Page 42 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

The two of them did what needed to be done as quickly as possible, then set out for the village. They could have gone straight to Aylesford, where they were more likely to catch a mail coach, but Jeremy could not leave without first saying goodbye to Clary.

“Just like that? You’re leaving?” Clary asked, heartbreak in her eyes when Jeremy entered her shop and broke the news.

“I must go,” Jeremy said with a slight, helpless shrug. “The men who have been searching for me have found me.” He had agreed with Derrek not to tell much more of the story than that to Clary, lest she be discovered as Jeremy’s friend and interrogated by the wrong people.

“I do not know what I will do without you,” Clary said, bursting into tears and throwing her arms around Jeremy.

Jeremy hugged her back as though she were a sister. He had never had a friend as close as Clary, and it was its own kind of tragedy that the two of them must be parted.

“If you are ever in London,” he told her, holding her at arm’s length and looking earnestly into her eyes, “you must search me out at once. My tailoring shop is on Jermyn Street, and if ever you find yourself in need of employment, if ever you want to change your life and your fortunes entirely, you must come to me at once.”

“I will, my friend, I will,” Clary said, then threw herself at him again.

It was the most painful goodbye Jeremy had ever been forced to make.

“If I did not know any better, I might be jealous,” Derrek said with a sympathetic look as the two of them left the shop and continued to the Three Bells to inquire of Martin whether there would be a late mail coach passing through or whether they would need to go to Aylesford.

Jeremy sniffled and wiped his eyes, trying his best to behave in a manner more seemly for a gentleman when his heart was broken. “Friendships are as true a form of love as any,” he said sadly. “I shall miss my friend most acutely.”

Derrek reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “I swear to you that you and Miss Jones will sew together and create mischief together again someday. I swear to you that this matter of Princess Victoria and Sir John Conroy and the enmity that that man has for you will end as well if it is the last thing I ever do.”

“I sincerely hope it is not the last thing,” Jeremy said, his heart overflowing with affection for his champion. “I have a great many more things I should like to do with you before everything is over and done.”

Derrek chuckled and squeezed his shoulder once more. There were no guarantees that they would find any greater happiness or safety in London than they’d found in the country, but at least he could return to his shop at last, and at least they could still strive to be together.

Fifteen

For the second time in as many months, Derrek found himself jostling through the night in a clattering, crowded mail coach, only this time he and Jeremy were headed toward London instead of away from it.

He was not pleased. It did not matter how many times he assured himself that returning to London was the proper thing to do and that he had reached the limit of ways he could both protect his dove and work to ensure that the king and Princess Victoria remained in as good of health as was possible, given the circumstances, he was unhappy with giving up his domestic, pastoral life.

Worse still, because the mail coach carried three other men, all of them rougher than Jeremy and not particularly inclined toward conversation, Derrek could not even display the affection that all but consumed him where Jeremy was concerned.

Damn Lord Albert for interrupting what should have been a wonderful morning. As delightful as what he and Jeremy had shared the night before had been, Derrek had very much been looking forward to taking his time with his dove and treating him to every sort of pleasure imaginable. He’d dreamed about burying himself deep within Jeremy and having that particular communion bring both of them to outstanding climax. It was something he should have pursued long before in their country exile. It was not within his character at all to wait so long and enjoy so many other forms of affection before the ultimate one. And now God only knew when he would have another chance.

No, not just God. If Derrek had anything to do about it, he would have Jeremy back in his arms that very night, once they were safe and Jeremy was tucked away so that neither Lord Albert nor Conroy nor anyone or anything in all the world could hurt him. And Derrek was absolutely determined to keep Jeremy safe. Even if he had to wrap him in cotton wool and tuck him on a high shelf for his own good. He could not lose the love of his life twice.

They arrived in London just as dawn was beginning to break. Somehow, Jeremy had managed to sleep through the last few hours of the journey. He was awakened by the jostling of the carriage as it came to a halt and their fellow passengers pushed and scrambled to exit the conveyance as swiftly as possible.

“Where are we?” Jeremy asked in groggy tones, lifting his head from where it had flopped onto Derrek’s shoulder. Seeing as one of the other passengers had fallen asleep on his companion, Derrek had not bothered worrying what the others would think of their proximity in sleep.

“We’ve reached London,” Derrek said quietly, biting his tongue on the endearments he sorely wished he could call his dove. That was not to be as long as they were surrounded by the teeming mass of humanity that flooded London’s streets.

“Oh,” Jeremy said, sitting fully straight and stretching as best he could in the emptying carriage.

He said nothing more as he and Derrek climbed out of the carriage and into the yard of the coaching inn where it had come to rest. Two of their companions from the drive went straight into the dozy old inn, but Derrek had other plans for himself and Jeremy.

“I shall be glad to get back to my shop to see how the lads have managed with repairs and fulfilling orders,” Jeremy said as they collected their baggage and headed out of the inn’s yard, more awake by the moment. “I did have a few letters from them in our time away and I believe they are managing adequately, but I am eager to take up my place at the head of my own ship once more.”

Derrek grunted and searched up and down the street outside the inn for a carriage they could hire. Jeremy had received a scant few letters in the time they had been gone. They’d been sent along with correspondence from Moreland, Wilmore, and others from The Brotherhood who had kept Derrek informed of the situation with the king and the princess. He’d not gone into any detail with Jeremy about how the young man, Artie, from his shop believed his master was residing with Lord Wilmore at Swanmore Glen, or about his own correspondence, but Jeremy had been too satisfied with his country life and happy to hear from London to ask.

“I do hope that I am able to bring my business back up to where it was before my departure,” Jeremy went on with a yawn as Derrek spotted a hack for hire and waved at it. “One can only hope that one’s reputation has been built solidly enough that returning to London might be a cause for celebration, not to mention a flood of new orders.”

“Most likely,” Derrek said, paying only cursory attention.

The last thing he wanted was for Jeremy to announce his return to London. Not when the likelihood of Lord Albert informing Conroy as to Jeremy’s whereabouts was so strong. Just because the two of them had avoided danger in the gamekeeper’s cottage at Maidstone Close for nearly two months did not mean the danger was gone.

The hack pulled up beside them, and Derrek held the door to help Jeremy inside. Once his dove was seated and seeing to their baggage, Derrek stepped around to the driver, giving him directions to The Chameleon Club.

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