CHAPTER 1
London, England
September 1825
CAPTAIN OCTAVIAN THORNE’Shead was pounding as he lay prone on the damp grass while trying to restore his senses after falling off the roof of Sir Henry Maxwell’s townhouse in London’s elegant Mayfair. It was dark, well after midnight on this rainy night, and he had taken the plunge while trying to stop Lady Sydney Harcourt from breaking into Sir Henry’s bedchamber to steal her father’s debt vouchers. Syd, who was fast becoming the bane of his existence, was now by his side, her bosom grazing his chest as she leaned over him to run her hands along his big, brutish body. “Leave me alone, Syd.”
“Don’t move, you big ox. I’m just making certain you haven’t broken any bones. I did not mean to push you off the roof. I thought you were one of Sir Henry’s men trying to stop me. You might have said something before I shoved you. What are you doing here?”
“Me? What in blazes are you doing here?”
“Trying to find my father’s vowels and destroy them. Don’t move yet,” she said with urgency when he attempted to sit up. “Please, Octavian. You might have broken bones.”
“And you might have been caught by Sir Henry,” he grumbled back, angry enough to throttle her. “What do you think he would have done to you if he had found you skulking in his bedchamber?”
“Nothing I care to think about,” she admitted, placing a soft hand upon his neck to run her fingers lightly across the napebefore sliding her hands down his chest and leaving a fiery trail wherever she touched. “I saw him go out earlier. I knew he would not be home. Nor is he likely to return for at least another hour. He frequents those debauched gentlemen’s clubs. Look at you, what a mess you are. You ought to know better than to climb onto those rain-slicked tiles.”
“Stop lecturing me and stop touching me. I came here to rescueyou. Sir Henry does not keep his business papers in his bedchamber, something I could have told you if you had bothered to ask me.”
“He doesn’t? How do you know this?”
“I have my sources,” he shot back, his irritation growing along with his discomfort. He was wet, bruised, and still on fire because Syd’s body was practically atop his and she would not take her hands off him.
“Is the Admiralty investigating him?”
“None of your business.”
She said nothing more as she cupped one of his hands in hers and ordered him to wriggle his fingers. “Good, they’re all moving.” She then ordered him to do the same with the other.
“I haven’t broken any bones.” He had merely fallen off the low roof and landed in dense shrubbery before rolling onto the wet grass. It had been raining until a few minutes ago which was why both he and Syd were soaking wet. As for his injuries, they were minor. Only a small bump to his head acquired when his skull came in contact with a protruding tree branch.
“Octavian, do you think you can walk? Let me try to find us a hack and–”
“No, my carriage is around the corner. You’re coming with me to the Thorne residence. I dare not deliver you back home. If you are desperate enough to sneak into Sir Henry’s home, this can only mean your father intends to do something foolish involving you.” He inhaled sharply, feeling a twinge to his ribsthat he ignored since any bruises incurred would fade within a day or two. “Syd, is he threatening to betroth you to Sir Henry? Why did you not come to me as soon as you learned of his plan?”
She gently brushed a stray lock of hair off his brow. “You are a good friend, Octavian. How can I toss you into my father’s messes? As for your question, the answer is no. There is no betrothal planned.”
“No betrothal?” There was something in the soft release of Syd’s breath that had Octavian sitting up and grasping her hand. “Is he going to marry you off straight away then? No betrothal contract or banns read? Tell me the truth, Syd. Is this what he plans to do to save his own hide?”
She finally broke down and allowed her tears to fall. “Tomorrow is the big horse auction at Tattersalls, so Sir Henry will be attending that all day. I’m to marry him the day after tomorrow unless I can get my hands on my father’s vowels and destroy them. The wedding is to take place at St. Andrew’s Church. The plan is for Sir Henry to purchase the license, my father consents, and the ceremony occurs straight afterward. No more than ten minutes, start to finish. Everything a girl dreams of.”
Octavian caressed her cheek. Sir Henry Maxwell, the lecherous old goat, had already buried two young wives. He had no intention of allowing Syd to be the third ill-fated wife, although why he should bother was beyond him. He had survived major battles with less injuries than incurred while rescuing this hazardous hoyden from her numerous scrapes. “So, he has no license yet?”
“None yet.” She shook her head. “But what does it matter? He and my father have it all arranged. And I cannot find some hapless clot to marry me because I am not yet of age and need my father’s consent.”
“Hapless clot?” Octavian could not believe what he was about to offer. Syd was the most infuriating young woman it was ever his misfortune to know, but he had somehow taken her under his wing and sworn he would always protect her.
Yes, he had merely sworn this to himself and never actually made that vow to Syd. However, a vow was a vow. It made no difference who knew of it. She was in trouble and he was determined to save her. One thing for certain, life would never be dull with her. He rolled to his feet with care and drew her up along with him. “Come, you little nuisance. We had better leave before we’re spotted.”
He gave her no chance to protest, quietly lifting her over Sir Henry’s gate and climbing over it next. He caught hold of her hand again, refusing to let go of her until they were safely back at his residence because he did not trust her to stay put.
To his surprise, she did not try to fight him. Instead, she cried fresh tears the moment they were safely in his carriage and underway, making rapid time as the conveyance clattered through the London streets that were fairly empty at this hour.
Seeing her so beaten down was far worse than seeing her angry.
Octavian drew her close and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, wishing she would get that blaze back in her eyes and rail at him again.
Seeing her scared and vulnerable completely destroyed him.
