Page 9 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

With a little cry she managed to regain her balance, just as Tom lunged forward to grab hold of her, but both their combined weight on one rotten wooden step was too much and there was an ominous crack.

They were only four steps from the ground and, preferring a twisted ankle to a flesh wound from the splintered wood, Tom jumped, grabbing on to Miss Ashworth’s arm and pulling her with him. They landed heavily, their bodies crashing into one another. Tom could see he had sent Miss Ashworth reeling so, trying to correct his mistake, he reached out again, ensuring they fell together, and he cushioned the landing.

As he made contact with the cold, wet cobbles, he felt the jarring impact travel through his spine, made worse when Miss Ashworth’s body landed squarely on top of his, pushing the air from his lungs.

For a moment neither of them moved, both too stunned to do anything but catch their breaths.

‘What did you do that for?’ Miss Ashworth asked after a few seconds. She was looking at him as though he were a maniac.

‘The wood was splintering! Get cut by a piece of filthy wood, and at best you could lose your leg, perhaps even your life. I chose not to risk it, for either of us.’

Miss Ashworth looked over at the collapsed bottom portion of the staircase, some of the indignation ebbing out of her expression.

‘Filthy perverts, it’s broad daylight,’ a voice shouted from the end of the alleyway leading into the courtyard. ‘Go somewhere private or at least wait until after dark.’

With horror Miss Ashworth looked down, only now realising the position they were in. Tom was lying on his back on the stone cobbles with Miss Ashworth straddling his hips. It wasn’t comfortable, and no one in their right mind would choose this filthy location for getting intimate, but he could see from a distance, and in the right light it might look as though they had been overcome by lust for one another.

Quickly Miss Ashworth scrambled to her feet, backing away to put as much distance between them as possible. Tom took a little longer to get up, his back protesting after the jolt it had taken as they’d fallen.

‘I’m going home,’ Miss Ashworth declared.

‘First sensible thing you’ve said all morning,’ Tom muttered.

Either she didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him as she stalked back through the alley to the wider streets. It didn’t take too long to find a carriage for hire to take them back to Mayfair. Miss Ashworth seemed to relax a little once the wheels were moving and they wound their way back towards the river and the more familiar parts of London.

They sat in silence for the journey. Normally Tom would have found a way to charm the serious young woman sitting across from him, but today he was too distracted. His mind was already back home, on the little boy with the dark hair and long eyelashes who was now completely reliant on Tom for everything with which a parent should be providing him.

‘Can you tell the driver to stop at the end of the street?’

‘Why?’

Miss Ashworth rolled her eyes and leaned out of the carriage window, shouting up to the driver. She looked satisfied as a carriage rolled to a stop and went to open the door.

‘Thank you for a diverting morning,’ Tom said dryly.

‘Let us hope our paths do not ever need to cross again.’

She hopped down and without a backward glance began to stride along the street. Tom could probably have stayed in the carriage—it was well past nine o’clock and the streets were busy. It was only a couple of minutes’ walk to Lady Mountjoy’s house and Miss Ashworth had bowed her head in the drizzle and was making fast progress. Still, he knew he wouldn’t feel easy if he didn’t see she got safely indoors, so he followed her out of the carriage, quickly paid the driver and walked after her.

He wasn’t all that surprised when Miss Ashworth eschewed the front door, instead slipping round the side of the house and into the garden, no doubt to enter the house via a back door, hopefully unnoticed.

‘Strange morning,’ he murmured, shaking his head. It had been one of the most bizarre mornings of his life.

He paused outside of the Mountjoy house, looking up at the windows, and then turned to leave.

‘Mr Stewart! Mr Stewart!’ a voice called.

With a sinking in his stomach, he slowly turned back. Lady Mountjoy was standing just outside her front door, waving over to him.

Chapter Four

It was far too early for visitors, but Lady Mountjoy was well known for her hospitality, and taking in those members of her circle who didn’t have anyone else to turn to, so the servants didn’t blink when she asked for tea and toast to be brought up to the drawing room.

‘I just happened to glance out of the window and saw you standing opposite the house, and I thought you had the look of a man who does not know what to do,’ Lady Mountjoy said as she poured the tea. ‘It is early for visiting, but I am sure Miss Ashworth would be amenable to coming down, seeing as it is you.’

‘Miss Ashworth?’ Even as the words left his mouth, he knew his tone was a little too sharp, a little too defensive.

‘She is the reason you are here, is she not? You two did dance beautifully at the ball last night.’