A widows vow, p.24
A Widow's Vow, page 24
She jabbed the knife into the cake and cut him a generous slice, putting it on the plate. ‘Eat.’ She sat down. ‘You’re afraid. ‘’Course you are, but you’re not stupid. Give her time. Mark my words: some way, somehow, you’ll come together if it’s meant to be.’
‘How is that likely when she won’t even meet me halfway? I have to be more than a lackey to her, Doreen. I want to be her partner. In everything.’
She stopped slicing a second piece of cake and stared, the confusion in her eyes slowly changing to comprehension. ‘Ah, I see. This is about your own self-importance.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with my bloody—’
‘You’re a man, aren’t you? Of course it’s to do with you and your feelings. The question is, how can you be her partner? Is it money? Is that what she wants?’
He closed his eyes and pushed his fingers into his closed lids. ‘Everything was going along nicely until some bastard not worthy of licking her damn boots offers to invest in the house.’
‘Why did that change anything?’
He opened his eyes. ‘Because it made me furious.’
‘Because it never occurred to you to ask her such a thing?’ Doreen pushed a slice of cake onto the second plate. ‘Then raise the damn money, Jake. If that’s what it takes to make you feel you have something real to offer her, to enable you to protect her, to be with her. Raise the money and prove to her that you’re here to stay and you respect what she wants to do with her life.’
Jacob stared at her. Was she right? Would offering Louisa his investment in the house prove to her that he didn’t want to stop her ambition? Ease some of the rage in his heart? Would it be enough for her to know he believed in her?
He met Doreen’s gaze as the possibility of some potentially easy cash coming his way poked and prodded at him. His heart raced with adrenaline. ‘I’ve heard the Killer is back in town again.’
Forty-One
Louisa stared at the man sitting across her desk and battled the horrible feeling she was committing adultery. It felt so wrong to be considering other doormen behind Jacob’s back. Yet, it was he who had left the house before dawn that morning without communication of where he was going or even if he would return.
The only saving grace had been when she’d shamefully crept into his room, relieved to find his belongings strewn about the place as usual.
She was doing nothing wrong by interviewing this man. Jacob’s obstinance had put her in this situation. The fault lay with him and him alone.
Inhaling a long breath, Louisa forced a smile. ‘The hours are from eight in the evening to two in the morning. You will be expected to be here on time and not leave before the last gentleman has departed. The safety of my girls is more important to me than any client or any amount of money they might spend. It will be your continual task to ensure the women who work here are happy and unharmed at all times.’
Gruff, in no way handsome – and certainly no Jacob – the man grinned as he leaned forward, his eyes alight with lust. ‘I’ll protect them, Mrs Hill, don’t you worry about that. How many girls work here exactly?’
The lecherous glint in his eyes caused revulsion to twist inside her and Louisa made up her mind. He was leaving. Right now.
He glanced towards the closed study door. ‘Do you offer them for free to your doorman?’
‘What?’
He wiggled his eyebrows. ‘Your girls. Do they come as part of the job?’
Louisa stood. ‘I think we’re finished here, Mr Fielding. I’ll see you to the door.’
‘Hey, wait a minute. All I’m asking—’
There was a knock on the door before it was pushed open and Nancy peered into the room, her smile wide. ‘Sorry to interrupt, only there’s someone here to see you.’
Before Louisa could agree or deny the visitor access, Nancy had reached behind her and grabbed someone’s arm. She practically threw Jacob into the room before slamming the door closed behind her.
Shock reverberated through Louisa as Jacob’s eyes briefly met hers before falling on Mr Fielding.
‘Who’s this?’ Jacob demanded.
She put her hands on her hips, hoping her pleasure and surprise at Jacob’s return didn’t show on her face considering his rude arrogance. ‘Mr Fielding, this is Mr Jackson. Jacob, Mr Fielding.’
Mr Fielding narrowed his eyes and cautiously held out his hand. ‘Mr Jackson.’
