From Rags to Kisses by Shana Galen

Ten

Jenny felt her heartlurch. “That’s a romantic proposal, if I ever ‘eard one.”

The server returned, thumped the glasses of ale on the table, and walked away. Jenny took hers and swallowed a large gulp. Her throat was unaccountably dry.

“I can certainly offer you a place in my bed,” Aidan said, making her heart tighten. This time from desire, not anxiousness. “That’s more than Chamberlayne will do.”

“Ye think I can’t find men to keep my bed warm?”

His dark brows drew together, and she could tell he didn’t like that image. Now he took a long drink. “I think it interesting you choose to tie yourself to a man who will never be able to give you what you need.”

“And wot is it ye think I need?” Her tone was sarcastic to hide her anger. What did Aidan know about what she needed?

“Love,” he said simply.

“Oh, please.”

“Everyone needs love,” he added. “You’ve all but ensured you’ll never have it. It doesn’t surprise me, of course, based on your history.”

Jenny had meant to level some criticisms at Aidan, but she forgot them all when he mentioned her past. It wasn’t like him to play dirty. “Wot’s that mean?”

“Your parents, of course. Ah, thank you,” he told the serving wench, who had reappeared with two bowls of thick stew and crusty, warm bread with a bowl of butter. Jenny’s stomach lurched, and she realized she too was hungry.

“This ‘as nothing to do with my parents,” she said, sniffing the stew. It actually smelled rather good. Perhaps she was becoming as much of a prig as Aidan. She took a bite.

“It has everything to do with your parents,” Aidan said, breaking the bread and handing her half. The image of his doing so was such a reminder of the hundreds of times he’d done that in the past that she had to blink and remind herself she was no longer that girl and he no longer that boy. For a moment, she held the warm bread, trying to reorient herself.

“That’s not to say that my own parents were saints,” he said. “My father might have claimed me and provided for me, but he made no lasting provisions for me, and we never had a true relationship. He was just a man I saw perhaps once a year. He meant nothing to me.”

Jenny hadn’t known Aidan when his father had been alive, but she’d always envied him his relationship with his father, distant as it had been.

“At least yer father didn’t beat the snot out of ye,” she said. “I learned early to stay out of my dad’s way. If ‘e’d been drinking, ‘e’d cuff me for no reason other than ‘e didn’t like the fact that I existed.”

“I remember your father well,” Aidan said, and she knew he was thinking about the time her father had come after her and Aidan had offered to kill him. Aidan had been willing to do anything to protect her. Her father was unpredictable.

Jenny had learned to stay away from home when she’d been seven and her mother had tried to sell her for a few extra coins. Jenny had kicked the man where it hurt and run off. That night she’d waited until her mother was sleeping and returned, taking everything she wanted from the house, which wasn’t much. The next time her mother had tried to sell her, she’d been ten and she’d kicked both the man and her mother then found her father in a gin house, reeking of drink and told him. He’d gone home and beaten her mother until she couldn’t walk for a week. Jenny had felt badly about that, but her mother had never tried to sell her again. But Jenny had never believed she could rely on her father to protect her. One month he’d be kind and the next he’d try and kill her. Aidan had been the first person she truly relied on.

“If that was your experience of marriage, I see why you wouldn’t want it,” he said. “But you deserve love.”

She curled her lip. “Wot do ye know about love?”

“My mother loved me. Yours never did, and I think you grew up thinking no one would ever love you. Now you’re scared to take a chance, so you marry Chamberlayne and never need to risk your heart.”

Jenny stared at Aidan, whose expression was one of surprise. She didn’t think he’d planned to say any of that. He opened his mouth, perhaps to take it back, but then he said, “I loved you, you know. I told you that night.”

“And ye lied.”

“I never lied to you.”

“Ye left me, Aidan,” she hissed, aware that some of the men in the tavern were watching them.

