Page 7 of Miss Thornfield’s Daring Bargain (The Troublemakers Trilogy #1)

S hit. That was Basil’s first thought when he awoke the next morning. The sun had yet to fully rise, the bed was warm and comfortable, and he knew that he had slept well even though he’d gone against his habit of sleeping nude. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep there. He’d had every intention of leaving once Ada was settled. But between her even breaths and the light weight of her hand in his, he’d drifted off. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was his earlier premonition that Ada would be able to make him do things he knew were a bad idea was proving to be worryingly accurate. He’d allowed the sight of Ada with loose silken hair, with tear-stained cheeks, and in a demure nightgown to distract him from what he’d realized on the journey to Scotland.

She never stayed put in her sleep.

To the contrary, she gravitated to the nearest warm body. He’d woken up to her thigh sliding across his and her small, slender hand furrowing under the hem of his shirt. His arm had found itself around her narrow shoulders, cradling her body as she rested against him, her head on his chest.

At first, he’d reveled in waking up to the feel of a woman in his arms, supple and deliciously warm with sleep. His hands had wandered around, caressing the long line of a slender back and arms, the rounded slope of a firm backside. Perfect. The woman in his bed was so welcoming and deliciously soft against him, and her scent was everywhere. It was precisely that scent which had jolted him into awareness. There was only one woman he knew who smelled like violets, and his hand had no business on her ass.

Even more problematic was the cock-stand making itself more apparent despite the realization that the woman in his arms was his best friend’s sister. If anything, that insight was making things worse for him, because she wasn’t the skinny twelve-year-old with bright eyes and a sly smile. She was a beautiful twenty-year-old siren. A fact that was growing ever more difficult to ignore. Ada stretched against him with a husky sigh, her thigh riding up even higher to brush against his swollen sex, her nose pressing against the skin of his neck.

Fucking hell , it was torture. He needed to get out of that bed.

He froze and closed his eyes tightly. Fuck it, he couldn’t wait for her to wake up on her own. Slowly he inched his body away from hers, hoping to slide her head onto the pillow. She murmured as her hand slid over his chest and ribs. In a desperate bid for sanity, he grabbed her hand, arresting its agonizing descent. He heard a sharp intake of breath and shifted his head to glance down at her mussed hair.

“Are you awake then?” he asked in as neutral a tone as he could manage. Slowly, as if to avoid his detection, she pulled away incrementally, first her hand, then her leg, then her head, and the rest of her body.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured once she had retreated to her side of the bed.

“It’s alright.” More than alright really. He wasn’t only to linger in bed or otherwise but he had no objections to being fondled by her in the morning. Even if the inclination bordered on masochistic.

“I didn’t realize—”

“It’s fine, Ada. It’s my own fault, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Still, I didn’t intend to molest you.”

She sat upright and pulled the blankets up to cover her. He wasn’t sure what maidenly modesty she was still trying to protect, but he couldn’t help but find it adorable. Especially with the bright flush spilling over her cheeks and the bashful way she refused to meet his eyes. She was such a confounding mix of timidity and assertiveness. A girl who would marry a man she knew by reputation alone in order to protect her family, but couldn’t sleep alone. A woman who couldn’t help reassuring him, when he was only beside her to fend off shadows in an unfamiliar room. A champion and a damsel all at once. He didn’t know what to do with her, but the effect on him was inconvenient at best.

Her behavior the night before had been confusing, to say the least. Her distress over her brother was one thing, but the ease with which she allowed him to hold her was something he hadn’t been prepared for. Her familiarity with him had his hands lingering on her shoulders, in her hair, at her waist when he should have let go. That was all before the fiasco this morning.

He knew she trusted him implicitly. She would never have asked him to share a bed with her otherwise. What he couldn’t gauge was whether she saw him as a man or more as a brother. Were the moments he imagined a tension between them due to embarrassment or because she was as attracted to him as he was to her? It was just as likely that she was desperate enough to take on a little risk for a good night’s sleep. He’d wondered if she was playing a game with him until he’d heard the broken note in her voice when she’d all but begged him to stay with her in the room.

He liked how she demanded comfort and affection and gave it in equal measure. He liked holding her far too much. Christ help him, he actually liked giving in to her. Was he turning into some kind of mentally deficient lecher? He had been perfectly content with Felicity Ashwood until he fell asleep holding Ada’s soft slender hand in his. Was that correct or had it begun earlier? Had it begun the moment he’d put that ring on her finger? Why had he used that ring? He could have gotten a cheap one at the smithy. He hadn’t even thought about it at the time, he had simply slid it on because it felt right.