Jacob ignored his hand and blatantly appraised the other man from head to toe. His eyes blazing with anger, his cheeks mottled. ‘What do you want?’
Foreboding whispered through Louisa. What did he think he was doing? Did he intend to punch Mr Fielding where he stood? Jacob glared at Mr Fielding with the same look on his face that always scared her. Whenever Jacob wore this particular expression she remembered his fighting; remembered the violence he often felt and had used when necessary. This side of him was discomfiting and she had to make it stop.
‘Jacob.’
He continued to glare at Mr Fielding even when the other man took a step back, the colour seeping from his face.
Nerves rippled through Louisa even as her annoyance rose. She rounded the desk and stormed to the door. ‘Thank you for dropping by, Mr Fielding.’ She pulled open the door and looked at Nancy where she stood a little way along the hallway, feigning interest in a vase of flowers. ‘Nancy? Would you please see Mr Fielding to the door? Thank you.’
Louisa stood straight-backed, her body humming with awareness of Jacob’s proximity, tension permeating the air around him. Mr Fielding tossed a scowl at Jacob and then Louisa, before stomping from the room.
Shoving the door shut, Louisa locked it and rounded on Jacob. ‘What is wrong with you? You can’t come in here, throwing your weight around like a damn ape. Was it really necessary to speak to someone I’m in conference with that way?’
‘In conference?’ He took off his hat and threw it onto her desk, heedless to the papers and bundles lying there. ‘He was here for my job, wasn’t he?’
‘Your job?’ Indignant, she fisted her hands on her hips. ‘Didn’t you leave, Jacob? As far as I knew, never to return. What were your intentions just now? Did you think to pummel the man? Beat him senseless and then throw him over your shoulder and into the street?’
He held her gaze.
‘Answer me.’
‘I might have if he hadn’t left so swiftly.’
‘And you think that makes you a man? To punch and hurt people?’ She stood in front of him, hating that his height meant she was forced to tip her head back. ‘I don’t like violence, Jacob. How many times?’
‘Then why the need for a doorman? If there is any trouble here, what do you expect me to do, Louisa? Pat the offender on his bloody shoulder?’
‘You know very well what I mean. Unnecessary violence. I hate it.’
‘Unnecessary violence? Violence is a necessary evil whether you like it or not.’
‘Oh, when are you going to stop believing such nonsense?’
He gripped her wrist as she brushed past him, his blue eyes burning with fury. ‘You’re glad I’m back, violence or no violence. I daresay you’ve checked my room. Everything I own is still there so whatever you might say, you were safe in the knowledge I hadn’t disappeared.’
Louisa’s heart thundered, her pulse beating under his fingers. God, she longed to pull his face to hers and kiss him. Press her body hard against his, have his hands rip at the hooks on her bodice…
She swallowed and snatched her arm from his grasp. ‘I’m not a mind reader nor a fortune teller. How was I supposed to know you did not mean every word you said? You told me to replace you and that’s what I am trying to do.’
‘And can you replace me?’
The innuendo hung heavy in the air as Louisa struggled to retain her dignity when all she wanted to do was tell him he was entirely irreplaceable to her. Personally and professionally. Pride battled with desire as his beautiful blue eyes stared into hers, his handsome face unmoving, his strong shoulders still with tension.
She swallowed, her body trembling. ‘No, Jacob. As much as it pains me, I don’t think I can.’
He came closer, his gaze on her mouth, her hair, her eyes. Gently, he cupped her cheek before lowering his mouth to hers. To her shame, she slumped against him, her tongue finding his as she grasped the wide, strong circles of his upper arms. They kissed deeper, their tongues tangling until she could feel bruising branded on her lips.
She pulled back, her strength renewed. ‘I won’t give up what I’m building here. Nothing’s changed.’
‘Everything’s changed and you know it.’
‘Not my wish to be free of a man’s control. Not my wish to not have to lean on anyone ever again. Including you.’
