Capturing the Devil (Stalking Jack the Ripper #4)(13)
A sly grin slid across Thomas’s features as he motioned me into his chambers. “You realize the irony of you asking that whilst you are, in fact, sneaking about the corridor at this hour as well, don’t you?” At my annoyed sigh, he held up a plate stacked with treats and eased the door shut with his foot.
“The cook made cinnamon buns slathered in melted butter and sugar. Apparently they’re for the morning, but I couldn’t help myself.” At my incredulous look, he added rather indignantly, “You try turning down the scent of cinnamon and sugar and my ultimate love: butter.”
I snatched a piece of the dessert bun off his plate and groaned in sheer bliss as it melted on my tongue. The well-balanced flavors and sweetness were enough to make me forget why I’d initially marched down here at this hour.
Thomas set the plate on a dresser and eyed me with the same sort of hunger and devotion he’d gazed at the pastries with.
Without taking his attention from me, he reached over and wiped a bit of icing from the corner of my lip; then his mouth was on mine. It was warm and sweet. And wholly unexpected. The pastries had been good, but this was much better. He slowly backed us into the dresser so I could sit against it, taking my weight from my leg. While we kissed, he gently cradled my face between his hands as if I was the most precious thing in his world.
Somehow, both his consideration and our new position awakened something untamable in me. I longed for more. I pushed off from the furniture and leaned him against the bed, enjoying the flash of surprise as I deepened our kiss.
Thomas recovered quickly, opening his mouth to taste me, his hands running along my spine. After a moment or two, neither one of us seemed satisfied with
the distance remaining between us. His hands drifted down to my hips, gripping them in a way that was both sweet and possessive. I slipped mine under his jacket and went for the cravat at his throat, before he leashed himself.
“Wait,” he said, breathless.
I drew back, startled. “I—Is this too much?”
Thomas hooked an arm around me and tugged me near, dropping kisses from my lips to my heart and back again. Like his demeanor in the laboratory, his attention to detail was slow and deliberate. He listened to each thrum of my heart, each inhalation of breath, and used his powers of deduction for my pleasure. When he finally managed to pull away again, his breathing was as heavy as his lids. “No, Wadsworth. It’s not too much at all. It’s just—”
“It’s your virtue, isn’t it?” I teased. “You want to wait until we’re properly married.”
“God, no.” He snorted. “I’ve wanted to ravish you for an indecently long while. If I was a more selfish creature, I’d take you right this moment if you’d have me.” My attention moved from his mouth to his bed, considering.
“However”—he sat down on the mattress and patted the spot next to him—“you might not wish to take things any further tonight. I—”
My earlier worries came rushing back and I interrupted him before I lost my nerve. “Have you courted someone else?”
“I—” He studied me in that swift deductive way of his. I expected to see mirth; instead he leaned over and kissed me chastely. “I have never officially courted or asked permission to court anyone. Only you.”
I breathed out, though relief was short-lived. One little distinction caught my attention. He and I weren’t officially courting, either. At least not until my father agreed to it. Thomas ran a hand over his face and I finally noticed the worry he’d been hiding.
“There’s something you ought to read,” he said. “I found this earlier and have been debating the best time to show you.”
Something akin to hysteria writhed in my gut. He must have received an anonymous letter, too. My palms were suddenly damp and my mouth bone-dry.
Someone was targeting us for reasons I dared not consider. “What is it?”
“It’s—I think it’s best to see for yourself.” He flipped through a journal and removed an envelope, eyes downcast as he handed it to me. For a moment, it seemed as if the entire universe had drawn a breath, waiting for my response.
My panic only increased when I removed the letter and was struck immobile at the handwriting.
It couldn’t be.
I blinked, certain I must be hallucinating. It was not written in the same hand as the letter I’d received. This one was much more familiar. I’d know it anywhere.
“What is this?” I asked, my voice betraying my fear. Thomas shook his head and remained silent. I steeled myself. His demeanor indicated it would be worse after I read it.
Blood rushed in my ears as I began reading. I now understood precisely why Thomas had held back from our clandestine moment. My limbs felt weak and I couldn’t decide if I wished to scream or cry or do some mad combination of the two. I fought the upheaval of emotion swirling in me, hoping I wouldn’t be sick this very second. Like a golden sun rising on the horizon, a new nightmare was dawning bright.
My beloved brother had one more secret he’d been keeping.
And it changed everything I thought I knew.
Dearest Sister,
If you are reading this letter, it means I’ve either been arrested or have already met with justice. What a pity. I suspect the queen and Parliament have been waiting to rip me apart for the trouble I caused. I imagine it’s been a hard time for you, but I ask that you remain strong of will and mind. Despite whatever circumstances have led us to this point, I hope this note finds you well, though perhaps you’ll feel a bit sick after you’ve finished it. It is one more regret to add to the list, I’m afraid.