A knock sounded on the door, and he slid from the bed facing the wall, wondering how long he’d have to wait before he could face her without having to answer embarrassing questions.

“Didn’t you bring anything to sleep in?” she asked suddenly. He glanced at her, and she lowered her eyes again. He looked down at his rumpled trousers and shirt. There was no way to explain to her that he didn’t sleep clothed in general, even when traveling.

“I didn’t think I’d need them,” he replied.

“But what will you travel back in?” she asked her hands folded in her lap, as demure as a nun. He’d almost believe it too if only he couldn’t still remember what her hands felt like on his body.

He tilted his head. What did she think he meant to do? “Are you worried I’ll embarrass you?”

“No!” she exclaimed. She looked up at him, her outrage causing her to forget her embarrassment for a moment. Then her eyes fell to the open neck of his shirt, and she lowered her gaze to the bed linens.

“I have a change of clothes, Ada,” he said, taking pity on her. The poor thing was probably waiting for the floor to devour her.

“Oh, alright then.”

He needed to return to his side of the room and get dressed, but he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay in this room with Ada, half dressed and avoid London as long as he could.

The knock sounded again, and he responded instinctively. “Yes?”

There was an audible gasp from the other side of the door, and Ada’s eyes widened comically as she shook her head.

Fuck … If the carriage ride back wasn’t so damned long, he would have found this wildly amusing. He could imagine the shocked faces of Ada’s friends on the other side of the door. They were so impressive that it was easy to forget how sheltered they actually were.

“Who is it?” Ada called.

“It’s us,” Regina replied, “Are you still abed?”

That was his cue to get moving. He’d almost forgotten that he wasn’t actually on his honeymoon. This was the first stage of a rescue mission, not some romantic elopement. Basil trotted around the bed and through the adjoining door to the sitting room as Ada moved to open the door to her friends. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, glancing down at the erection that still hadn’t calmed all the way down. The journey back was certainly going to be interesting.

*

London, Twelve hours later

He wasn’t disappointed. The carriage ride to Cheshire had been easy enough, as he’d simply ridden with the footman, but the train ride had bordered on farcical. Ada still refused to meet his eyes, and he could barely stand to have her touch him at all. He knew too much to pretend he didn’t see her as a woman. He knew what she looked like in bed, from the silken hair flowing down to her waist to the long lines and unexpected curves of her slender body so delicately framed in the firelight through her cotton nightgown. There were reasons men were never meant to have that image until after a woman was his wife. How on earth would he be able to stay in control of himself now?

Sharing a transport with her two best friends helped. From the carriage to the train the three girls kept exchanging meaningful glances between each other and then at him. Elodia was clearly amused by the entire situation, but the smugness was a little concerning. Regina seemed to vacillate between outrage and curiosity but who or what she was outraged about was a mystery to him. It was their clever plan to leave a room for him and Ada.

Somehow, they made him feel embarrassed. Which was utterly ridiculous because he had nothing to be embarrassed about. It was hardly shocking for a man to be in his wife’s chambers after the wedding night. Even if the marriage was unconsummated and they weren’t, strictly speaking, planning on staying married. A decision he was beginning to regret. Perhaps that was the issue. He was more embarrassed that it had taken one day and night alone with his best friend’s sister for him to realize that everything he’d planned for his life was… unsatisfactory.

How had he missed that he wanted more from his wife than convenience? How could he have known that a demanding, affectionate thug of a woman who bullied him into changing tack was something he had needed all along? He’d had her stubborn sunshine in his life and now the idea of returning to that manicured silence felt like death.

He knew what her body felt like pressed against him, and her touch against his bare skin. How was he meant to go back to a time when he didn’t know the shape of her body without her stays? How was he supposed to keep his mind from wondering whenever he smelled violets? Needless to say, when the train arrived in London, he was conflicted. He needed space to sort out his thoughts and determine a new course of action. Under the guise of finding a porter, he slipped out of the room and escaped to the platform. He took a deep breath and started his search for a free porter.

“Thompson.”

Basil turned to see his friend Leo watching him with amusement.

He sighed and shook his head. “Kingston.”

“I thought we planned to meet a few days ago.”

“We did.”

“My mother got a hastily scrawled note saying otherwise.”

“Yes, there were some extenuating circumstances.”

Leo’s hazel-colored eyes flicked up over Basil’s head and his eyes brows shot up. “So I see.”

