Page 43 of The Scoundrel of Drury Lane
She waited for him to join her beneath the covers and welcomed him into her arms. He was so large that he dwarfed her when he pulled her close. He tucked up the bedclothes around them, and the heat of his skin warmed her chilled body. She’d never lain beside a man before, let alone a mostly naked one, but this felt so soothing.
“I love how warm you are,” she whispered as she tucked her head under his chin.
“I was cold until I met you.” His deep, rumbling response sent ripples of emotion through her. Something was changing between them, something that once it began couldn’t be undone. If she gave in to this, then she would have to have all of him, not just a part. When she loved someone, she loved everything about them, even the darkest parts.
“Kit, if we continue on like this, then I must know you. Therealyou. No more mysteries. Tell me everything.”
“Everything?” He let out a heavy sigh. “So much of what I am is full of darkness.”
She lifted her head up to look at him. He brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes and stroked his thumb over her lips.
“Very well, then you must tell me everything as well,” he said.
She was sure she had far less to tell him than he did her, but she didn’t say that. She merely nodded again.
“How much do you know about your father’s involvement in my conviction?” Kit asked.
“How much?”
“Yes. Tell me everything you know. We must discuss this before anything else.” He stroked her cheek, and she closed her eyes as she savored his touch.
“I honestly don’t know much. He refused to talk about the matter with me, but I remember he was sad and fearful whenever he thought of it.” She could recall him pacing at night, wearing paths in the already threadbare carpets as he walked.
“Fearful?”
“Yes. I always thought he was afraid ofyou. Of what might happen if you returned to London. But—” A flash of an old memory came back.
Kit propped himself up on his hand as he lay beside her. “What is it?” His other hand slid down her shoulder.
“Well, it’s strange. I didn’t remember until now, but his employer paid a call to our home a few days after you were arrested. Papa kept saying you were innocent. They argued fiercely behind closed doors. I was supposed to be in bed, but I remember hearing their raised voices through the closed door. Walsh said, ‘Think of your daughter... What if something befell her?’ I always thought he meant about what would happen if you came back.” Her brow furrowed, and she closed her eyes again. “But now, as I relive it in my mind, I believe his tone was threatening, not concerned.”
Kit’s face was illuminated by lamplight as she saw a spark of new knowledge in his eyes.
“What? What did you think just now?”
“Did your father ever say he thought I was innocent before Walsh came to see you?” He shifted to prop himself up against the headboard.
“Yes... once. But he never talked to me about it. I only heard him muttering to himself one evening after he read about your arrest in theMorning Post.”
“Damnation,” Kit cursed. “He wasn’t paid, then, to testify against me. It sounds as though he may have been blackmailed into it.”
“You thought he’d been paid?” Suzannah flinched. “Did you think that I... benefited somehow?”
He nodded slowly. “That was why I came to find you at the theater. I had to see if you were living lavishly after inheriting your father’s money.”
A bitter laugh escaped Suzannah. “I hope you realize how untrue that assumption is.”
“I do... and it’s all the more clear that they threatened your father into lying by mentioning you.”
She nibbled her bottom lip. “You really think they would have hurt me?”
Kit’s hard stare made her flush with embarrassment.
“Of that I have no doubt. If my father hadn’t saved me, I would have hanged. A friend of mine overheard them talking after they realized I was back. Balfour said he paid the captain of the ship that took me to Australia to throw me overboard, to make sure I died before ever reaching Australia.”
“What?” She bolted up in bed, the covers dropping around her. She pulled his heavy warm robe tighter around her, glad for its warmth.
“They wanted no loose ends. It’s a miracle they didn’t kill your father. Presumably, they left him alive because his death might have been perceived as too suspicious. Luckily for them, he didn’t live long.”
