that.”
“You are? But you’ve gone to such lengths. It’s been so important to you.”
He gazed down the street at the departing muffin boy. “I was young and headstrong, but I’ve learned my lesson. Whoever my mother was, I know she cared about me, and she left me in the best hands possible. That’s all I need to know.”
Nellie stared at him. “You came to this conclusion while you were waiting for me?”
“No, on the night Thaddeus was shot.” He offered her an apologetic smile. “It’s taken me a few days to adjust, but now I’m here standing outside the Ormond house, I’m convinced it’s the right decision.”
Would she ever fathom this complex man? Ever since that eventful night he’d been preoccupied, but she’d assumed he was plotting a new strategy. It seemed incredible that he should give up a quest he’d pursued so relentlessly. But she saw that he meant it, and her heart lifted for him.
“I’m glad, Julian. Truly, I am.”
“So am I.” He leaned against the iron railings. “There are far more important things to occupy my mind.”
“Such as?”
“Such as, what of you and Pip? How did he react to your sudden resurrection?”
“With great shock, of course, but Pip has matured somewhat in the past few days. I think he’ll find happiness in the future.” She cast him a sidelong glance. “He suggested I live here in Mayfair with him, as I’m still married to him.”
Julian grew rigid. His eyes glinted at her like granite. “And?” he ground out between clenched teeth.
“I declined, much to his relief. No, Pip and I would never have been happy.” She inhaled a breath and squared her shoulders. “So, I will soon be a notorious divorcee.”
He continued to glower at her. “You seem very cheerful at the prospect.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I am free to commit adultery with whomever I want.”
His gaze sharpened. His shoulders bunched up beneath his jacket. “No, you are not. Not if I have anything to do with it.”
At the sight of his thunderous expression, happiness came bubbling up in Nellie. She’d never felt so light- hearted, so carefree, and she knew it was because of this man she’d learned to trust and love. Safe in the knowledge of his tenderness for her, she could truly give free rein to every passion and desire she felt for him.
Bending forward, she cupped his cheek in her gloved hand. “You’re right, Julian. You have everything and more to do with it. But will you be happy with a fallen woman?”
“Let me demonstrate how happy I can be.”
His eyes glowed as he put his arms around her and lowered his mouth to hers. Uncaring of the shocked passersby, he kissed her with renewed emotion, his initial gentleness melting into searing ardour that ignited all her senses. She kissed him back fervently, so drunk on the sweet perfection of the moment that when he finally lifted his head she let out a small moan of protest, only gradually becoming aware of what a spectacle they were providing.
He pressed the pad of his thumb against her throbbing lower lip. “Come, my sweet, let’s hasten home, or we will be dining on porridge tonight.”
She didn’t care what they dined on, but she knew how they would spend the night. They mounted their horses, and soon they were speeding back home.
The muffin boy looked on as the gentleman and his lady cantered away down the road and disappeared around a corner. He rubbed his stomach, which was straining with the unfamiliar weight of several muffins. Tonight he’d sleep easy with all that food in his belly. He’d use some of the money that gentleman had given him to buy his urchin friends muffins too, or maybe some nice beef pies.
He slipped his hand into his trouser pocket to reassure himself the coins were still there. As he did so, he touched something else and drew out the object. The brooch, fashioned to resemble a bee, was the prettiest thing the boy had ever seen. The gentleman had said it was made of real diamonds and rubies, that it would sell for a good sum. The boy wasn’t so sure about that. If it was valuable, why would the gentleman give it to a complete stranger, and a street urchin at that? Still, it was beautiful, and he didn’t have much beauty in his life.
He pocketed the brooch, and as he sauntered down the street, he began to whistle a jaunty tune.
About the Author
Coleen Kwan has been a bookworm all her life. At school English was her favourite subject, but for some reason she decided on a career in IT. After many years of programming, she wondered what else there was in life—and discovered writing. She loves writing contemporary romance and steampunk romance.
Coleen lives in Sydney, Australia with her partner and two children. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys avoiding housework, eating chocolate, and watching
Contact Coleen at her website www.coleenkwan.com and sign up for her newsletter. She can also be found on Twitter www.twitter.com/ColeenKwan and on Facebook
