Page 20 of Submitting to the Widow

“Oh, the Baroness?” The man’s grim look of disdain changed to a leer. “Is that what we’re calling her now that she’s out here under the candlelight and not back in that dark passageway riding your cock?”

“Where…is…she?” Stephen tensed his jaw, hovering at the edge of murderous intent.

“She’s safe, for now.” The man leaned close, his breath fetid with the smell of onions and garlic. “She won’t stay that way, though, if ye don’t call off yer snooping dogs. Let it be. Go back to yer fancy London office and mind yer own business.” With that, the disgusting man turned and disappeared into the crush of the tea room mob.

Stephen took another deep breath and did a full turn, taking in all of the jostling crowd. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jane struggling her way back to him from a far corner. Forcing himself to edge slowly to where she stood, her eyes wide with fear, was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. He wanted to race across the room, shoving revelers out of his way, to claim and protect what was his, but he had to maintain an outward look of calm and decorum for the sake of their reputations.

When he finally reached her side, she was shaking. He took off his cape and wrapped her safely inside before moving both of them steadily toward the entrance hall and the safety of her carriage waiting outside. His pocket watch showed half past nine. They were running late for their pre-assigned carriage time for collecting them outside the Assembly Rooms.

When they finally regained the outer street and James was waiting at the head of the line of carriages, Stephen let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He realized with a start that their re-creation of an adventure from his shallow college days journal was nothing like what he’d felt in that long-ago time. This time was different. He was different.

Once they were safely inside the carriage, Stephen refused to contemplate what might have happened to the vulnerable, sensual creature now curled in his lap, still shivering with fear and fatigue. He’d covered her with a blanket her coachman had produced, and now all he could do was hold Jane, gently stroke his hands down her long curls, kiss her forehead, and promise over and over he’d never allow anyone to terrorize her ever again. Even as the vow slipped from his lips, he knew what a declaration like that meant. And he didn’t care.

Damn Leo for losing their journals, and double-damn Captain Eleanor Goodrum for demanding the investigation that now had endangered Jane’s life.

* * *

Jane was not a coward,but the events of the last few hours had frozen her to her core. For the first time in her life, she wanted to weep on a man’s shoulder. She wasn’t afraid to show Stephen she was still afraid and more than grateful he’d managed to wrest her away from the horrible man.

The monster who’d snatched her from the very ballroom floor right under Stephen’s eyes had terrified her in a way she’d never before experienced. She’d at first feared she’d be humiliated and then killed by the crude goat man who’d dragged her off to a dark corner where he’d pushed her down onto a chair and threatened her with a knife. He’d held it behind her back so that none of the other patrons could see what he was doing.

Jane had known instinctively, even though they’d done nothing wrong, the gossip resulting from such a public turn up, if she’d fought off the man, would have destroyed Stephen’s career.

Her heartbeat was still ragged from the terror she’d felt, and she was as weak as her kitten, Amelie. She wished she could hold the purring bit of fluff at that moment.

Instead, she leaned back into Stephen’s strong arms, and her shaking eased a bit. He crooned low in her ear, using a nonsensical melody: “Hey, diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle. The cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such craft, and the dish ran away with the spoon.”

She turned slowly to look up into his face. “Did your mother sing that to you when you were little?”

“Yes, she did. And the words were so nonsensical, that by the time she’d finished, I couldn’t remember what I was so upset about when she began.” He squeezed her shoulder and kissed the palm of one of her hands.

“I’m so sorry, Stephen, that I put you in such an exposed position. Your reputation could have been smashed into a thousand pieces.”

“Shhh,” he said, and pulled her back against her chest while he sang to her - more nonsensical nursery songs which finally made her laugh.

* * *

Once Stephen had returnedJane to her townhouse on the Crescent, Raj immediately put her to bed with a cup of hot lemon, honey, and whisky, plus a heated brick at her feet.

After he confirmed for himself Jane was safe and saw her eyes were getting heavy, he instructed one of her footmen to guard her chamber door. He gathered James, Molly, Raj, and Murray into the library to make a plan for protecting her from whoever was behind the attack at the ballroom. After his earlier conversation that week with Henry, he had a pretty good idea which of the four men on the Capt. Goodrum’s list might have ordered the attack on Jane.

He faced the people who had protected and loved Jane for years, even when she was still married to the baron. “I have something to reveal to all of you which I hope you will keep confidential amongst yourselves.”

“I knew it,” Raj spat out. “You have a wife back in London.”

For a moment, Stephen stood perplexed, his mouth hanging open. “No…just no,” he nearly shouted after a short pause. “Why would you think such a thing?”

“None of you Englishmen can be trusted.”

Stephen simply shook his head and returned to his explanation. “The only way I could find out the identity of Baroness Trevellyn so that I could retrieve my stolen journal pages…”

“They’re not stolen,” Raj interrupted rudely again.

Stephen ignored her. “The only person who could direct me to Baroness Trevellyn is the woman from whom she borrowed my journal pages, a very influential club owner in London.” He paused, trying to get his bearings and realizing too late how bizarre a tale this would seem to most of the people in the room. “This woman apparently has a score to settle with a number of men in Combe Down, and she forced me to investigate them on her behalf in exchange for information on Baroness Trevellyn’s whereabouts.”

James was the first to speak. “Molly and me…we grew up in Combe Down. Whatever you want to know about anyone from there we can help you with. You don’t need to go around upsetting people and getting the baroness snatched off a dance floor.”

Stephen gave James an assessing look and came to a fast conclusion to trust the man. He was obviously loyal to Jane, and actually had the right idea about how to proceed with investigating the men on the list. “All right then, but whoever we’re dealing with, they’ve already shown how desperate they are.” He took a sip of the brandy Raj had given him and leaned toward Jane’s coachman. “Whatever we do, we cannot endanger Jane or Molly or Raj. Although I pity the ruffian who dares take on Raj.”