Basil turned around to see Ada emerging from the train. Her deep dark eyes met his, and somehow the image of her in her apricot-colored travel dress surrounded by smoke had him catching his breath. He didn’t even realize he had moved until her hand was in his, helping her down the steps. She smiled softly at him, and his throat went bone dry.

“Ah,” Leo murmured.

Basil turned to see Leo extending a hand to Regina who took it with marked interest. An interest that Leo seemed to share as he helped her down the stairs. Even after she’d reached the platform, their eyes had remained fixed on each other’s. He could hardly fault the poor girl. Leo had always been a favorite with the fairer sex, from his chiseled features and deep, tawny complexion to his dimpled smile and his tall, broad frame. It was an embarrassment of riches really. Basil didn’t think he was a fright to look at but standing next to Leopold had him feeling like the plain cousin.

A deep purple glove caught his attention and he turned to help Elodia disembark before moving them further away from the locomotive.

“Any luck with that porter, Mr. Thompson?” Elodia asked, her glittering brown eyes flicking down to where his fingers still grasped Ada’s.

Who they hell did she imagine she was, his governess? “Not as yet, Miss Hawthorne,” he replied.

She pursed her lips in amusement and nodded.

“No worries about that,” Regina chimed in before daintily removing her glove and letting out a glass-shattering whistle that had the entire group wincing save for Leo. He seemed utterly fascinated with her. Basil would keep that small observation on hand for later, when Leo would no doubt rake him over the coals over this current turn of events. Within seconds another voice was heard.

“ Rajani Elizabeth Mason !” a deep female voice thundered.

Regina’s eyes went wide with fear, her shoulders hunching up to her ears, looking more like a cornered spaniel than the self-assured young woman he’d witnessed over the past few days. Slowly, she turned around to greet a furious South Asian woman in a stunning amber-colored gown and a gentleman with light brown hair and a medium build who was desperately trying not to smirk.

“Aai,” she began but any attempt at platitudes was met with a torrent of angry, indecipherable words. Everyone got a taste of it as Mrs. Mason’s furious eyes alighted on each of them in turn before she snatched her daughter’s hand from Leo’s arm, took hold of her arm, and dragged her away. The gentleman, who Basil assumed was her father, gave them all an affable look before tipping his hat.

“Good day to you, Miss Thornfield, Miss Hawthorne.”

The two girls dipped into a curtsey, their eyes downcast and expressions subdued. So they were capable of feeling shame. He wasn’t sure they knew the sensation based on their dealings with him.

Leo let out a low whistle and turned to Basil with raised eyebrows. “About those extenuating circumstances…”

“I need a drink and a blood oath of silence from you first,” Basil grumbled, refusing to meet his curious and no doubt amused eyes. The last thing he needed was a debriefing with Leo when there were witnesses.

“Maybe we should check on her in a few days,” Ada said.

“Or a few weeks,” Leo responded. “Miss Mason’s language was particularly spirited.”

“How do you know what she said?” Elodia asked.

“I served in India before I became an inspector, which reminds me, Thompson…” He turned to Basil, all levity gone from his face. “You and I need a talk.”

“Is it about my brother?” Ada asked.

Leo glanced at her. “It is.”

“Then you need ‘a talk’ with me, not him. He’s my family.”

“He’s family to both of you now from the look of things,” Leo commented, nodding at the ring on her hand, and Ada flushed again but stood her ground.

“All the more reason,” she said lifting her chin in defiance.

Leo glanced over at Elodia who was watching him expectantly. “I’m assuming you will demand a hearing as well.”

“That would be a safe assumption, yes,” she replied evenly before her eyes flicked over his shoulder. “Here, porter.” Her voice rang out and the pale man froze and glanced over to her. “Go fetch us a carriage.” He blinked in shock before nodding and scampering away.

She turned her attention back to Leo and opened her mouth to speak again but her eyes widened abruptly and her back straightened. Basil followed her gaze and saw a middle-aged man with a gold handled cane watching her with tightly folded arms and a steely gaze. Then the man strode forward with single-minded intent.

“Ellie,” Ada whispered, and he watched her clutch Elodia’s arm in alarm.

Who was he? Basil glanced at Leo who shook his head in response. Did he not recognize this man either? If anyone had told him there was a man who could turn Miss Hawthorne into a meek young woman, Basil wouldn’t have believed them. The change from the audacious and spirited young woman into this meek and nervous creature would have been amusing if Basil wasn’t concerned about Ada. It was clear from Ada’s reaction that she knew who he was too. What was less clear was the reason for their obvious fear. Basil instinctively slid his arm around Ada’s waist.

