“Very amusing,” Jamie said good-naturedly. “Good night, lads, and thank ye.”
Jamie tossed them each a coin, metal ringing as the coins left his thumb. The two men caught them skillfully, and Jamie led Evie onward. The toughs actually touched their caps, one of them nodding and saying, “Ma’am.”
Evie kept silent until they turned into Baker Street, finding streetlights once more.
“I thought we were going to be robbed,” she said in relief. “How on earth did you do that?”
Jamie sent her a modest glance. “I didn’t do anything. My cousin Alec thrashed the stuffing out of those blokes last week, and since then they’ve fallen all over themselves to do me favors.”
“And what did you do while your cousin fought them?” Evie asked. “Stand by and collect wagers?”
“An excellent idea. I should have.” Jamie shrugged. “I helped a little, but it was mostly Alec. He can channel our fighting ancestors when he wishes, and he wished to at the moment. Wagers.” Jamie trailed off thoughtfully. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Evie stopped herself from laughing hysterically as Jamie led her along the road. He was amassing favors from his cousins, it seemed. Lock picks, fake pots, handy motorcars and their lock-up with a safe, taming the neighborhood ruffians.
The toughs had been correct—two hansoms stood on the east side of the street, while another bearing passengers was just rolling away. Jamie sent up a loud whistle and raised his hand.
One of the hansoms obligingly peeled from its post and moved toward them through the rain and rising mist. Jamie handed Evie in, calling up to the cabbie as Evie settled a dusty lap robe over her skirts.
“Did you say Jubilee Place?” Evie asked as Jamie climbed in beside her. “Where on earth is that?”
“Chelsea,” Jamie answered without worry.
He didn’t explain, only looked out at the traffic as the cab started off at a fast pace.
The walls of the cab kept the rain off, mostly, but it was still bitterly cold. Evie huddled into Jamie’s side, pushing away her qualms to gather up his warmth. Jamie didn’t seem to mind, and obligingly slid his arm across the back of the seat so she could sit closer.
Dear heavens, she’d kissed this man, the thought knocked in Evie’s brain. Not only kissed him, but tried to climb him like a wanton, nipping at his skin as much as he’d licked and bitten hers.
Jamie possibly had marks on him from her teeth, though his high-collared coat hid his throat from view. Evie’s face was hot but, she realized, more from desire than shame.
The same desire had stirred years ago when Jamie had kissed her at the river. Tonight had been different, with still more heat, more desperation. If Evie had not broken from him, what might have happened?
Not long ago, Evie had been trying to imagine her wedding night with Hayden, her mind remaining a careful blank.
What she could picture vividly was Jamie over her in the darkness, his body a welcome weight, his strong hands roving her. His face would relax in passion, and he’d slide into her while Evie groaned, her body tasting a man for the first time. Jamie would be gentle, ensuring he didn’t hurt her, easing her into this new desire.
The image warmed her even through tonight’s cold. Jamie’s bulk at her side inflamed her, until she could think of nothing but lying in his bed, their bed. Their kisses, their desires, the laughter they’d share.
Good heavens, what was the matter with her? Evie couldn’t marry Hayden if she was having such thoughts about another man. Not just any man, this one, here by her side, while Hayden was stuck poring over tedious business details with his father.
Evie could not betray Hayden with fantasies of the exciting, fiery Jamie who would love whatever lady he chose with the intensity of a blazing sun.
But what choice did she have? Evie would be a fool to end a perfectly good betrothal because of her imagination. Jamie hadn’t said, He’s wrong for you—marry me instead. He hadn’t even hinted he wanted to become Evie’s lover. Jamie had kissed her, and she’d kissed him back, and that was the end of it.
And now she could not return to Hayden tonight, because she’d not pushed Jamie away soon enough. She should have immediately protested the kiss, but instead, she’d fallen into Jamie’s arms and enjoyed every second.
The hansom took them south to Oxford Street then down Park Lane, past its elegant, well-lit mansions. The cab continued along the length of Hyde Park, around to Knightsbridge, then south again on Sloane Street.
Evie discerned the route only because she caught sight of street signs now and then. She knew little about this part of London. Whenever she and her mother and sisters traveled to Town to shop, they booked into the hotel on Regent Street they’d meant to stay in this time, ran their errands, and then stepped right back on the train to go home.
The rain streamed down as the cab halted in a tiny lane in front of a modest brick house. It looked respectable enough—quite nice, in fact.
Jamie leapt out and knocked on the door. A maid in a black frock and starched apron pulled it open, gazing out in bewilderment. When she saw Jamie, she smiled and swung the door wide.
Jamie stepped back to the hansom to help Evie descend then led her up the few steps and into the house.
Gavina Mackenzie hastened from a parlor as the agreeable heat of the house poured over Evie’s cold body. Behind Gavina came another young woman with Jamie’s eyes, and Evie glimpsed more ladies behind her.
“Miss McKnight?” Gavina asked in amazement, taking Evie’s cold hands in hers. She bent a beautiful, gray-eyed glare on her cousin. “Jamie, what the devil have you done to her?”
Chapter 14
Evie relinquished herself to Gavina’s care without protest. Gavina towed her up a flight of stairs and into a well-lit room that was softly feminine. The bedchamber Evie used at the Athertons’ home was stiff and informal, a severe contrast to this cozy space.
Gavina had called commands as they went, and now two maids appeared, hauling a tin bath between them. A third provided the steaming water to go with it. An older maid with red hair and a Scottish accent helped Evie out of her clothes, shooing everyone else away so Evie could bathe in private.
“I’m Agnes, love,” the maid said as she helped Evie into the bath with competence. “Don’t let the young ladies worry ye. High spirits, every one of them, but with hearts of gold. You soak a bit now, and you’ll feel better when you emerge.”
Agnes left a large cake of soap, thick towels, and a dressing gown on a nearby table and departed. Evie let out a long breath and leaned back, the hot water closing over her body.
She hadn’t needed to ask whether Jamie had gone, because she’d heard him in the lane, giving a direction to the cabbie, and then the hansom had rumbled away. Evie shivered, though this was the warmest she’d been all night.
Difficult to believe that less than an hour ago, she’d been robbing a museum, then kissing Jamie, then squeezing next to him in the cab while she fantasized about being in bed with him.
Quite a night.
She’d always considered herself a good person, in spite of a few pranks she’d taken part in at university. Now she, engaged, had kissed another man. Not only that, she’d thoroughly enjoyed it. Was she fast, or had this been a single deviation in her character?