Page 9 of The Courtesan’s Protector (About An Earl #4)

CHAPTER 8

R ipley had never returned to his own room the previous night. Staying in Jane’s bed, sharing food with her by the fire as she wore nothing but his shirt, waking up with her in his arms…it was like every dream come true.

They hadn’t spoken of it, though. Of what their night together meant. While they rode back to London, she’d asked him to read more from his novel, which didn’t allow for questions. Perhaps for the best, as he wasn’t certain he’d like the answers. If she pushed him away, he would have to honor that.

Now they pulled up before her shop and sat staring at each other for a moment. He’d asked the driver not to open the door, so they had as long as he’d like to stay in the bubble of what they’d shared.

She reached across the carriage and took his hand. Certainly not the first time she’d done so, but the first time this day and the action carried more weight now that they’d touched in far more intimate ways.

“I know you’ve firmly shut the door on this conversation,” she began. “But I must say it one more time: I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness.”

“You can take advantage any time,” he replied. He’d meant to sound teasing, but it wasn’t. She heard it too, for she bent her head with a little sigh.

“Should we do this?” she asked.

“Find your sister?”

“No.” She lifted her gaze to his. “We’ve stayed away for so long, Ripley. We’ve fought this pull between us.”

He swallowed. This was the conversation he’d waited for and yet he felt no joy with it. Not when she appeared so concerned. “If you don’t want to?—”

“No, I didn’t say that,” she interrupted.

He smiled a little at how swiftly she said it. All that love for her rose up in him, stronger now because they’d acted on the attraction. Because he knew what it felt to join with her in the most intimate way. He would take the pain that would come for this. Pain was sometimes worth the moment before.

“I’m here, Jane,” he said. “I’ll be here however you need me. When it comes to what happened between us last night, if you want to leave it as a night of passion, one that I’ll never forget, I won’t push. If you want to crawl into my bed every night we’re searching for your sister and let me ease your troubles for a few hours, I’m happy to do that, as well. More than happy.”

She worried her lip and it made him want to nip it like he had so many times the night before. He lived for the way that made her hiss in her breath with pleasure.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he assured her, and then he opened the carriage door and stepped out to help her down. When her feet were firmly back on the ground, he said, “I’ll let you know how the arrangements are going as I progress during the day.”

“Yes, thank you. Please keep a list of your expenses. At least let me try to cover them.”

He ignored that request because he had no intention of honoring it. Instead he asked, “Have you thought about going to Esme about this? I’m sure she and Delacourt could be of help.”

Her lips pinched and he could see her feelings. Her fears were far too plain on her face. “I…no. Not yet at any rate. If I cannot do this on my own, I’ll trade on our friendship. But for now, let me keep them out of it.”

“Of course,” he said. “Whatever you think is best, Jane.”

“I’ll be ready in the morning,” she said.

For a moment he thought she might kiss him right here on the walkway in front of her store. She leaned a little toward him, her lips upturned. But then she caught herself and turned away, dashing to the door where she slipped inside and left him alone.

“Take me back to the club, please,” he told the driver before he got back into the vehicle and settled in. As they rumbled across the city, he stared across at where she’d been sitting. He could still smell her in the air. He could almost still feel her warmth.

But amidst all that, past all the memories of her body flexing around his, he could also perfectly picture her terror. She might need his body in order to soothe her worries, but she also needed him to be on his guard, be at his best so that they might find her sister.

If they couldn’t, he already knew it would be devastating to her. Destructive. He didn’t want to watch her go through that pain, one he couldn’t help with. He knew that feeling far too well.

They rolled to a stop before the club and he thanked the driver as he got out. He strode through the doors to find the familiar sounds of men sparring echoing in the room around him. As he had expected, all was well after Brentwood’s short reign as leader of the club. A few of the men training waved to him as he came in, but most simply continued their punches and blocks.

He searched for Brentwood and found him in the back of the hall, standing with the Earl of Kirkwood. The earl was a reasonably good fighter, despite his rank. He was also friends with Delacourt and Ramsbury, so Ripley would have to be careful with what was said. At this point Jane didn’t want the help of her powerful friends and he wasn’t going to push it.

“Ah, Ripley,” Kirkwood said with a wide smile and a hand extended to shake. “We missed you this morning at the usual practice.”