A flash of frustration sparked in his gaze before he closed his eyes, his jaw a hard line. ‘Well, then, I suppose we’ll have to find a way to make it work.’ He opened his eyes. ‘Because I want you, Louisa. I think I’m coming to love you and I can’t – I won’t – leave you alone in this house or have someone other than me ensure your safety, Nancy’s and Octavia’s. So, what’s it to be? Do we find a way to make this work? Or would you prefer finding a way to live with me being here and hating me?’
She planted her hands on her hips, her whole body wanting him, yet despising him. ‘Are you telling me what I can and cannot do?’
‘No.’
Annoyance made her heart beat faster and she glared. ‘Yes, you are. You’re not listening to me. I won’t be held hostage to any man ever again.’
‘Then somehow I’m going to have to become your partner. I’ll wait for as long as it takes for you to trust me, maybe even love me, but I’m not leaving.’
She stared into his eyes, her fear escalating at the pure, unadulterated sincerity in his gaze. Weakness threatened and she fought against it, writhed against it, but the power of him was too strong, too powerful to resist. She was falling for him and her stupidity was only deepened by how vehemently he’d displayed his honour despite her rejection.
‘Kiss me.’ She tilted her chin. ‘Just damn well kiss me.’
He slowly smiled and stepped closer, grasping her waist and lifting her atop the desk. Roughly, he parted her legs and stood between them despite the barrier of her skirts and gripped her face in his hands. ‘I love you. Do you understand? I bloody love you.’
Tears pricked her eyes and she defiantly blinked them back. ‘Then show me how much. Right here, right now.’
He heeled off his boots, reached for his belt buckle, his fiery gaze on hers. ‘And afterwards?’
‘You can show me again.’
Forty-Two
Jacob walked into the underground club and squinted through the dense fog of cigar and pipe smoke. The place stank of ale and male sweat, the sawdust beneath his feet scattered with spat tobacco, horse shit and God only knew what else.
These types of places were once his norm, but not anymore. Now he was only here as a means to an end. Tonight’s fight against the Killer would be Jacob’s last and even though it bothered his conscience that Louisa might not forgive him for fighting, he had to focus on the money: the money he could invest in Carson Street, in Louisa and her ambitions.
Deciding to fight had been cemented when Henry and the Killer’s manager had set the match on a Monday night. The one night each week the brothel was closed. Jacob’s being here was fate.
Of course, the chosen night also had a lot with the club’s hope that, even though the Killer had become a crowd puller, the spectators should be fewer than they would be on a weekend. Fingers crossed, the reduced crowd meant there was less chance of the constabulary coming knocking.
‘All set, Jakey?’
Jacob turned from watching the men and women around him roaring and cackling, baying for blood as the warm-up fighters sparred and punched, fuelling the audience’s excitement in anticipation of the main event.
‘Yeah, all good,’ Jacob murmured and raised his eyebrows. ‘We’re still agreed that you only get quarter cut of the winnings, right?’
Henry’s jaw tightened as he looked towards the ring. ‘It’s not as though I’ve much choice in the matter, is it?’
‘No, you haven’t. So we’re agreed?’
‘Yes, Jake, we’re agreed.’
Henry turned. ‘But if you win, I’m betting you’ll want me to sort out who you fight next.’
‘There won’t be a next time. If I come out of this match alive, it will be my last fight. After tonight, we’re finished as far as boxing is concerned. Got it?’
The silence stretched as Jacob stared straight ahead, ignoring the strength of Henry’s glare as it drilled into his temple.
‘You’re a bloody fool,’ Henry said as he snatched his hat from the bar. ‘I hope he smacks ten bales of shit out of you.’
Jacob smiled and raised his bandaged hand in acknowledgement before Henry walked away.
A wave of quiet hushed through the club and Jacob pulled back his shoulders before inhaling a long breath through flared nostrils. The first fight had finished and now the audience looked towards the back door of the darkened club. Tension hovered over the spectators, every face etched with barely suppressed excitement as they stood on their toes, necks craned to watch the Killer emerge.
