Page 74 of Wake Me Most Wickedly
“And you found his whereabouts for… Frederick?”
A hard lump of fear grew in his chest.Oh, Frederick, what have you done?And it was as if a large puzzle piece that had been just out of reach fell into his hand.
“I did. That’s what I was doing when I was under your window,” she explained, her expression curious.
“That was the first job he hired you for?” he asked before a thought occurred to him. “How did you come to work for my brother?”
“He found me,” she said, pursing her lips. “I suspect he’d seen you visit the shop—twice—so he saw an opportunity and took it.” She looked away. “Though he probably had quite a bit of information on me first. Your brother doesn’t strike me as the sort of person to do anything without a plan.”
“No, he’s not,” Sol murmured in agreement, his mind still stuck on the idea of Frederick doing something so dangerous. Yes, Penrose had been working hard to take the woman he loved away, with Stoudmire as an accomplice, but this wasn’t—Frederick was protective, but honorable. There must be more to the story.
Sol’s heart squeezed. God, what had he done that his brother no longer shared his plans with him? Did no one trust him at all?
“But what does that have to do with anything?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“That man… the marquess’s son… he was also attacked recently. I suspect his valet shared his schedule.” He shook his head slowly. “Vengeance for his attack is certainly a possible motive for mine.” He glanced up at her. “You don’t look surprised.”
She looked rather stricken in fact.
Shaking her head, she straightened. “I didn’t get the sense that this foray into my world was his first,” she told him. “And your brother is on the verge of being powerful in a respectable way as well. Men like that often make enemies.” She raised a finger. “Yourbrother’s building you protection from all of that. But if I remain, I can only ruin it for you.”
And the crack in her voice almost felled him.
Sol took a step toward her. “No, there has to be another—”
“He loves Lady Drucilla and will take steps to protect her,” Hannah said, arching a brow.
He blinked at her. “What sort of—” he started before grimacing. Her meaning became clear. If she and Frederick were at odds, she feared that he might use his new power in ways that could be costly to her. Which, given what she now knew he’d done to a rival before he had his access to titled gentiles, wasn’t such a great leap.
However, Hannah didn’t know his brother. Not truly. Sol shook his head. “But he wouldn’t actually—”
“He loves Lady Drucilla,” she repeated and closed her eyes for a moment. Sol moved closer, ready to take her in his arms, but she moved away, wrapping her arms around her body. “And I don’t love you.”
It was as if she’d slapped him. He might’ve stumbled back. “What?” he whispered.
“I don’t love you,” she said, this time her voice clearer and stronger. “I was just using you.”
She almost convinced him. Except her eyes, there was pain there. And she’d started to shiver. No, this woman should not give up the pawnshop for a career on the stage.
“Using me?” He folded his arms. “For what?” he challenged.
“The same thing I’ve gotten from dozens of men.” She lifted her chin defiantly but did not meet his eyes. “And there are quite a few in my world, with much more to offer me. In more ways than one.” She jutted out a hip and placed a hand on it.
It would’ve been funny how unbelievable her performance was if it wasn’t also so infuriating. “You’re a terrible actress,” he told her.
“Then just let me go,” she snapped at him. “Please, let me go.”
“Why?” he demanded. “Tell me why. A real reason, not some sort of half-truth or lie.”
“Because I—” she started to say then closed her mouth firmly. Her swallow was visible. “Because this is what’s best for you.” She folded her arms again as if she was somehow irritated with him.
That was rich.
“What’s best for me?” he asked. How dare she? How absolutely dare she? He shook his head and turned away. “That’s quite arrogant, isn’t it?” He whirled back around and glared at her, raising a brow. “Do you think me foolish?”
She hung her head. “No,” she whispered. “No. You’re quite clever.” Her voice increased in volume and she gestured widely. “Brilliant, actually. More than you realize, I think.”
Then why? Why would she not trust him? Trust them?
