As the hours progressed, Gregory remained still, toying with the ribbons that hung from her hair, cooing when she stirred in her sleeping.
“You’re always so warm.”
He grunted and held her closer, lips finding her brow. “Unbearably so?”
Glancing toward the small windows, Arabella found it full dark outside—far past the time she should have returned home. Sitting up with a start, she demanded, “What is the hour? Gregory, you should not have allowed this! Your servants will talk.”
“I am certain old Hannah will.” He pressed a quick kiss to her frowning lips before she could turn away.
Horrified, she stared into unapologetic eyes. “Why would you do this?”
“Calm yourself, Arabella.” He cocked his head toward the tea serving. The fact it lingered signified that no one had dared to encroach on their solitude.
“That is not funny!” she snarled, heart racing. “You cannot be trusted. It is infuriating, Gregory. I will not call here again.”
His arms already about her waist, he pressed her back to his chest. “There is no need to fret.” He captured the Imp’s lips in the softest of kisses, drawing from her an exasperated sigh. Pulling back, midnight eyes glowed with satisfaction. A thumb passed over her swollen mouth, Mr. Harrow clicking his tongue. “Was I not sweet?” He spoke the word with such pleasure, breathing it into her mouth, kissing her again before she could speak. “Did I not comfort you? Do I not dote on you?”
The way in which he could make her senses reel was drug-like.
Brushing his nose across her cheek, the tip of his tongue found the shell of her ear, tracing its shape and making her shiver. He took his mouth away, turned her to face him and purred, “Admit you need my help. What are the names of the men you fear?”
Meeting his eyes, grateful for the respite from his lips, she countered, “I am not fool enough to be in debt to you.”
“But you would do anything to protect the ones you love?” With a low growl of victory, a thing that seemed to excite him, he purred against her mouth. “I will ruin Mr. Dalton and destroy the men you fear. And when it is done, you will be my bride in payment.”
The heat went out of her, drained down to the floor like slithering ooze. Arabella shook her head, aghast.
Gregory smiled an evil grin, his lips stretching further at the small noise she made in her attempt to say no. “I am going to try to be virtuous now and let you leave... which was not my original intention. Go, or I will change my mind and force you to marry me before you get what you want. I have carried the special license in my pocket for weeks.” He set her free, watching her scurry off his lap, yet still holding her wrist tightly, almost bruising as he leveled her with a glare. “One more thing, Arabella. There will be no more talk of suicide... for if you kill yourself, my love, I will bring down the worst sort of hell on your collection of derelicts. They will suffer all their years in toil and pain. I will not live without you.”
She was suddenly more afraid of him than she had ever been of anything she’d faced under Benjamin Iliffe’s care. “Gregory, please.”
The smile faded, and if the beast was capable of gloom, that was the look he gave her before he spoke. “Go...”
His grip abated, Gregory’s fingertips brushing her hand as she pulled away and fled.
Chapter 15
P ayne found her sequestered within Crescent Barrows’ study again... just as she had been for more than a week. His lady had taken to standing at the window, her eyes on the moors as if anticipating an invading army’s attack. Day in and day out, she kept to her perch, unmoved.
“Why not ride out on Mamioro and explore? It is a fine day.”
Turning her chin from the misty view, the baroness offered him a soft smile. “I am still unwell. It is best if I stay indoors.”
She had taken pains to dress in one of her new London gowns, to have Magdala style her hair. Payne had noticed. “You are not unwell. Are you expecting company?”
“The rent is due. Mr. Harrow prefers to claim it in person. When he arrives, I will attend him.”
Payne had suspected as much, already fearing the answer. “You are eager to see the gentleman?”
Arabella looked unsure, eyes leaving his face to turn back to the view. “I need to speak with him, but he has not called. He has not written. No smoke marks the sky from the direction of his house.”
“But you dislike him, Arabella.”
He watched her hesitate before she turned to face him full on. He saw her sadness and her worry. Mostly, Payne saw her flickering spark of hope. “I don’t dislike him. Perhaps I should, but I do not.”
Unnerved, Payne went straight to her. “He is an opportunist, Arabella. It is for that reason Mr. Griggs chose him as landlord. Remember?”
“He is.” She licked her lip, took a deep breath, affirming. “But... he says he will help us.”