A huge rumble of applause and cheering broke out as he came out and stopped in front of Jacob.
Tension rippled through every muscle in Jacob’s body as he calmly held the intensity of the Killer’s pale eyes. Adrenaline pumped through Jacob, his heart picking up speed as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
This was one fight there was no chance he’d lose.
The Killer nodded and smiled and Jacob did the same before the Killer led the way to the ring, his huge bulk swaggering from side to side, his smile stretched the breadth of his face.
Jacob narrowed his eyes. There was little point in denying the man’s size or muscle. After all, Jacob knew first-hand just how powerful the Killer’s punch was as much as he was familiar with his potentially lethal tactics. Tactics that had, hopefully, been dealt with tonight as he and the Killer were checked over by the docker who was acting as referee, their bandaged hands and trousers patted over for any weapons, rudimentary or otherwise.
Once done, the referee stood back, raised his hand, looked at Jacob and then the Killer…
‘Begin!’
The roar of the crowd grew in volume as spectators bounced on the balls of their feet, their fists punching the air in Jacob’s peripheral vision. He mentally blanked them all out until his only focus was the Killer.
Hands raised, they slowly circled each other.
Jacob watched him, gaining strength and confidence from the new sombreness in the Killer’s gaze, the unusual rigidness of his body. Suddenly Jacob saw with complete clarity and understanding that the Killer was nothing without a weapon. A legal and moral fight was beyond the man’s ability, beyond his skill.
Winning this fight would not take long at all.
Pulling back his fist, Jacob whacked the Killer a hard punch to the jaw and his head whipped back before he came back with a right-hand swipe of his own that juddered through Jacob’s face, his teeth clattering.
Again and again, Jacob pummelled the Killer’s face and body, jabbing hard and precisely, pushing every ounce of his fire, anger and experience into the onslaught. Time and again, the Killer caught Jacob a worthy punch but it wasn’t enough. Nowhere near…
Clenching his teeth, Jacob pulled back his arm and punched the Killer hard in the ribs with his right fist before swinging his left and ramming in full force into the Killer’s face. Bone cracked, blood flew, and the audience erupted as the Killer hit the sawdust, sending dust flying.
The referee bent over the Killer, his hands on his thighs. ‘You out? Can you stand?’
The Killer’s eyes met Jacob’s, his humiliation and mortification flashing quickly before he closed his eyes and dropped his head to the dust.
‘And he’s out!’
The referee straightened and grabbed Jacob’s wrist, thrusting his arm into the air. ‘And the winner is Jacob “The Man” Jackson!’
The applause swept over Jacob, his gaze still locked on the Killer as he willed him to come around. Nothing mattered until he spoke to the man for the first and very last time.
His manager came into the ring and gave a few slaps to the Killer’s cheeks until his eyes opened. He looked at his manager and then Jacob before allowing his manager to duck under his arm and lift him to his feet. They moved to shuffle past Jacob when he stuck out his hand, planting it to the Killer’s chest.
‘I hope it’s as clear to you as it is to me that you are no fighter. You’re nothing at all without a blade. It ends here, got it? No more illegal boxing, no more fucking bloodshed.’
‘To hell with you,’ the Killer sneered, blood lining his teeth. ‘This isn’t over, Jackson. Just watch your back now and forever, you son of a bitch.’
Jacob smiled and stood back, letting the Killer and his manager fight their way through the crowd waiting to get to Jacob. Their congratulatory slaps landed on his shoulder, the occasional rub to his head as he watched the Killer until he disappeared into the club’s back room.
‘You’re a rich man, Jakey.’ Henry laughed as he came up beside him, his arms crossed as he stared towards the back-room door. ‘A rich man who has a few years of fighting left in him yet, I reckon.’
Jacob pinned him with a glare. ‘It’s over. I’m collecting my money and I don’t want you to speak to me about boxing ever again. If I stop by the house it will be to see Doreen and Colin. If you’re there, I’ll be glad to see you but one word about fighting, Henry, and our association is finished.’
