Page 45 of The Viscount of Shadows

“It makes for ease of movement. I saw a photograph of men in the wilds of the American West wearing leather vests, long coats called dusters, and leather coverings over their trousers. I paid a saddle maker good money to craft a similar outfit I designed.”

“How clever. And it is smart to stay anonymous. And if your cousin joins you, that secret is also safe with me. Are there any other reasons for doing this?” Claudia asked, wholly absorbed in their conversation.

“Well, as I mentioned, I help people in real time. It is infinitely more satisfying than working on legislation that may take years. I try not to obsess over it, for I cannot help everyone. Oh—Christ!” Oliver yelled, biting his lip. The pain that trundled through him caused his vision to blur.

Claudia sat upright. “No more conversation. You need help now. I have been working on a plan. Hear me out,” she whispered as she laid the blanket over him, tucking it under his chin. “I will change into those laborer clothes in the trunk and head to the police precinct and locate Simpson. I will ask him to do a raid in The Piggeries, inspect houses and the like, and even arrest a few of Danaher’s men, make a real show of it. Simpson and two constables will enter this building, and two will walk out. One of them will be you.”

“How?”

“Simpson can smuggle in a uniform for you to change into. It means you must walk out as if you are not injured. As for the uniformed copper, he can slip out and join another group of constables.”

“Danaher’s men might be watching the rear of the courtyard; they may catch you before you can even put this plan into motion. And it is a good one.”

She is utterly magnificent.

Especially when her beautiful hazel eyes sparkled with excitement and interest.

“Thank you. Perhaps I should wait until the sun goes down, but it is best I go now. As I said earlier, you can bet others have noticed that we have been missing all night. I am sure your servants and your cousin are aware, and so are Edwina Callen and The Galway Agency.”

“Then, I am obliged to marry you since we have been alone all night,” he smiled shakily.

Claudia gave him a dubious look. “You are jesting, surely.”

“If this were 1806, society would insist. My honor as a gentleman would brook no argument. Also, and more importantly, your reputation must be protected.”

Claudia chuckled. “Now I know you are kidding. I have no reputation to protect.”

Still, why in hell had he mentioned it? It must be the fever. Somewhere, deep inside of him, that germination of an idea, silly or not, took a foothold in his mind.

“Let’s be serious,” Claudia stated firmly. “Perhaps family and acquaintances have coppers looking for us right now. They all know I have been to Notting Dale, and so does your cousin. This would be the logical place to look. I have to try and get assistance. You require immediate medical attention.”

“What if Danaher and his men apprehend you? Perhaps we should just stay put. Simpson knows of this hiding place.”

Claudia shook her head. “But Simpson doesn’t know that we are missing.”

Oliver’s mind was in a whirl, his thoughts jumbled. “He doesn’t know—yet. I told Rett about Simpson. Maybe he will seek out the detective.”

“That is a big if. And it may take more time than we can spare.”

The flame in the oil lamp flickered. Oliver cast a glance toward it. “There is only a little oil left.”

“All the more reason for me to leave. There is hardly any food or water remaining. We cannot stay down here any longer.” Not waiting for his reply, Claudia tore off her tattered gown and tossed it aside. Wearing nothing but a thin chemise and frayed drawers, his heart hitched at her luscious curves. Strapped to her thigh was her knife, tucked away in its holder. He moaned at the glorious sight of her.

“Are you in pain?”

“Of a sort,” Oliver croaked, growing aroused. “Is it wrong of me to admire your beauty again, but most of all, your courage?”

Her look softened. “No, it’s not wrong. I am quite gratified that you find me attractive.”

“Is it reciprocated?” Be damned if he sounded emotionally susceptible.

She dropped to her knees before him, cupping his face with her hands. “Oh, yes. It most definitely is.” Claudia leaned in and kissed him. That touch of her lips, the warmth and softness, gave Oliver a brief spurt of energy. He hungrily devoured her mouth, his tongue slipping in and tangling with hers. She froze momentarily at the ferociousness of his kiss but then dove in, giving everything back and more.

Oliver had kissed his share of young ladies. But this? Beyond all his expectations. Earth-shattering. Utterly splendid. He tunneled his fingers through her glorious hair, which was as silky as he had imagined. Moaning, he took the kiss deeper, eager to taste her sweetness. A soft sigh escaped the corner of her mouth as she moved her hands into his hair, gently grabbing fistfuls while she enthusiastically kissed him in return. Passion existed deep within Claudia. Of that, there was no doubt. He wanted more, oh so much more. Then, as if a puncture had deflated a balloon, Oliver fell back on the pallet, weakness overtaking him.

“Hell’s bells,” she murmured, brushing her finger across her swollen lips.

“Indeed. We have much more to explore,” Oliver rasped faintly.