Wicked Intentions (Maiden Lane #1)(65)

The thought comforted her.

When next she was aware, the carriage had drawn to a halt and he was gently shaking her shoulder. “Up, my sleeping beauty.”

She opened her eyes and yawned. “Is it dawn?”

He glanced to the window. “It soon will be. I have a feeling your brother will take a strip from my hide if I don’t have you home before the first light.”

That woke her up a bit more. She scrambled upright and felt to make sure her hair was still in place. “Oh, I’ve lost a slipper.”

She bent to look on the floor, but he’d already knelt and felt along the base of the seat. “Here ’tis.”

He took her stockinged foot and gently slid the slipper back on. She stared, dazed, down at his silver head.

He must’ve felt her look for he glanced up, his eyes darkening. But he merely said, “Ready?”

She nodded, unable to trust her voice.

He helped her from the carriage and walked her to the door of the foundling home. The light had turned gray as they’d approached, but no one yet stirred on the street. She turned as they reached the door, placing a hand on his chest.

“Caire…” She wasn’t sure what she was about to say, but it didn’t matter anyway.

He bent his head and brushed her lips with his, murmuring, “Good night, Mrs. Dews.”

He turned away.

She watched his broad back blend into the gray mist; then she opened the door to the foundling home with her key. She yawned as she barred the door behind her, then hopped on first one foot and then the other as she removed her heeled slippers. Afterward, she wandered into the kitchen.

Four male heads swung around at her entrance. Temperance stared. Surely her brothers hadn’t waited up all night just for her? But there was something else wrong. For the fourth male was her brother-in-law, William, and his eyes were red.

Her gaze flew to Winter. “Silence.”

Winter looked drawn and years older than his true age. “Silence has been missing since yesterday afternoon.”

HE’D TOLD HER to unlace her bodice and to take down her hair, so she had.

Silence walked from Charming Mickey O’Connor’s bedroom with her hair trailing down her back. His bedroom was on the floor above the throne room, and in the hall outside, she came upon a maid—the first female servant she’d seen here. The woman stared at her and then looked quickly away again, back to her work of polishing the multicolored marble floor. For a moment, Silence wondered if the maid had any help in her chore, or if perhaps that was all she did? Polish yard after yard of amazing marble floor? If so, it was a task she did not envy the woman.

“This way, miss,” a male voice called.

She looked up and saw that Harry waited for her. His eyes were filled with pity.

Silence straightened her shoulders. “Thank you.”

The guard hesitated. “Would you like to put yourself to rights?”

He kept his gaze firmly away from the tops of her breasts, revealed by her open bodice.

“No,” Silence whispered. “No, thank you.”

Charming Mickey had made it plain that straightening herself was not allowed.

Harry looked at her helplessly for a moment and then nodded. He turned and led the way down the curving marble stairs. Other people were up by now, for it was well past dawn, and the expressions as they saw her varied. Some were pitying like Harry. Some—mostly women—looked envious. But the majority were merely contemptuous; one bold fellow even dared to wink at her before Harry shoved him hard into the wall. After that, most turned their faces away as she passed.

They came to the front door, and Harry held it open for her.

“If’n you need anything, miss, just ask,” he muttered as she passed.

“Thank you,” she replied politely, “but I have everything I came for.”

And she walked into the bright, merciless sunshine.

Charming Mickey had been quite explicit in his instructions, so she placed one foot in front of the other and walked up the middle of the dingy St. Giles street, her long hair blowing in the wind. She didn’t look left or right but kept her eyes focused straight ahead, even when the whores returning home called crude things to her.

She closed her ears and heart and heard nothing, saw nothing, until directly in front of her she saw Temperance’s face, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Then Silence gasped once and felt the sting of tears at her own eyes.

But by then she’d made it to the end of the street, so it was quite all right. She’d followed his instructions, done everything he’d said, and he’d honor his part of the bargain as well.

Except her life would never be the same again.

Chapter Twelve

Meg sighed. “This is not love, Your Majesty.”

King Lockedheart froze in the act of feeding a small morsel of cake to the little blue bird. “Then what is it?”

“Fear,” Meg said simply. “Your courtiers fear you, Your Majesty.”

The king grunted and seemed pensive.

“Take her back to the dungeons,” he ordered the guards. “And, Meg?”

“Your Majesty?”

“Take care you comb your hair when next I see you.”

“But I need a comb and pins to dress my hair,” Meg said softly.

The king only nodded impatiently and once again Meg was led away….