Beauty and the Blacksmith(21)

It wasn’t a feat he could have kept up all night, but that didn’t matter. His lust had reached such a desperate pitch that a minute or two was all it would take.

If that.

He wanted to keep his eyes open. This was his dream, his fantasy come to life. She was in his arms, all lacy and perfect and dirty and wet. He meant to watch her, keep his gaze on her flushed, glistening cleavage as he came.

But when the pleasure ripped through him, his eyes squeezed shut of their own accord. The fierce jolts of ecstasy sent him someplace dark, and then someplace bright . . .

And then somewhere utterly blank.

Her sweet embrace brought him back. That, and the relentless drumming of the rain.

Somehow he managed to carry her to the table and set her down on the planked surface. He pulled up his trousers and slumped next to her, weak all over.

No more work was getting done on that gate today.

“Oh, Aaron. I’m in such trouble.”

Shaking off the postcoital lethargy, he turned and met her gaze. “If you don’t . . . I . . .”

“No,” she jumped to assure him. “I didn’t mean that way. I have no regrets about today. Or last night. None at all.”

He exhaled with relief. “Whatever the problem, I’ll mend it. That’s what I do. I mend things.”

“This isn’t as simple as a broken latch.”

“Whatever it is, whatever it takes, I will mend it. If you don’t know it by now . . .” He drew a sooty line down her cheek. “Diana, I love you more than my life.”

She bit her lip. “That’s just it. My life’s at stake. I may be charged with a felony.”





CHAPTER 12


Diana waited, breathless, for his reaction.

After long, tense moments, he finally gave her one.

He laughed.

She only wished this were a laughing matter. “It’s not a joke, I’m afraid. I’m under quite serious suspicion.”

“Of what?”

She sat tall on the table, letting her legs dangle over the edge. “When I came down from my chamber this morning, all the ladies were in the dining room. They were whispering about me among themselves. I thought they must have found out about us, about last night. But that wasn’t it. Mrs. Nichols accused me of something entirely different. They think I’ve been stealing.”

“Stealing?” He frowned, all amusement gone from his eyes. “You?”

“There’s been a rash of small things gone missing from the rooming house.”

He nodded. “Charlotte told me about that.”

“She did? When?”

He waved off the question. “Not important now. Go on.”

As she spoke, she tugged at her soiled bodice, pulling it straight. “Last night, while all the ladies were gone to Ambervale, several more items disappeared. This time, some were valuable. Miss Price is missing a gold brooch, and a guinea was stolen from Mrs. Nichols’s own desk. And since I was the only lady who stayed home . . .”

“You couldn’t have been the only one there. What about the maids?”

She shook her head. “Only Matilda was there, and she slept in the same room as Mrs. Nichols. If she’d stirred, the landlady would have noticed. In their eyes, I’m the only one who could have taken the things.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Of course I didn’t,” she said. “I’ve never stolen in my life. It’s clear no one wants to believe it was me, but it seems the only logical explanation. They think I’ve developed a compulsion of some kind. Some sort of illness that drives me to steal.”

She exhaled heavily and wove her hands into a tight lattice of interlaced fingers. “Miss Price has requested a magistrate. I have no choice but to tell them the truth. I’ll tell them it couldn’t have been me, because I was here with you, all night long.”

His eyes flared. “What? Diana, you can’t tell them that.”

The vehemence of his reply took her by surprise. He pushed off the table and went to the forge, raking the coals of the dying fire and feeding it new splits of wood.

“I don’t think I have a choice,” she said. “It is the truth.”

“Yes. And if you tell them, you will be ruined. In truth.”

“Better to be a ruined woman than a suspected thief. Don’t you agree?”

He didn’t agree, nor give any response at all.

“That missing brooch is gold, Aaron. It’s worth a great deal. Thieves are hanged for stealing less.”

“No one’s going to hang you. You’re not a thief. The items will turn up, or someone else will confess. They have no evidence, only suspicion.” He approached her and put his hands on her shoulders. Their weight settled, heavy as a yoke. “Why tell everyone about last night and invite uncharitable gossip?”

She shrugged. “Perhaps I don’t care about the gossip.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Then try a little harder.” Diana was frustrated now. Hadn’t he promised to trust that she knew her own mind?

She tried to explain. “When I came downstairs this morning and saw them all staring at me, I thought we were found out. For a moment, I was stricken by sheer terror. I was certain I’d be ruined. But then something changed. Once I’d resigned myself to the inevitability . . . I felt strangely free. Unashamed, excited. Aaron, I want people to know.”

“Well, I don’t. Not like this.” He released her and began pacing the smithy.

She watched him, perplexed. “I don’t understand. Aren’t we planning to marry?”

“Aye, but I wanted to wed you in a respectable fashion. If they hear about this, people will think we only married because I seduced you and you had no choice.”

“So this is about your pride,” she said. “Your reputation, not mine.”

“It’s both, Diana. But yes, I have a reputation, too. People respect me in this village. This is my home.”

“I hope it will be my home, as well.”

“Then think this through. What if word gets around London that you were defiled by a local craftsman? Good families might stop sending their young ladies to Spindle Cove. The whole village would suffer, and it would be my fault. I might not be able to support you then.”

This probably wasn’t the time to remind him that her dowry, while modest by aristocratic standards, could keep them comfortable for decades. He would only receive it as another insult.

“Aaron, I don’t know what to say. Except that perhaps you should have thought about all this before you carried me to your bed last night.”

He rubbed his mouth. “I wasn’t thinking last night. Obviously.”

Diana struggled to not take offense. She tried, very hard, to interpret his words in the kindest possible light.

When she’d come to his cottage last night, she’d done so with forethought and a full knowledge of the risks. However, he’d been taken by surprise to find her there. And he’d been in a vulnerable state, after a long day spent grappling with mortality and fatigue. Perhaps if he’d had time to think it all through, he would have sent her home and not made love to her.

But even so . . . How could he regret it now? What they’d shared had been so wonderful. At least, it had been wonderful for her. She felt ready to be with him, marry him, pledge her life to him.

Maybe he didn’t feel as ready as she did.

“Aaron, I understand if you’re afraid. I’m frightened, too. We knew it wouldn’t be easy to announce our plans, even under the best of circumstances. But I don’t see a way around telling the truth.”

“It’s easy,” he said. “We wait. In a day or two, this theft business is sure to be resolved. Then I’ll propose to you properly.”

“What if this theft business isn’t resolved? If I’m asked to explain myself, I’m stuck. My choices are between ‘suspected thief’ and ‘known fornicator.’ No matter what, I’m never going to be ‘Perfect Miss Highwood’ again. And it may seem strange, but I’m happy about that. I’m ready to just be me.” She looked him in the eye. “So there’s the question, I suppose. Do you love me? Or just some precious, perfect idea of me?”

His fingers tamed a stray lock of her hair. “Of course I love you. Perfect or not, I think the world of you, Diana. That’s why I can’t bear for our friends and neighbors to think something less.” He swept a gesture down her soiled frock. “I don’t want them believing you’re this kind of girl.”

She flung her arms wide. “Apparently, I am this kind of girl. And you didn’t seem to mind ten minutes ago.”

“That’s different. You know it’s different. There’s what happens between the two of us, and then there’s parading it for public view. We know how we feel, but to anyone else . . .” He cringed at his dark handprint sprawled lewdly over her breast. “You look like a lightskirt who’s entertained a gang of colliers.”