She found herself smiling back at him, relieved to be distracted by his boyish charm and their easy conversation. After what they had faced earlier and survived, this lighthearted carriage ride seemed a miracle.
“You never asked,” she countered softly.
“Damn, Ellie.” He lowered his head and pressed his forehead to hers. “It was not my intention to make such a muddle of our union.”
She turned in his lap, resting her legs on the bench at his side so she could face him better, her arms looped around his neck. “You did nothing of the sort. We married as different people with different reasons for doing so. But we came together in the best way, and I do not harbor a modicum of regret for anything that has happened.”
“You cannot mean that, love. After what happened with O’Rourke—”
“Hush.” She pressed a finger to his lips, stilling them. “Everything that has happened—the good, the painful, the terrible—has led us to where we are. And at the end of it all, we are here together in this carriage. We are safe, and a terrible man has met his fate. He cannot hurt anyone else ever again, and I am so very thankful for that.”
Hudson’s head fell back against the squabs, a heavy sigh leaving him. “I have been in some dangerous situations over the course of my years with Scotland Yard. When it came down to him or you, I was left with no other choice.”
“You did what was right,” she reassured him. “You are a good and honorable man. I have known that about you from the beginning. Nothing—not what happened tonight, nor anything else—can change that.”
His gaze searched hers. “Your faith in me never faltered. I cannot thank you enough for standing by my side even as the evidence mounted against me. Lesser women would have turned their backs on me in a heartbeat.”
“I will always stand by your side, Hudson. I love you.”
“Ah, Ellie. My sweet, intelligent, capable Ellie. I love you, too.” He lowered his head, his lips perilously near to hers once more. “I am the most fortunate man in all of England.”
She smiled against his mouth. “And I am the most fortunate lady.”
They kissed until their carriage rocked to a halt at the hotel, and then they went inside, arm in arm.
Chapter 18
The Argent Hotel was astoundingly luxurious, blessed with an ostentation that put even the tremendous spectacle of Talleyrand Park partly to shame. Hudson was awake at dawn, pleased with the wisdom of his decision to take rooms here in the aftermath of O’Rourke’s attack. It was modern in every way, the first hotel of its kind to be fitted entirely with electricity. That he had recently become friends with the hotel’s owner, the Marquess of Greymoor, had benefited him greatly in securing lodging at such an unspeakably late hour.
The marvel of electric lights throughout the halls and chambers had distracted Elysande last night. As had the adjoining bathroom, connected to their suite of rooms. They had soaked in the large tub together and fallen asleep on the cloud-like bed wrapped in each other’s arms, exhausted and grateful to be alive.
Gratitude was still humming through him as he watched his wife sleep. He had taken care not to awaken her when he had risen and dressed with the thought that he might procure them some breakfast. But when the time had come to go, he had found himself reluctant to leave. His legs had possessed a mind of their own, taking him to an easy chair in the sitting room where he could still see Elysande.
Foolish, he knew.
It was not as if she would disappear if he were to leave her for ten minutes.
And yet, he could not bring himself to part from her. Last night, he had almost lost her. Impossible to believe. In his life of darkness and death, she had become the light of the sun, which O’Rourke would have extinguished. The pills he had been determined to give Elysande likely contained strychnine. According to Chance, the post-mortem had revealed that particular poison as the cause of Mrs. Lamson’s death.
His vibrant, clever, beautiful wife.
Despite his many years as a detective, regardless of the harrowing occasions he had faced in the past, chasing down murderers and other criminals, he had found himself hopelessly frozen when O’Rourke had appeared in his bedchamber, having apparently entered the town house through the servant’s entrance. His first instinct had been to draw his own weapon, but he had not, for fear O’Rourke would shoot and wound Elysande.
He had been caught unaware in a trap of a madman’s making.
There was a foreign burning behind his eyes. He had almost lost her last night. Her wit and bravery had saved them both. A pressure rose in his chest. Surely not?
Tears.
Yes, his cheeks were wet, his shoulders shaking. And to his dismay, a sob tore free, the sound echoing in the quiet of the chamber. On the bed, Elysande stirred, her bare arm reaching for the place where he had slept at her side.
“Hudson?” She patted his abandoned pillow, the sleepiness in her voice giving way to a greater urgency, almost frantic. “Hudson?”
“I am here, my love,” he reassured her, rising from the chair and going to her.
Silken chestnut curls tumbled around her shoulders as she sat up, holding the bedclothes to her breasts. Her eyes were wide, her gaze a little wild as it settled on him. “You are here. Thank God. I had the most wretched dream. O’Rourke was here, and he forced me to take his poison, and then he…he shot you.”
He sat on the bed and drew her into his arms, his heart giving a pang at the terror in her voice. “He is gone, Ellie. He can never hurt you or anyone else again.”