“I tried to help you.” He held up a hand. “And before you tell me—again—that you were insulted by the offer to be a maid in my uncle’s house, you’re right. That was insulting. I didn’t know how else to help you, and I knew I couldn’t help you by staying. I was a liability to you.”

“Never.”

“Jenny.” He shook his head. “You were a better thief than I was, and without me, you only had to feed yourself and watch your own back.”

“Maybe I liked watching yer back. Ever think of that?” she shot back.

“And I liked watching yours. I’m still watching it. Don’t marry someone who can never love you in the way a husband loves a wife.”

“Roland needs me—”

“And you’re his friend and want to help, I know.” Aidan paused, then continued, “When I left you all those years ago, it was because I had to save myself. I know you’re angry I left you behind, but there are times we have to save ourselves. Maybe if you’d loved me, you would have been happy to see me go.”

Her face must have betrayed her thoughts because he reached for her glass of ale, moving it out of her way before she could do as she wanted and toss it in his face.

“Ye ‘ave a lot of nerve to question my love back then.”

But he was right, of course. She’d wanted him to stay for selfish reasons. She had loved him, but it had been a selfish love. Of course, she’d been seventeen and never known love. She’d lashed out, and in the years that followed, she never reconsidered those feelings. Now that he forced her to, she knew he was right. But she’d be damned if she’d admit that.

“Ye might ‘ave watched my back all those years ago, but I don’t want ye watching it now. My engagement is my business, and if that’s wot ye brought me ‘ere to talk about, I’ll go.” She stood.

“That’s not why I brought you here. I told you, I want to lay breadcrumbs for Harley.”

“And ‘ow do ye plan to do that?”

He glanced at the publican, and she shook her head. “Ye’ll get nowhere with ‘im.”

“But you might.”

“Yer an arse, ye know that?”

“You’ve told me enough times.” He leaned close, and she tried not to inhale his scent as he spoke quietly about his plan. It was difficult to concentrate with him so close. She could feel the heat of him and the scent he wore now, something expensive, but underneath it was the scent of Aidan—the scent she remembered from all those years ago.

“Can you do that?” he asked, bringing her back to the present. Jenny wasn’t sure she’d heard a word he said, but she rose and walked on unsteady legs to the bar, where the publican was still listlessly cleaning. He gave her a wary look. “Another ale?” he asked.

“Please.” She took one of the stools and sat, leaning her elbows on the bar.

He went to the cask, opened the spigot and efficiently filled a mug. Then he set it down in front of her. “Put it on ‘is tab,” she said, jerking her head toward the table where Aidan was probably sitting and watching her.

“Done.” He started to move away.

“Ye own this place?” she asked.

He sighed as though he knew what had been coming.

“Wot’s it to ye?”

“Just curious.” She shrugged.

“Me mother said, curiosity killed the cat.”

“My mother said, good thing yer not a cat.”

He smiled wanly. “I’m part owner.”

“The food is good.”

“I know. I don’t ‘ave all night. Whoever ‘e’s looking fer”—he gave Aidan’s table a pointed look—“I don’t know ‘im.”

“Ye can’t know everybody.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t want to ask ye about anyone. I want to tell ye something.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I like to talk.”

“Sure ye do.”

She lowered her voice enough to make the men nearby strain to hear her but not enough so she couldn’t be heard. “My friend over there is rich. Ye know the saying, rich as a king.”

The publican nodded.

“ ‘E’s richer than the king. ‘Is name is Aidan Sterling. Ask around if ye don’t believe me.”

The publican said nothing.

“There’s a girl who goes by the name of ‘Arley.” She raised a hand. “Don’t tell me. Ye don’t know ‘er.”

“That’s right.”

“She saved the wife of a friend of ‘is.” Another jerk of her head toward Aidan. “Mr. Sterling wants to thank this ‘Arley, so ‘e’s offering the girl a reward.”

“Wot’s this to do with me?”

“I’m just talking.”

“Sure ye are.”

