“How do you know that?” She couldn’t hold back the question even though she realized he wouldn’t like it—she had to know.

Jeremy shook his head and blew out a frustrated sigh. Gina could tell he hated speaking of the man—of giving him even a jot of recognition. “He cannot come back. There are many who would end him if given the chance, and he knows it.” He closed his eyes as if his head ached.

“You were not the first woman he hurt. I found a father and a husband of another he attacked, and there is also Luc, the man who went to retrieve Marguerite. Strawnly’s time is marked, and has been. He’s as good as dead, I’d wager.” He frowned at her, and his voice got that harsh edge again. “I don’t like you thinking about him—of being afraid.”

She took his face in her hands. “You misunderstand. Don’t be angry. I do not fear him for myself anymore. My only fear is losing you to another fight or attack should he challenge you, for I know you would defend me. That is the truth, Jeremy. You nearly died, and it was more terrifying than anything that ever came before—”

His demanding lips cut her off as they descended on hers, open and warm. It was a possessive kiss. One that told her exactly who she belonged to.

Georgina did not mind as his seeking flesh swept into her mouth and brushed over every surface it could reach. She welcomed the warmth and wet of their tongues mating in a declaration of sorts. An “I love you and you are mine” kind of kiss. One they could both appreciate and recognize.

* * * *

Jeremy shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold of the season. The solarium of Sir Rodney’s London townhouse was quite pleasant actually, and the sun’s valiant efforts were a bonus for December. No, his shivers were involuntary and happened whenever he allowed himself to think of Gina

being groped and terrorized in the paws of that madman, Strawnly. He tried not to fall prey to those horrible images, but the visions popped into his mind at the oddest times—

Jeremy looked up to the sound of the door opening.

“Sir, your scheduled callers are here,” the old butler announced.

“Thank you, Wiggins, show them in please.”

Wiggins shuffled off and returned eventually with two people in tow, one of which to whom Jeremy was deeply indebted.

“Mr. Ned Smith, Coachman, and—” Wiggins paused in his address, giving the unkempt boy a look of fright, as if the boy might bite at him or do something worse, like soil the carpet.

“Danny.” The boy finished the butler’s address for him and bobbed his own head.

Jeremy stood and grinned like a devil. Wiggins backed out of the room and shut them all in together, shaking his head in disbelief the whole way.

“Master Danny, at last! I’ve wanted to thank you, young man! You did us a good turn, helped to rescue my wife, and for that you deserve a reward. What have you to say?” Jeremy asked the boy, thinking he’d send him directly to the kitchens after this interview for a hot meal and a good scrubbing.

“Thank you, Mr. Greymont, sir. It’s a right thing to help a lady when she’s needin’ it. I’m pleased I could help your lady—er…Mrs. Greymont.”

“Again, I am indebted to you for your assistance, Danny.” Jeremy bowed.

Danny bowed back, a look of awe on his thin, dirt-smudged face. He tried to look Jeremy in the eye, but couldn’t help from wandering his gaze around the room, taking in the elegant furnishings, evidence of wealth he couldn’t really imagine when all he’d ever known was the poverty and hunger of life on the harsh London streets.

“Do you have any family that you know of?”

“No, sir. They told me at the work house I’ve no Mum or Dad.”

“You don’t stay at the work house anymore?”

Danny frowned. “I run away from there, sir. They was very mean. I get more food fending for myself…” He trailed off and peeked up at Jeremy, afraid he’d said too much.

“I see.” Jeremy put a finger to his lips. “Mr. Smith tells me you fancy the horses. You come every day and help with jobs in the stables. He thinks you have potential, Danny.”

“Oh.” Danny seemed unimpressed at first then looked as if he thought better of his response. “Is that a good thing, sir?”

“Do you know what the word ‘potential’ means, Danny?”

“No, sir.” Danny shook his head.

“It means you have the capacity, the ability, and the hope to succeed, if you’ve the will and the mind to learn. So here is my offer. You may have a place in my household, as a paid man, and under the tutelage of Mr. Smith here, in the goal of becoming a driver for me. Honest work, mind you, horsemen labor well, Danny, but you’ll have a safe and comfortable home for as long as you want, away from the hard streets, and you’ll never need worry about your meals again.” Jeremy gave Danny a polite nod.

Danny stayed silent, but Jeremy could see a tremor run through the boy, and fear. By Jeremy’s best guess, he looked to be around twelve or thirteen and didn’t quite know how to take in all the adulation, surely never had any, and was rightly wary of such foreign attentions.

Tags: Raine Miller Somerset Historicals Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net