The Artist and the Rake (The Merry Misfits of Bath 4)

“No doubt. I’m just grateful that I had a reason to stop here tonight. I think for safety sake I should escort you home each evening you are working. I don’t like that she knows where you work and can easily discover the hours you are here.”

He followed Lizbeth as she walked to the back of the store and pushed aside a curtain that hung in a doorway. He followed her into a small area that was obviously a storeroom.

“Do you think she might have someone try to kidnap me again?” She reached for her cloak on a clothes tree and he helped her into it.

“There is that possibility now that she knows you are no longer in London. I imagine the people she works with are not happy. My hope is that she is aware that the police have been notified of your abduction and are watching her. In any event, I certainly don’t trust the woman. In fact, I believe you should give up this job.” He knew as soon as the words came out of his mouth that it was a mistake. Even before she scowled at him.

“No. I need the money to support myself and if I am ever going to stop accepting your sister and Lord Berkshire’s generosity, I need the funds.”

Since he had not yet made up his mind completely, this was probably not the time to tell her he was considering marriage. With her. To honor her, protect her, and provide for her, so she never need trouble herself again about being alone in the world and wondering where her next meal was coming from.

Were he ever to select a wife, it would be Lizbeth, there was no question about that. Although not completely convinced that marriage was for him, in all honesty the idea grew more appealing each day.

He could easily envision the two of them living a wonderful life, him working in his father’s business and doing his MP work, and Lizbeth taking care of their home and raising their children. There would be passion and humor and possibly even love between them.

Yes, it could very well be the perfect life. But she was far from ready to accept intimacy with a husband. He had a lot of work to do and pushing her would be a mistake. She had to do this at her own pace. Moving too fast could make him lose her forever.

Something he did not want to contemplate.

“I can assure you that your presence in Berkshire’s home is no burden to them,” he answered. “I do wish you would not concern yourself with that.”

Lizbeth extinguished the oil lamps around the room and taking a final look about the place, led him to the front door that she locked with a key hanging from a chain around her neck. She pulled on her gloves and shook his head. “I might not be a burden in a financial way, but I don’t belong in their house. Soon the baby will arrive, and things will get crowded.”

Marcus burst out laughing. She was truly so adorable. “Lizbeth, there are seven bedchambers in that house, along with the master suite for Berkshire and Addie.”

She sniffed. “That may be so, but I still feel better earning my own money.”

There didn’t seem to be any purpose in continuing the conversation. Until he felt she was ready to hear him suggest they marry, wherein he would provide everything she needed and wanted, it was time to let the subject go. But ‘twas certainly something to keep tucked in the back of his mind. He cleared his throat, a slight smile at what he was about to say. “Speaking of earning money, I want to show you something in the morning.”

She perked up. “What?”

Marcus shook his head at her curiosity. But she would need to wait. It would be far better for her to see than hear what he’d discovered earlier in the day. “Ah. I will not tell you, but plan on an excursion first thing in the morning.”

“Sounds mysterious.”

“Just so.” He winked and led her to Berkshire’s carriage which stood at the edge of the pavement in front of the store. The driver hopped down and opened the door. Marcus helped Lizbeth in, and then settled across from her. A tap on the ceiling and the carriage began to roll into the heavy early evening traffic.

“I cannot tell you how happy I was to s

ee you enter the store.” Lizbeth hugged herself and shivered.

“Are you cold?”

“A bit. Yes.” Her teeth had begun to chatter. He reached over and pulled her to his side of the carriage. He fumbled under the seat and withdrew a blanket that he draped around her. He then wrapped his arm around her shoulder, bringing her snug against him. “Are you warmer now?”

“Yes. Thank you.” She looked up at him. “Why do you suppose Mrs. O’Leary came to the store?”

“Obviously to let you know she was aware that you—or someone on your behalf—broke into her house.” He paused, suddenly tense. “Did she threaten you in any way?”

Lizbeth shook her head. “No. But I don’t think she was through with what she wanted to say when you arrived. Maybe she did plan to threaten me.” Lizbeth hesitated for a minute. “I guess the police didn’t do anything to her, since she’s still walking about, free as a bird?”

“In defense of the police,” he held up his hand when she opened her mouth to protest, “we didn’t give them much to go by. Remember, they must build a case for them to arrest anyone. And then it must be a solid case to be sure it will hold up in court. Mrs. O’Leary is just a link in the chain, of God knows how many people, involved in this. I’m quite sure the Bath police are working with the London bobbies and want to get the entire operation closed down and all the members of the crime ring behind bars.”

Lizbeth slumped in the seat. “Do you think they even questioned her?”

He shrugged. “Probably. But I think with Nick’s connections we have a good chance of uncovering who is working with her and giving that information to the police. Let them take care of bringing the group down.”

“Isn’t that something they should be doing? Isn’t it their job?”