Elodia cleared her throat and yanked down on her jacket. “All will be well, Ada. He loves me too much to kill me.”

Basil fought back a smile as realization set in. So this was the Viscount Melbroke, Elodia’s formidable father. Clearly, he’d been alerted by Miss Mason’s parents when they had all stolen the carriage and disappeared overnight. The gentleman paused at their group, his blue eyes fixed on his daughter. He then glanced at Ada who swallowed audibly.

“Miss Thornfield,” he said, his tone icy cold.

“Thompson, actually,” Elodia murmured, and his eyes snapped back to her in an unmistakable warning before finding Basil’s.

“Thompson. As in Viscount Sterling?” he asked. The speed with which the connection was made had Basil’s hands sweating.

“Yes, my lord.”

“I thought you were courting Miss Ashwood?” he asked.

Basil couldn’t think of what to say to that. He’d courted her a bit but how much information had leaked out about their pending engagement? “I was.”

He nodded and looked at Ada again. “Well, I imagine you are about to have your own troubles with your father, Thompson.”

“Yes,” Basil murmured.

Melbroke looked at Leo who was watching him with raised eyebrows. “And you are?”

“Leopold Kingston, formerly of Scotland Yard,” he replied.

“Scotland Yard? I would have guessed military.”

“That as well,” Leo replied.

Melbroke nodded at him in acknowledgement before turning to Elodia again. “And you, dearest daughter.”

“How did you know I was here?” she asked meekly.

“Captain Mason and his wife. I admit I was concerned about locating you when I arrived, but then I heard the ear-piercing whistle of a highwayman, so I simply followed that.” The anger seemed to have faded to annoyance.

“I was coming straight home papa, I promise.”

“Straight home from Brighton does not include a stop off at Gretna Green last time I checked,” he replied, every word crisp with sarcasm.

“I can explain.”

“You always can,” he replied, a note of rueful amusement now coloring his ire. Elodia’s eyes dropped again, and Melbroke’s mouth twisted in irritation. “Come along, you. Good day gentlemen, Miss Thompson.” He gave Ada a pointed look and left with a firm grip on Elodia’s arm.

Leo turned back to Basil, clearly entertained. “And then there were three.”

“What have you found, Leo?”

“I know where they are keeping Richard. Some old acquaintances at Scotland Yard and I took turns stopping by Giltspur Compter and making some vague inquiries as to new inmates. The man at the gate didn’t like it. I believe he thought I was getting above myself.”

“How curious and unexpected,” Basil replied before they shared a grin.

“I’ve been tailing Trent the last couple days, and he has been looking for you, Mrs. Thompson. He is panicking.”

“Where’s my brother?” Ada asked.

“Based on Trent’s movements, I think he’s at the docks by the Thames. I saw them move someone night before last to a holding room there. He’s visited there three times so far. But that panic is going to cost them.”

“The docks aren’t nearly as secure as a debtor’s prison.”

“Indeed, and he has fewer people to watch Richard. If there was ever a time to move, it is now. There is a shift change in roughly…” he paused to check his pocket watch, “three hours. The gap in time is around fifteen minutes.”

“You mean to get him tonight?” Ada asked.

“Yes. The longer he is trapped there with Trent running out of options, the more likely he will begin taking out reprisals on Richard. The sooner we get him, the better.”

“Perhaps I can stay with Ellie,” Ada said turning to Basil. Something about the way she looked up at him with all that trust in her wide eyes had his heart clenching in his chest.

“No. Miss Hawthorne’s house is being watched and likely so is Miss Mason’s. You need to be somewhere Trent can’t connect you to.” He wasn’t sure how he was going to manage it, but he didn’t have any other options.

Leo looked at Basil askance, “You don’t mean?”

His mother would scold him raw, but she wouldn’t turn Ada away if Basil vouched for her. His father would pitch a fit, but he’d never counteract his mother in their home. “It’s the only place he’d never think to look.”

The porter Elodia had sent for ran up to them, looking around in obvious confusion. “Is it just you three, sir?”

“Two,” Leo replied. “I have arrangements to make. I’ll meet you there, Bas.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t go in until I’m there,” Leo instructed, laying a heavy hand on Basil’s shoulder.

Basil nodded before tightening his grip on Ada’s waist and pulling her along as they followed the porter to the carriage awaiting them.

“What are you talking about, where are you taking me?” Ada asked, glancing between Basil and Leo’s departing figure with a puzzled frown.

Basil heaved a sigh. “I’m taking you to my parents.”