Page 80 of The Duke's Only Desire

His long strides forced her to nearly run to keep up with him, but he refused to slow, guiding her down the embankment toward the stone steps leading toward the water. Two wherrymen waited nearby with their boats. Chase let out a shrill whistle. One of the men leaned hard against his long paddle andspun his boat toward them, bringing it up against the stairs with a bang of its long side.

“Southwark,” Chase ordered and assisted Sophie onto the wood plank seat. He scanned the embankment above them and the long shadows cast by the sun as it sank behind London’s buildings. “And hurry.”

“Aye, sir!”

Chase helped the man to shove off, then jumped into the boat and sat next to Sophie. But his hand rested beneath his coat, and she didn’t dare contemplate whether he hid a pistol there.

The ride across the Thames was cold, the icy water tossing up waves stirred by the winter wind that whipped through the city and out toward London Bridge, and all of it seemingly made even colder by the dying sun as it slipped completely beneath the horizon. But Sophie was too worried to be bothered with the cold and simply stuck her hands deeper into her muff, her collar turned up against the rapidly oncoming night.

The wherry bumped against a set of steps just west of London Bridge, and the wherryman reached out to grasp the metal pole driven into the last step and swung the boat sideways. He held it there as Chase jumped out of the boat, then reached back for Sophie.

When she was safely ashore, he tossed the man a coin. “You didn’t see us,” he warned in a harsh order.

“See who?” the man returned as he pocketed the coin and shoved off, back into the blackness of the Thames. “Ain’t nothin’ here but us shadows!”

Chase took her arm to guide her up the stairs. As soon as they reached the top, he led her into a rabbit warren of narrow streets and alleys near the cathedral. Only once they reached the main street above the river did he slow their pace, yet they didn’t stop.

“Where are we going?” she huffed out, her breath a ghostly white on the darkening air.

“The George.” He gestured at an inn just down the road. It was four stories high with long white galleries stretching nearly the full length of its façade. Lamps lighting the ground floor and shutters closing in the rooms above signaled that it was awakening for the night, although the inn yard behind would be busy until dawn with coaches and travelers coming and going. “That’s where you’re meeting Mr. Alton.”

“Not Shay?”

“Mr. Alton,” he corrected firmly.

She fought to keep her shoulders from sinking in disappointment. She hadn’t seen Shay in nearly a week, not since she’d left Ravenscroft. She knew he planned on leaving the same morning under the pretense of traveling northwest to a Malvern property near Carlisle—“To be as far away from my wife as possible,” he’d announced to the staff, in hopes of misleading Malcolm’s spies—only to change directions and race to London as fast as he could. He had wanted to arrive before her, hire investigators to hunt down Cora White, and carry out their plan in secret without being seen by anyone. Apparently, including her.

She tried to bolster her hopes. “Is Mr. Alton an investigator?”

Chase didn’t answer, walking on silently. When they reached the inn, he released her arm and stopped. “I’ll wait here.”

To make certain they hadn’t been followed. A chill raced up her spine. She didn’t like this cloak and dagger business at all. Yet with no choice, she hurried forward into the inn.

She paused to let her eyes adjust to the smoky lamplight. The public room was filled with travelers, yet none of them paid her a second glance as she moved forward toward the bar in the corner.

An innkeeper wiped down the bar with a dirty towel. He didn’t bother to look up. “What d’ya need?”

“I’m to meet a Mr. Alton. Can you please tell me where I can find him?”

He jerked up straight at the man’s name. “Mr. Alton, ya say?” When she nodded, he gestured toward the stairs. “He’s been expectin’ ya.”

Snatching up a candle from behind the counter, he led her through the crowded inn and paused only to light the stub on a wall sconce before guiding her up the creaky old steps to the top floor, then to a room tucked into the far end of the hallway. Around them, the inn was alive with travelers and locals eating, drinking…and doing all kinds of things she didn’t want to contemplate.

He handed her the candle and nodded toward the room. “In there.” Then he gave her a deferential nod and left.

Sophie took a deep breath and knocked at the door. When no one answered, she opened the door and stepped inside. “Mr. Alton?”

She paused as her eyes made out a dark figure on the other side of the small, shadow-filled bedroom. Her heart slammed against her breastbone as she closed the door behind her.

She placed the candle onto a wall sconce near the door and turned toward him with a smile. “Mr. Alton, I’ve found you at last.” She removed her bonnet and coat, threw them over the end of the nearby bed, then kicked off her shoes. “You’re a very difficult man to find.” She reached beneath her skirts to untie her stockings and roll them down her legs and off. “I hope you’ll be worth all the trouble.”

“If not,” Shay said as he stalked forward into the dim candlelight, “you can punish me for it.”

Mr. Alton.She’d never been happier to be played for a fool in her life.

Shay grinned, that same wanton smile which haunted her dreams. “What the hell—punish me anyway.”

Her laughter turned to a giggling scream as he scooped her into his arms and tossed her onto the bed. Before she could catch her breath, he was on the mattress with her, his hand pulling up her skirts and his head lowering between her legs to bring his mouth against her. Like a starving man, he devoured her, taking deep licks and greedy mouthfuls until she writhed beneath him in joyous torture.