ng, Sir Frisk,” Jeremy told the dog, stooping to pat him on the head.
Frisk thumped his tail in answer.
What Strawnly had not known was that Jeremy owned the ship, Excelsior, he’d boarded that night. The family business was in shipping freight mostly, and occasional passengers, in and out of England. It was how the bulk of the family income was derived. The added insurance of putting one Mr. Gordon Tanner and a Mr. Joseph Parkins on board was to guarantee that Strawnly wouldn’t walk off the ship when it docked on the continent at Cherbourg. He wouldn’t walk. He wouldn’t breathe.
Mr. Tanner was a successful tradesman in London, and he loved his only daughter, Emma, very much. Mr. Parkins was assistant to Mr. Tanner, and he, too, loved Emma. The young couple was set to marry when the unthinkable happened. She was brutally attacked by two men who hurt her so badly that her hearing was permanently deafened in one ear.
Tanner and Parkins were in the tanning trade in London. The trade was considered base and contemptible by some, but necessary commerce just the same, and a profitable business for one willing to get his hands dirty. And from what Jeremy had heard, Gordon Tanner was acknowledged as the best in the field of his chosen profession of tanning. More specifically, the process of removing hides from carcasses and turning them into leather. Tanner was wickedly skilled with a knife.
And for a man so skilled as Tanner was, with vengeance in his heart toward the beast who had dared to savage his beloved daughter, that degenerate shit, Simon Strawnly, was due a hide-full of hurt before he paid for his sins.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Charity and Mercy. Not unholy names, I hope?
—Charles Dickens, Martin Chuzzlewit (1844)
“You know, I think a Yuletide party would be just the thing, dear. Jeremy is recovering so well, and a party would be perfect for introducing you now that he’s gone and finally married. We’ll invite your family as well.” Lady Bleddington patted Georgina’s hand affectionately. “There were times I despaired he would ever get around to it.” She clucked, pursing her lips in reprimand.
Georgina smiled up at her before focusing back on her book of Keats’s poems, of which she had read and re-read the same page too many times to count.
Jeremy’s grandmother was a sweet old dear, but she liked to talk. Ruminating over their marriage, his attack and near death, and the possibility of an heir provided more excitement than the woman had experienced in decades, and they all had to hear about it. Still, her affection for her grandson was apparent, and she fussed over her and Jeremy both just like, well, a grandmother, so Georgina didn’t really mind.
“What do you think, Georgina dear?” Lady Bleddington repeated, her voice hopeful.
“Of what, Lady Bleddington?” Georgina snapped her book closed, figuring she might as well give up on the poetry for today.
“Oh, I do wish you’d call me Grandmamma. We are family now after all.” She stabbed the yellow rose she was embroidering on the pillow rather fiercely. “I always hoped for a granddaughter, but Clarissa and Henri—there was only Jeremy.” She trailed off and seemed a little sad in her remembrances of her daughter before returning to her stitching.
Georgina reached over and touched Lady Bleddington’s hand. She squeezed gently. “Thank you for welcoming me so kindly. I never knew either of my grandmothers, so you will be my first.” Her voice faltered a bit. “When we were at Hallborough, Jeremy showed me her portrait. His mother, your Clarissa. She was very lovely.”
“Lovely it’s true. A sweet darling, but unwise in her choice of husband. Sadly, she married a man who cared for nothing save her money.” Lady Bleddington covered Georgina’s hand with her other one. “Not like you, dear. Our Jeremy loves you. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you. I can even tell when he speaks of you. Your choice was a good one, and I’m not just prejudiced because he is my grandson. I reckon anyone could know it if they watched you two together.” She brought her hand up to cup Georgina’s chin. “It makes me happy to see Jeremy so well matched. You ease him and have brought a light into him that’s not been there since he was a boy.”
Georgina nodded, her lip trembling with emotion. “As he does for me. He is my savior, you know. I love him so very much.”
“I know that, too, dear.” She embraced Georgina in an affectionate hug, then pulled back and returned to her embroidery as if they had just been discussing something as mundane as the weather.
A moment of silence stretched out before she spoke up again. “So is that a ‘yes’ to a party, my dear?”
“Yes, Grandmamma, it is.” Georgina cracked a wide grin. “A party shall be just the thing.”
* * * *
Jeremy spooned against her back, his lips at the base of her neck, his hand nestled between her breasts. Cuddled in bed with a warm, clove-scented man, her man, was divine, Georgina thought. Her very much alive man, thank the heavenly angels! But was this near miss the end of their worry from that evil Strawnly? Would there be more from him? More extortions for money? She shifted restlessly in the bed.
“What ’smatter?” Jeremy mumbled sleepily, his fingers wandering to find her breast.
“Just thinking.” She covered his big hand with her own smaller one. “Sorry for disturbing you. Go back to sleep.”
“Thinking ’bout what?” He nestled closer and spoke softly at her ear. She felt his tongue reach out to trace the lobe and shivered into his very hard and prodding erection pressing into her backside.
“Him.”
Jeremy froze against her. He sighed. The sound of it sailed through the room like a flaming arrow and the erection so urgent a moment ago lost every bit of its urgency.
“What if he comes back or wants more money? I can’t bear the thought—” She rolled to face him so she could see his eyes. If she could look into his eyes, she might be able to read his expression.
It was harsh at first but softened quickly. “Hush now,” he said firmly, pulling her close. He stroked her back, kissed her forehead, held her a little tighter. “You are not to worry about him again. I mean it, Gina, don’t.” He pushed back to find her eyes. Despite his gentle touches, his blue eyes showed a lethalness that made her shiver. “He’s not coming back to England.”