From some men, Ripley might have bristled, but he could tell the statement was meant truthfully, not as some barely veiled dig. “I apologize for my absence. I had some personal business to attend to. I fear I must steal Brentwood away, assuming you two are finished with your conversation.”

Kirkwood inclined his head. “We are. Best of luck with whatever is happening. Good day, gentlemen.”

As the earl stepped away, Ripley motioned Brentwood back to his office and shut the door.

“And so you are back,” Brentwood said, his tone noncommittal.

“I assume all went well in my absence.”

Brentwood nodded. “Just the usual. Toffs doing their practice, trying to show off for one another on the whole. Some of the professionals getting ready for arranged fights. There’s a new one you’ll probably want to look at, he has potential. Should I arrange a meeting?”

“Yes,” Ripley said. He always tried to see the ones he thought he could help. Just like in the lightskirt trade, there were too many bad actors in the fighting game. At least if Ripley assisted the young ones, he knew they wouldn’t be taken advantage of. “But not this week. I won’t be here.”

Brentwood held his stare a moment and then nodded. “I see. More business with Miss Kendall, I assume.”

Ripley shifted before he meant to do so and realized he’d just moved into a fighting stance. Probably because he felt protective of Jane and he knew now what she thought Brentwood’s feelings were about her. “Yes.” He folded his arms. “She believes you don’t like her.”

Brentwood let out a long sigh. “Of course I like her. She’s impossible not to like. I admire her strength and her loyalty to Esme.”

“All that is true,” Ripley said. “And yet I sense a but.”

“But…” The hesitation that came before the next words felt like an eternity. “But you love her, mate.”

Ripley stepped back and deposited himself on the edge of his worn desk. He stared at Brentwood, a man he’d known since his fighting days. He was the closest person he had to a best friend, but they rarely spoke of personal matters. It wasn’t in either of their natures. And Ripley had spent a lifetime trying to cover up his emotions. He was very good at it.

Except now it seemed he hadn’t been.

“Have I stunned the Dragon into silence?” Brentwood asked softly. “Or are you just considering where to punch me?”

“The Dragon was known for his strong silence,” Ripley said with a flinch. “I’m not him anymore.”

“I was sparring with Walter Mandy earlier. He still can’t keep that left up. He’s going to get his bell rung if he fights anyone with a brain.”

Ripley wrinkled his brow in confusion. Was Brentwood changing the subject to be kind? “I’ll remind him when I’m in the ring with him next.”

“I’m sure you will.” Brentwood folded his arms. “What do you say when a fighter has a persistent weakness?”

“It’s dangerous,” Ripley said. “You need to train it out because it’s a tell that becomes too easy to read for any opponent. A way past the guard that could end you.”

“She’s your weakness, mate. Far larger than any you had when you swung your fists for a living.”

Pushing off the desk, Ripley turned away to stare at the disorganized papers stacked there. He didn’t see them, he just didn’t want to be so exposed while he pondered that statement. “Perhaps she is,” he admitted. “Are you saying I need to train her out?”

“Not necessarily. Not if you don’t feel it’s dangerous.”

Ripley choked out a laugh. Of course it was dangerous to love Jane. It was hopeless, most likely. He’d always known that with every wall she erected to keep them from being close. Making love to her hadn’t changed that, just made it all the more painful.

“But you do need to know the weakness exists so that you can protect yourself.”

Ripley faced him and forced a tight smile. “You needn’t worry about me,” he said, though he wasn’t certain that was true. “Just keep the club going.”

“I will.”

“And if you think this new one you talked about is worthy, offer him a place with our others. I trust you.”

Brentwood’s brows lifted at the suggestion Ripley had never made before. It meant something and they both knew it. “I will.”

Ripley gathered some things. “I’ll update you on my timeline and if I need any assistance. Your carriage is back, thank you again for the loan. I’ll let one for the trip, as I don’t know how long we’ll be gone and I don’t want to deprive you. I need to go arrange that and some other things now.”

He clapped Brentwood on the shoulder and then headed for the door.

“Be careful,” his friend said as he reached it.

Ripley gripped the jamb and turned back with a wide smile. “I never am.”

Then he stepped out and back through the club toward the unknown. But Brentwood’s words rang in his mind. He feared they would for a long time to come.