Page 33 of The Marquess of Secrets

A husky groan left Harrison’s throat, causing her heart to pound faster. This generous man caused all her troubles to fade into nothingness. His sensual reaction to her kiss had her longing to crawl into his lap and hold him tight.

He stood and backed away from her all the way to the opposite wall. As he turned down the gas, darkness swallowed him whole.

“Sleep, Lydia. We will continue this discussion tomorrow.”

The door handle gave a soft snick sound as he closed the door behind him.

His scent lingered.

Her skin still throbbed where he’d touched her. Her lips tingled from kissing his warm palm.

Lydia wanted more. Oh, so much more.

At the lowest point of her life, sick as she was, she should not be experiencing such intense emotions. She had no business craving an heir to a duke.

* * *

Harrison hurried toward The Red Lion pub for a luncheon meeting with Sam and his investigator acquaintance, William Robins.

The public house, located near Parliament, was a favorite for members and lords, and even “The Grand Old Man” himself, Prime Minister Gladstone, frequented the place.

The scent of beef and onions inundated his senses, along with the odors of beer and tobacco. The oak bar with stained glass panels took up the entire side of the room. The place was crowded and boisterous, and Harrison scanned the area until he located Sam waving him to the far corner booth.

Harrison nodded to the men as he slipped in across the green leather bench.

“I took the liberty of ordering you a pint of bitter,” Sam said. “William Robins, this is my close friend, Harrison Hornsby, Marquess of Tennington. Harry, William.”

Robins held out his hand, and Harrison took it, giving it a firm shake. William Robins had the look of a copper; along with his no-nonsense aura was a hint of danger. He was far taller than he and Sam, close to six and a half feet at least. His wavy hair was grayer than brown. His dark brown eyes held a steely, intelligent glare as he assessed his surroundings and gave Harrison a thorough inspection.

The barmaid delivered their beers and took their orders for the meat pies before moving to other tables.

“Sam mentioned you wish for me to check on a woman currently in your care, my lord.”

Well, William Robins did not beat about the bush. Harrison gave a quick synopsis of Lydia’s predicament. The investigator pulled a small pad and the nub of a pencil from his side coat pocket, jotting notes as Harrison relayed the facts.

“Do you believe this woman with regards to her narrative, my lord?” Robins asked.

Did he?

The barmaid arrived with the pies, giving Harrison a respite from an immediate reply. His thoughts drifted to last night and the shared intimacy between them. When she kissed his palm, his heart swelled to bursting. But he could not allow himself to be carried away on a wave of intense emotions, even ones he’d never experienced with any other woman.

God, it shook him to his core.

He’d been sorely tempted to pull her close and kiss her. Thoroughly. Savagely.

If Lydia continued to stay at the townhouse, eventually, it would happen as the air fairly crackled between them. But it couldn’t occur, for he would not take advantage of a woman in such a dreadful predicament.

“There’s no mistaking I found her in extreme straits, and there is physical evidence of her mistreatment. She wouldn’t misrepresent her former occupation since it is easy enough to check.” He paused and, in a firm voice, said, “Yes, I believe her.”

“What was the name of the detective who came to the underground shelter, my lord?” Robins asked with pencil poised.

“Detective Constable Willis from G Division. Stated many divisions were investigating this pharmacy theft,” Harrison replied.

Robins grunted. “Coppers pretty much stick to their own boroughs. We can be a territorial lot, my lord. Sounds as if he is investigating this on his own, which means someone hired him off the books to find the nurse. She may not even be a suspect.”

Robins scribbled more notes. “Willis. I’ve heard of him. A weaselly, oily character. Leave it with me. I will get to the bottom of it. Now, gentlemen, we should partake of our pies before they cool.”

The men started to eat, and the conversation turned to mundane subjects, the weather, the dismal, wet spring, how it could carry over into summer and have decided ramifications on certain crops. Robins also proved to be up-to-date on current events like the new “bridge across the Thames” proposal to accommodate the swelling London population.