“Gentlemen,” Cornell attempted to placate them. “Can’t we discuss this after I see the boy back to his lodgings?”
The first man shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s no’ possible, guvn’r.”
“Very well.” Cornell released Niall, letting him slide to the booth in a heap, while he turned his attention to his adversaries. After all, it wasn’t as if it was the first time he’d ever been in a brawl.
The click of a pistol broke the silence, and a man strode forward. Although garbed in common clothes, when his commanding voice rang out, it was anything but simple. “I’m afraid I can’t let you harm this man.”
Several other men surrounded Lord Haverton as his gaze remained fixed on the two men before him. “And neither can I allow you to continue your quest to tear this city apart.” He gestured to one of the men at his side. “Lieutenant, add these miscreants to the rest of the men we took into custody this evening.”
As the agitators were led away, Lord Haverton lingered to speak with Cornell. “It turns out that your concern over Miss Hill and her family was the break we needed to find out who was responsible for trying to spark a rebellion within the guilds. Those two men were the last of a handful of others, including your Mr. Ottfield.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Cornell said. “But I can’t guarantee that you’ve seen the end of it.”
“I have no doubt of it,” the earl countered. “But maybe by then someone else will be tasked with cleaning up London. To be honest, I prefer a more peaceful route.”
“As do I,” Cornell returned, as he reached down and tossed Niall over his shoulder. He looked at the man who was becoming much more than just a half-brother, but rather, family. “I don’t suppose I could prevail upon your goodwill again?”
Lord Haverton shook his head. “I really should just give you my carriage as you seem to have more need of it than I do.”
“I’m not sure I could drive it across the channel to Ireland.”
The earl’s brows rose. “Thinking of relocating?”
Cornell shrugged. “All the fine shoemakers don’t have to be in Paris or London. I think it’s time Ireland had a master cordwainer.”
“You know,” the earl murmured. “I happen to have an estate near Galway, non-entailed, of course, that has been sadly neglected.” He glanced at Cornell. “Interested?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Sounds perfect.”
Chapter 9
Several hours passed while Pleasant paced the floor and kept checking the window for any sign of Niall or Cornell. Connor and Fiona had fallen asleep hours ago, tucked into their beds upstairs, although the frowns they wore during their slumber proved their unrest at their brother’s absence.
When she heard the door suddenly open on a gust of brisk, night air, Pleasant flew down the stairs and nearly fell to her knees in relief upon seeing Cornell, but when she spied Niall’s unconscious form, she gasped.
“He’s fine,” Cornell assured her, but then he added, “Although he may not be so in the morning.”
This time Pleasant gasped for an entirely different reason. “You mean he’s…drunk?”
“As a lord,” Cornell muttered dryly.
Pleasant shook her head but led Cornell up the stairs where they laid her brother down on his cot, and after removing his boots and jacket, left him in his clothes. He didn’t even stir as a soft snore came from his parted lips.
They went back downstairs, and Pleasant stood in the middle of the floor, a hand on her forehead. “I can’t believe he did this.”
“Don’t be too hard on him,” Cornell said gently. “He’ll suffer enough when he awakens. Something tells me it will be awhile before he imbibes ale again.”
Without warning, Pleasant’s face crumpled and she sank down in Aine’s chair by the fireplace. “I’ve failed them,” she whispered. “Mama hasn’t even been in the ground for one day and already, Niall is out of control.”
Cornell crouched down beside her and forced her to look at him. “People handle their grief in different ways, even children. And Niall is in a difficult place as it is. He’s struggling between remaining a boy and becoming a man.”
She knew she was being selfish, but she couldn’t help the words that fell from her lips. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”
He reached out and slowly began to remove the pins holding up her hair, until it finally fell down her back in a shimmering, copper wave. “But, my love, you seem to forget that you’re not alone.”
Before she could ask him exactly what that meant, he brought her mouth to his. After that, she didn’t want to talk anymore. She just wanted the pain to go away, to pretend once again that she was someone else, someone worthy of being…desirable.
Tomorrow she would consider the consequences.
Tonight she just wanted to feel.
As the kiss grew deeper, Pleasant tumbled onto Cornell’s lap. She straddled him as he sat on the floor and pushed his jacket off of his broad shoulders. He was still fully dressed from the service, but it didn’t take her long to divest him of his waistcoat, cravat and shirt. After he was naked from the waist up, she ran her hands over his biceps, the firelight playing over his muscular arms, his skin still bronzed from his days on board a ship. Even the light patch of dark hair across his chest was permanently lightened from the sun.
She trailed her fingertips over his firm abdomen, but when they would have gone farther, past the waistband of his trousers, he stopped her with a hand on her wrist.
“This doesn’t seem quite fair, my lady,” he purred. “I have yet to touch you.”
For reply, Pleasant reached around and began to unfasten her gown. Growing up without a ladies’ maid to attend her, it had been necessary to don clothes that were easy to put on. And take off.
She stood and allowed the dress to fall to the floor in a puddle of fabric at her feet. She watched as Cornell’s nostrils flared when his gaze settled on the silk stockings. She had worn her plain undergarments that day, but added the stockings as a last minute comfort. A part of her couldn’t seem to let go of the little luxuries to be had in life.
However, now she was glad she’d kept them on, for Cornell lifted his hand and slowly trailed it up her leg, taking the hem of her chemise with him, stopping only when the top of the stocking ended at her thigh. His eyes darkened to the color of a deep forest when he touched her bare skin. “Beautiful,” he whispered.
And then he dared to place his mouth on the apex between her legs.
Her gasp of surprise quickly turned into a moan, as all of her senses were suddenly concentrated on that single area, and the wicked things he was doing to her. She threw her head back in abandon and clutched his head with her hands.
Then, as if she was plunged into a warm abyss, her body trembled, and pleasure unlike anything she’d ever felt before washed over her.