“Ye don’t want to know ‘ow much the reward is?”

“I’m sure ye’ll tell me.” His eyes moved past her to the other patrons. “Ye’ll tell us.”

“Just ye,” she said. She leaned over the bar, and the publican hesitated only a moment before leaning close enough so she could whisper in his ear. She wished she could see his face, but she could imagine his eyes opened wide when she whispered the amount. She had no idea if that was the amount Aidan had told her. But it was enough to make people talk. She leaned back. “So if ye ever ‘ear of this ‘Arley, tell her to find Mr. Sterling and collect ‘er reward. ‘E’s done looking for ‘er.”

She hopped off the stool, and Aidan was at her side. He tossed the publican a sovereign, and the publican caught it. “This is more than ye owe.”

“A round for everyone then,” Aidan said. He placed his hand on the small of Jenny’s back and led her out the door and into the street. “Three, two,” he counted. “One.” The sound of conversation exploded behind them. “If news spreads as fast as it used to, she’ll hear about it before dawn.” He looked down at her. “You were magnificent. Haven’t lost your charm.”

“Did ye doubt it?”

“No.” His gaze met hers and held. Prickly heat climbed up her belly, and she was the one who looked away first. One night. She’d promised herself just one night. “I’m going ‘ome now,” she said.

“I’ll take you.”

“I’d rather go alone.”

“Fine. Then we’ll part ways when I put you in a hackney.”

She gave him an indulgent smile. “Ye think I can’t take care of myself.”

“I think I’d like to make sure nothing happens to you.”

His hand touched her back again, and she scooted forward and started walking to avoid his touch. She’d promised herself. She’d promised Roland. She would be married in a few days. She could not go to bed with Aidan again.

He seemed to understand she didn’t want to be touched and moved to walk beside her, his hands in his pockets.

“Ye know,” she said as they walked quickly, but not so quickly as to draw notice. “Ye seem to think ye know everything about me and my scars from the past.”

“I think I know more than most.”

“I know more than most about yers too. And maybe the only reason ye want me now is because ye can’t ‘ave me.”

“Ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“Because I can have you.”

She gave him a look, and he nodded at her. “I saw them too,” he said quietly. “Keep walking.”

“I can ‘andle myself,” she repeated. “Just wanted to make sure ye were ready. When they come for us, if ye want to run, I’ll take care of them.”

“I counted five,” he said. “I don’t think you can handle five on one, even if I were inclined to run, which I’m not.”

The men following them had started moving closer, starting to edge out of the shadows, and Jenny knew the attack would be soon. “Ye seem rather sure of yerself. That ye can ‘ave me, I mean. I’m not one of yer ‘ouses or ‘ats or coats. Ye can’t buy me.”

“The thought never crossed my mind.”

“It will. To ye, blunt is everything. Ye never ‘ad enough all those years and now ye ‘ave to make sure ye’ll never be without. If ye ‘ad me, ye’d just put me on a shelf and forget about me or leave me again for the next bright bauble.”

Aidan stopped and looked at her. “I’d never treat you like that. And I’d never leave you again.”

“Won’t ye?” She raised a brow. “Watch yer back. They’re coming.”

He grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but grin back. And then he swung around and faced the five men who’d come up behind them, hands on his hips. “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

“I think maybe ye can,” the one in the middle said. He was the shortest and the brawniest. “ ‘And over yer coin and we’ll let ye live.”

“I see. I have a counteroffer.”

“Wot’s that mean?” the tall, lanky one asked.

“Close yer potato ‘ole,” the leader said. He looked back at Aidan. “Wot’s that mean?”

“You walk away now, and I’ll let you live.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. Aidan was buying time, as he always did. Usually right about now he would yell something like, “What’s that?” and when they all looked, he took off running. But she could already see two of the men inching around him and toward her. They both wore dirty black caps that had probably been gray at one time.

The leader grinned and slammed a fist into his hand. “Get ‘em, boys.”

