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Victoria frowned. “I thought you said you don’t have any friends.”

“I don’t.” William nodded and turned away.

It took Victoria a couple of moments before she settled back under the covers. But instead of turning away from him like she usually did, she sidled closer to him until she plastered herself to his back, her arms and legs wrapping around his body.

William turned his head toward her. “What are you doing?”

She let out a small chuckle, her warm breath hitting against his bare back. “When I was little, I used to have nightmares that my father would come and take me away from my sister. Because of that, although I had my own room, I usually slept by my sister’s side.”

William’s heart ached for the little girl who was afraid to lose her sister, and it ached even more for the grown woman who had.

She tightened her arms around him. “My sister would hug me just like this, and then I wouldn’t have nightmares anymore.”

William reached up and covered her hand with his. The idea that this tiny little woman could protect him from the demons of his past should have been laughable. But as he lay there, her warmth enveloping his entire being, he believed she could.

Chapter 17

Twenty four days before the execution…

The next few nights were both torture and bliss.

Sleeping next to Victoria, inhaling her scent and hearing her soft breaths, was something William had dreamed of for over two years. But having her so close and not being able to touch her was worse than anything he had endured in the past… Well, perhaps not everything. But he would give anything to be able to hold her close to him again.

Ever since they made the deal to share the bed, Victoria had been spending less and less time on outings and more time at home. But in a weird twist of fate, William had barely any time to do the same. A few issues needed his immediate attention.

First were the whispers going around about his involvement with recent murders. The aristocratic deaths had gained much attention, and the news about every little detail spread like wildfire. Somehow, it came to be known that every man who had passed away was blackmailed at one point or another by William. This wasn’t a surprise at all.

William had blackmailed half the town, so any combination of deaths would reveal the same thing. But the more disturbing part was that all of those deaths were also members of the Brotherhood of the Crimson Fist, the society responsible for all his childhood horrors.

The only other suspect was the proprietress of the House of Pain and Pleasure, and she had disappeared without a trace together with Ford Gunning. That meant only one suspect remained, and that was William.

If convicted of the deaths, William would be hanged by the rope.

William was not about to let that happen, which meant he had a lot of things to do. He planned to leave London as soon as his time with Victoria elapsed. Whether she came with him or not remained to be seen, but even before returning to England, he had prepared a lovely abode for them in France. It was a much lovelier place than this tower, but he wasn’t going to tell that to Victoria. If she were to come with him, he didn’t want it to be for the promise of gilded gates and glittering mansions. He wanted her to come with him for him…

And then there was another issue involving the people who depended on him and everything he could do for them while he was in London. Suffice it to say that he had spent very little time inside the tower lately, but it had made climbing into bed with Victoria and waiting for her kiss all the sweeter. Another thing that had changed since their bedroom deal, and it had nothing to do with William, but Victoria.

Every time William came home, he found something new around the house, whether it was new curtains or new bedcovers. She even brought some of her uncle’s paintings to hang inside the bedchamber and kitchen. She’d wanted to hang a few in the dressing room, but William had refused. It was the only room he didn’t wish to contain paintings. Having a copper tub and paintings on the walls brought too many dark memories for him to allow it, and thankfully, she did not argue at all.

In less than a week, their little tower was adorned with various paintings, decorated with curtains, little statuettes, vases, and other various objects the names of which William had never known.

William had to admit that it was rather nice having these unnecessary things around the house. They made it feel cozier somehow. He had never had things like this before. Every place he had lived in, no matter how extravagant, always consisted of only essential furniture. But more than that, what pleased him about this was the realization that Victoria was making their house into her home. And it gave him hope.

The biggest surprise happened when he came into his home only to see Victoria, wearing an apron as she stood in the kitchen holding a ladle. William paused in the doorway, staring at the odd vision. Was he asleep?

She turned around with a smile on her face. “I made stew! Can you believe it?”

William walked toward her slowly, his mouth agape. “Not even a little bit.” He sneaked a peek into the pot, and the lovely aroma penetrated his nose. It looked very appetizing as well.

“How did you do it?”

“Well, Gertrude made most of it. I asked her to teach me, and she did. She left five minutes ago, instructing me to take it off the flames in ten. So, in five minutes more it shall be ready. You have time to clean up for dinner.”

William stared at her dumbfounded while she smiled at him with a strange glow in her eyes. After a moment’s pause, Victoria reached out and touched his forehead. As her warm fingers grazed his skin, he couldn’t help but lean into her touch. “Are you unwell?” she asked.

William snapped his head back. “Pardon me?”

“You look… shocked or ill, I do not know which.”