If He's Sinful. Hannah Howell
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Название: If He's Sinful

Автор: Hannah Howell

Издательство: Ingram

Жанр: Сказки

Серия: Wherlockes

isbn: 9781420113648

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ need of that, either. The man is not a guest in our home. Recall how we found him and what he was trying to do to Pen.”

      Delmar glanced at Ashton and then pressed his lips together. Ashton gave the boy a brief smile before looking at Stefan, Penelope’s other brother. “She will need to rest. The potion will flee her system but it may take hours to do so and, I believe, she will not feel well afterward. Is there someone who can care for her?”

      “We will.”

      Ashton was about to argue the ability of a pack of boys to care for a sick young woman when Artemis and the others slipped into the room. Brant was the first to reach his side and Ashton waited patiently while his friend studied Penelope and then looked over each of the boys. When Brant finally looked back at him and cocked one dark brow, Ashton sighed. He explained what had happened as quickly and plainly as possible.

      “So Mrs. Cratchitt’s is not quite the genteel establishment it pretends to be,” Brant said and then looked at the boys again. “Do you know how and why she was taken?”

      “Nay,” said Artemis and moved to braid Penelope’s hair. “She was late coming home. The ones who took her must have seen her as easy game.”

      Ashton exchanged a brief look with his friends. He knew the boy was not telling the truth. The expressions his friends wore told him they shared his suspicions. Penelope had secrets and the boys were holding fast to them. It was hard for Ashton to think they were dark or dangerous secrets, but having tasted the madness of a fierce lust, he was not sure he could trust his own instincts when it came to Penelope.

      “The problem now is how to get her out of here without anyone seeing her,” said Ashton. “She is incapable of walking out of here and will be for several hours yet. It is not simply to save her reputation, either. I have a strong feeling she was not brought here because Mrs. Cratchitt was on the hunt for new girls.”

      “Someone is coming for me tomorrow,” Penelope said, not surprised at how weak and soft her voice was. She was clutching tightly to a thin, fraying thread of consciousness. “She did not tell me who.”

      “Yet she sold you to me for the night?”

      “Said she could make sure the man did not know. Someone paid for me to be brought here.” She ached to say who she suspected had done so, but kept the words back. She had no proof.

      One look into her cloudy eyes told Ashton there was no sense in questioning her about that now. She was barely conscious. He looked at his friends, praying one of them had devised a plan. This was not something he really wanted or needed to get mixed up in at this time, but he could not desert the woman and certainly could not leave her at Mrs. Cratchitt’s.

      “The boys can go back out the window,” Brant said. “As soon as they are on the ground, we will draw up the rope. I will tie it about your waist, Ashton, and while you hold the girl, we will lower you out the window. Cornell, you go to the carriage and wait for them. Whitney, Victor, and I will wait here while you take the boys and the lady to their home. There are a few things I wish to do before we leave this place,” he muttered and frowned at Penelope.

      “We do not need help to get her home,” said Artemis.

      “Do not be so proud you refuse help when it is truly needed,” Brant told the boy. “She cannot walk far, if at all, and you cannot carry her through the streets without drawing a great deal of unwanted attention to yourselves. Now, out the window with you. We do not want to have someone catch all of us in this room, do we?”

      Artemis’s lips moved and Ashton suspected the youth was cursing, but he did as he was told. In but moments all the boys were gone and Brant was pulling up the rope. As Ashton prepared to take his turn, he noticed that the rope was similar to what sailors used to catch the side of another ship, the sharp tines of the grappling hook deeply embedded in the wall. He wondered how he had missed the sound of that striking the wood and digging in. Lust had obviously deafened him, he thought as he handed Penelope to Victor with an unsettling reluctance and stood still while Brant secured the rope to his waist. When Brant declared the rope secure, it took all of Ashton’s willpower to stop himself from grabbing for Penelope like some greedy child.

      Shaking aside his unease over his tortured emotions, Ashton sat on the windowsill. He carefully swung his legs around until they hung outside, and then held his breath as he was slowly lowered to the ground. The way Penelope clung to his neck, her face pressed against his shoulder, told him she was still aware enough to realize what was happening around her.

      When his feet touched the ground, he set Penelope on her feet. Artemis and Stefan hurried over to support her as he untied the rope around his waist, but it was clear they were having trouble keeping her upright. Once freed, Ashton waved to his friends who were still in the window and then picked Penelope up again before striding toward the carriage.

      “This is a bad business,” muttered Cornell as the boys scrambled into the carriage.

      All Ashton could do was nod in agreement. He set Penelope on the seat between her brothers and climbed into the carriage to sit down across from her. Cornell climbed in right behind him. It was crowded, and even as he rapped on the roof of the carriage to tell the driver to move, Delmar climbed into his lap. He would have preferred Penelope there, he thought, but put a steadying arm around the boy when the carriage began to move.

      “Do you live far from here?” he asked Artemis.

      “Nay,” the boy replied. “I told your man the way to go as we waited for you and Pen.”

      When they pulled up in front of the house Artemis said was theirs, the tiny hope Ashton had not even realized he had been cherishing died a swift death. The area was home to mistresses, minor aristocracy with empty pockets, and those in trade who had progressed beyond living above their shops. Even if Penelope had good bloodlines and the training to be a viscount’s wife, she would have little or no dowry. He detested being so mercenary in his choice of a wife but the small horde of dependents he was responsible for required him to be so. Penelope might really be the daughter of a marquis but the man had obviously been as reckless with his riches as Ashton’s father had. Or she was not the marquis’s legitimate child.

      Ignoring Artemis’s protest, Ashton lifted Penelope out of the carriage and carried her up the steps to the door. He had only just reached the top step when the door was flung open and more young boys appeared, surrounding him. Penelope was taken from him before he could utter one protest. The boys all thanked him for his aid and hurried a staggering Penelope inside, slamming the door in his face.

      Ashton considered banging on the door but shrugged aside the urge. He had to put the woman out of his mind. On the morrow he would be facing Lord Hutton-Moore, taking that first formal step toward marrying the beautiful, cold Clarissa. He noticed a placard by the door that read WHERLOCKE WARREN and frowned. An odd name for a house, even for one bought for a mistress, he mused as he turned away.

      Once back in the carriage and on his way to Mrs. Cratchitt’s to gather up his friends, Ashton decided he wanted to go home. He needed quiet, needed time to think and strengthen his resolve to do what he had to do for his family. He needed time alone to push all thought and memory of a woman who stirred his blood as none had ever done before right out of his mind.

      Chapter Four

      “Pearls cast before swine, that is what it was.”

      Ashton gave Brant an uneasy smile as his friend walked into his breakfast room and helped himself to a large plate СКАЧАТЬ