Breathless (The House of Rohan 3)

He shook his head. “She knew. ” He pulled out the piece of cloth she’d given him and opened it, though he knew what would lay in its bunched-up folds. He shoved the ring in his pocket, then brought the cloth to his nose. Violets.

He glanced up at the elegant house, the door closed against intruders. “I’ve got more business here,” he said abruptly.

“Jacob …”

“Shall I call you a hackney, Molly lass? I may end up in Newgate or I’d offer you a ride home when I’m done. ”

She looked at him for a long, frustrated moment. And then she smiled and shook her head. “You’re a fool, Jacob. Who would have thought to see King Donnelly laid low by love? It would fair turn one’s stomach if it weren’t so sweet. ” She stretched. “I’ll walk. It’s not far and my bum is fair killing me after all that jolting around. The girl’s got the right of it—you weren’t born to be a coachman. ”

“God only knows what I was born to be,” Jacob muttered. “Mind if I borrow yon trunk?” He nodded toward the smallish trunk that was bound up behind the black coach.

“Will I get it back? You could always give me yon ring in return for it if no one has a use for it. ”

“I have a use for it. And you know I’m good for whatever the cost. You’d never wear one of those dresses again if you could help it. ”

“Aye,” Long Molly said. “Have at it, yon Romeo. Go rescue the damsel in distress. ”

He’d hoisted the heavy trunk on his shoulder with relative ease. “You’ve got your stories mixed up. ”

Molly shrugged. “You’re the one who can read, not me. Let me know what happens. ”

“I expect you’ll hear about it,” he said, half to himself. And he mounted the front steps.

Her family’s servants didn’t want to let him in, of course. Not in the front door. And the footman tried to take the trunk from him, but since he towered over all of them they didn’t have much recourse. “Where’s thy mistress?” he demanded. “I promised her I’d see this into no one’s hands but hers. ”

“I don’t believe that is Miss Pagett’s trunk,” the superior-looking butler began, but Jacob, recognizing the opposing commander in this particular battle, went straight toward him, towering over the man.

“I promised Miss Pagett I’d be bringing her trunk directly to her,” he said in his best Irish. “Would you like to try an’ stop me?”

The butler moved out of the way hastily, and Jacob continued on into the house.

It smelled of beeswax and lemon oil and old money, and he took a deep breath, resisting the impulse to curl his lip. He didn’t need to ask the way—he could hear Jane’s fiancé lecturing her in an upraised voice, and he headed in that direction.

He took the steps lightly, two at a time, the heavy trunk on his shoulder. They were in a small parlor near the top of the first flight, and he paused in the doorway.

Jane was sitting in a chair, her shoulders bowed, her head down, as her fiancé loomed over her, bullying her, yelling at her.

“I cannot believe you would be so lost to all sense of propriety that you would simply take off, with nothing but a note from one of the most notorious men in London to set their minds at ease. And that you would accompany a strumpet of Lady Miranda’s reputation goes beyond all understanding. For all her titled family I would have disallowed the connection the moment we were married, but I thought you had the delicacy to keep your association with such a reckless and unacceptable personage quiet. But no, you must needs go haring off to the ends of the earth with her, sending word back to your parents that you were ‘assisting’ her in a marriage by special license to a man whose name with which I shall not soil my lips. Are you so lost to all sense of propriety—to what is due to my consequence as your affianced husband—that you would do such a thing? Your understanding must be pathetic indeed, not to have considered what this must look like. ”

“Mr. Bothwell, I beg pardon. I’m sorry …” Her voice was thick with choked-back tears, and Jacob’s rage momentarily blinded him.

“Silence!” Mr. Bothwell thundered. “Do you have any idea what kind of people you spent the last few days with? That … that man is a member of the Heavenly Host, and you know what they are, Miss Pagett? Satanists. Devil worshippers, who sacrifice children and practice the most obscene behavior, and he’s arranging for them to join him in what I can only term an—” he lowered his voice for a moment in whispered disgust “—an orgy, to celebrate his marriage to that doxy! God knows what will happen to her, but she is only reaping the result of her own unspeakable behavior. Behavior that you have chosen to emulate! I cannot think how I was fool enough to affiance myself to someone so lost to all sense of what is fit and proper. I cannot cry off, but I will speak to your father, and I don’t doubt we can make some kind of arrangement to sever this distasteful association without causing harm to my reputation. Yours, I’m afraid, is beyond repair, and I—”

“Excuse me,” Jacob said, having had enough of this, striding into the salon. “Where were you wanting me to put this, Miss Pagett?”

Jane looked up, her face streaked with tears, and he would have clocked Bothwell and had done with it, until he looked at the joy in her eyes as she looked at him, and everything fell into place like a puzzle. He knew what he wanted, what he needed, and it was suddenly very simple.

“How dare you interrupt your betters?” Bothwell shouted at him, clearly happy to bully anyone he thought would have to take it. “Get out of here, or I’ll have you turned off immediately. ” He turned back to Jane. “As for you, Miss Pagett, I’ll have my ring back. You …”

“Excuse me,” Jacob said again, turning on his heel, calculating it perfectly. The trunk on his shoulder slammed into Bothwell’s head, and he went down like a stone.

Jacob lifted the trunk down and set it on the floor, leaning over Bothwell’s motionless body. He gave him a none-too-gentle nudge with his boot, but the man didn’t move, knocked cold.

“Pity,” he said in his normal voice. “I didn’t mean to knock him out. ”

Jane had leaped up. “You didn’t?”

He looked over at her, grinning. “No. I was hoping for the chance to hit him a few more times. ” He tilted his head, observing her. “I think, lass, that you gave the wrong man back his ring. ”