A Rake's Midnight Kiss (Sons of Sin 2)

“Are you all right?” He strode toward her.

“I was in my room.” She turned to him, pale with fright. She wore her scholarly outfit, a pale blue muslin dress under a dauntingly efficient pinafore sewn with multiple pockets. “Someone’s thrown a rock through the window.”

“Come here.” He opened his arms and as naturally as a snowdrop grew upward in spring, she flung herself at him, pressing her cheek to his heart. His poor, reckless, longing heart.

Too soon she withdrew and stared up at him. To his astonishment, he read trust in her eyes. He’d never imagined she’d look at him like this. Damn it, now that she did, he never wanted that radiance to fade. “I hate being on edge all the time. I hate being at the mercy of these thugs.”

“We’ll come through this.” He glanced past her to the study. Shards of glass littered the threadbare carpet. His eyes sharpened. Perhaps this wasn’t merely an act of wanton vandalism. There was a sheet of paper tied around the stone that had caused the damage. He moved past Genevieve and crunched across the glass to pick up the rock.

“What is it?” she asked, just behind him.

“Be careful. The glass could cut through your slippers,” he said, even as he untied the string holding the note.

“What is it?” she repeated more urgently as he unfolded the crumpled sheet of paper.

Disbelieving fury set the words dancing before his eyes. “Fairbrother has Sirius. He’ll shoot him unless you deliver the Harmsworth Jewel within the next half hour.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Pulse skittering with nerves, Genevieve crept through the trees toward the ruined Cistercian Abbey that had once dominated Little Derrick. Her sweaty palm tightened around her pistol.

She’d expected shouting, but she only heard murmuring. Strangely that scared her more than raw aggression. Her belly clenched with trepidation. Not only because of Lord Neville’s proximity, but because Richard wouldn’t appreciate her going against his instructions.

He’d been adamant that he’d rescue Sirius alone. He’d refused to take the Harmsworth Jewel, although she’d begged him to carry it in case he needed to exchange it. Which if nothing else convinced her that somewhere during the last day she’d learned to trust him.

He seemed sure that a brace of pistols and self-assurance could vanquish Lord Neville. Genevieve wasn’t so sure. Lord Neville now knew that Richard was handy in a fight, and despite his lordship’s stipulations that Genevieve come alone, he must assume that she’d turn to last night’s rescuer.

But with time so short, she couldn’t persuade Richard to take her. Instead he’d sent her to alert the duke and Hillbrook. She’d found George and given him a note for Sedgemoor, then she’d rushed to this isolated spot.

She was terrified for Richard. Lord Neville had every advantage in this meeting. Well, every advantage save what she knew about the Harmsworth Jewel.

“… no jewel, no dog, I’m afraid.”

Lord Neville’s oily tones made her skin itch with loathing. Just seeing him took her back to those suffocating moments when he’d crushed her beneath him. She sneaked nearer, crouching behind a pile of stones.

“I haven’t got the jewel.” Richa

rd sounded careless and confident. “It belongs to Miss Barrett.”

She chanced a peek. Richard stood with his back to her while Lord Neville lounged against a lichened tomb, gun in hand. The scratches on his face stood out vividly, she noted with bloodthirsty satisfaction.

“Not for much longer.” Lord Neville’s other hand held Sirius on a short rope leash. Coarse twine bound the dog’s muzzle shut. Even from yards away, Genevieve saw dried blood marking his hide. Pity welled in her throat.

“Just what have we here?”

Rough hands seized her from behind and hauled her to her feet. Greengrass shook her like Sirius would shake a rabbit. She struggled to aim her pistol, but he plucked it from her with a painful wrench to her wrist.

Self-disgust held her mute. She was so cursed stupid. She should have guessed Lord Neville’s henchman would be on guard.

“Genevieve!” Through her horror, she heard the despairing anger in Richard’s voice. Why, oh, why had she come? He’d warned her to stay away.

Lord Neville regarded her with a complete lack of surprise as Greengrass dragged her kicking and fighting into the clearing.

“Ah, I thought you might join us,” Lord Neville said archly.

“Be still, you little bitch.” Greengrass flung her down. She cried out as she crashed into the grass. Just beyond reach, she saw Richard’s guns on the ground.

Richard helped her up. “Are you all right?”