Jenny braced herself as the two who’d flanked Aidan rushed for her.

***

WELL, THAT WAS ANNOYING, Aidan thought as he took a swing at the tall lad who reached him first. The leader hadn’t even considered his counteroffer. He lifted his walking stick and slammed the other man who rushed at him over the head. He went down hard, and the leader cursed and took off his coat.

Aidan glanced back at Jenny. One of the men had grabbed her arms and held them behind her back, but she’d used him as leverage to kick the other man in the jaw. Then she reared her head back, butted the other man in the nose, and tumbled free. Aidan returned to his own two attackers. The tall one was coming for him again, but when Aidan swung the stick, he leaned back and just out of range.

“Be a man and fight with yer ‘ands,” the brawny leader said. No surprise as a direct hit from him would take Aidan out.

“Two against one,” Aidan said. “I hardly think that’s sporting.” He heard a grunt behind him and wondered if Jenny had already finished with her two. She was probably impatiently waiting for him.”

“Swing that stick one more time, and I’ll use it to smash yer brains in,” the leader said. He’d been watching from the side, not wading into the fray.

Yet.

“That will give the Charleys something to charge you with. Hullo, boys!” He waved at the imaginary men of the Watch and almost laughed when the two attackers believed it. They both looked behind them, and Aidan smacked the tall one in the head, bringing him to his knees. The leader turned back to him, and Aidan was too close to swing the stick now. He dropped it, kicked it away, and brought up his right fist then his left. The man went down. Aidan turned to find Jenny watching him, her attackers rolling on the ground and moaning in pain.

“Don’t say it,” he said.

She blinked at him, all innocence. “Say wot? I was only wondering wot took ye so long.”

He let out a breath. “I told you not to say it.”

She laughed. “Yer boxing ‘as improved.”

“I’ve watched a lot of mills.” He slid his toe under his walking stick, lifted it into the air, and caught it.

“But ye still like the old look over there bit.”

“Works every time.” He looked down at the men she’d dispatched without a walking stick, studying boxing, or misdirection. “How the hell do you do that?” he asked.

“A lady needs some secrets.” She smiled up at him, and he couldn’t stop himself. He reached for her waist and pulled her against him. His blood was hot, and he could feel her heart pounding in her chest and hear her breath come fast. Before he could take her mouth, she took his. Her kiss was as rough and savage as her fighting, and the assault made his blood run hotter. He pushed her against the wall behind them, wedged his knee between her trousered legs, and pushed against the heat of her core. She moaned and then someone behind them groaned in pain, and Aidan pulled back.

“We should go,” he said, panting. “Before that lot starts thinking about revenge.”

She nodded and took his hand, pulling him behind her until they had crossed into an area with lamplight and hackneys. She raised her hand, but two passed her by before he raised his hand and the next stopped.

“How do ye do that?” she asked.

“A gentleman needs some secrets.” He handed her into the hackney, his hands lingering just a bit too long on her waist. He forced himself to sit across from her. He’d had his kiss and wouldn’t take more unless she offered it. And, oh, but he wanted her to offer it. He needed her like he needed water and food. He craved her. Yes, some of that fervent need was the blood rushing through him, the thrill of the fight, but some of it was just always there when he was in Jenny’s presence. She glanced at him, her gray eyes dark, and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. After what seemed years, the hackney stopped, and Jenny reached for the door. “Walk me to my flat,” she told him.

Aidan didn’t argue. He climbed out after her, paid the driver, and followed her into her building. She took his hand, and the feel of her skin against his made his breath catch in his throat. She pulled him up the stairs, yanked the key from a pocket in her coat at her door, opened it, and stepped inside. Aidan leaned on the door jamb. “Thank you for—”

“Shut yer potato ‘ole,” she said.

Aidan closed his mouth.

“Don’t say a word, understand?”

He nodded. She grabbed his shirt and yanked him inside.