Daring the Duke (28 page)

"Leonard and three others attacked us last night. I knew then he wasn’t working for you."

"Nope. And I don’t believe you killed that solicitor fella neither."

Audrey grimaced. "Thank you for that vote of confidence. Am I to take it from your comment that others believe I did?"

He nodded. "Many believe it."

"Well, the Duke of Marston doesn’t. And he can vouch for my whereabouts that night."

Flanagan looked speculative. "But will he? You’re going to be on the wrong side of him this l time tomorrow, ain’t ya?"

She stiffened. "It’s no matter."

"Wouldn’t say that. You’re in deep, girl. But there might be some good news for ye."

Audrey’s skin tingled. “You located Faye?"

"Not yet, but the boys are closing in. By the end of the week, I should think."

Her shoulders drooped. The end of the week was too late.

"Go home and get some rest, you look terrible." He paused. "Or would you rather stay here?" His too-perceptive eyes searched hers.

"No, I need to take care of some loose ends. But . . . thanks." This was new territory for her. Flanagan was a good man, but he had never been overly demonstrative.

He sat back and studied her. "I’ll be glad to see you sail away, Hermes."

"What?" How had he known?

"Of course, it won’t be the same here in London without you. But you were slipping away. I could see it in your eyes. Why do you think I let you leave Olympus?"

"I left because I wanted to."

"Aye, but I didn’t have to release you. From the outside it wouldn’t look to be in my best interests even."

She knew where the conversation was going, where she didn’t want to tread, but it was as if Mesmer sat before her. "Then why did you do it?"

"You know why. A few more jobs, and you were going to end up like the bird that shot Johnny. Cold inside."

"What’s to say I wouldn't still turn that way?"

He ran a coin through his fingers. "Only you, Audrey, only you."

The last time he had called her Audrey had been when he told her it was no longer her name—that Audrey was dead, and only Hermes remained.

Audrey had been born again, but a yawning chasm was still before her.

The bridge that had been tentatively constructed in the last few days with Stephen was about to be broken.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Flanagan. I’ll see you again soon."

"Expect so, expect so. Happy hunting." He looked back to his coins with a jerking motion. Emotion clogged her throat. Oh, yes, those long years ago when she had been deposited in the back alley—things could have been so much worse. Maddox had done her a favor, though she’d never tell him so. Audrey turned and walked through the door. No gesture would be welcome. No gesture was needed.

She looked at the sky, the sun was sinking--it was growing late. Stephen would return to his town house soon, and she needed to get there before he did.

Retracing her steps through the back of the yard, she breathed a sigh of relief to see the conservatory in darkness. She had made it.

She stepped toward the door and an arm reached out and grabbed her. .

"Dammit, Audrey," Stephen was still saying twenty minutes later as she was toweling off from her bath. He had been tight-lipped after seizing her at the door, but he had ordered her a hot bath after fully seeing her.

If she weren’t still feeling so miserable, she would have kissed him for it.

"I asked you to remain here, and you left. You know you’re a marked woman with the runners after you."

"Stephen, it’s you someone is trying to kill. How dare you accuse me of taking risks when you always put yourself in jeopardy."

He seemed oddly intent. "One can’t live a life in fear."

"Exactly! That is my point."

Something flared in his eyes, and it made her nervous. He got that look when he was about to declare checkmate. "Audrey what do you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you want from life? What will you do after you find your sister?"

"I don’t know." She felt tired. "I suppose I’ll wake up again the next day and go to sleep at night."

"And?"

"And that’s it. I try not to think too far ahead. My motto is to live each day fully because you may not have another to experience."

"Sounds like you are afraid to live."

Irritation surged within her. "I can read your face and know what you are thinking. But it’s not easy on the streets. People die all the time, Chalmers. It doesn’t pay to stare at the stars and ignore the horse droppings in your path."

"If you don’t have dreams, you’re an empty shell."

She gripped her towel so hard that her hands hurt. "An empty shell is still a live shell."

"It depends on your definition of alive."

"Life is betrayal."

"Or maybe you betray life."

She launched herself at him. He caught her, wrapping his arms around her chest. She made a few primal sounds and struggled to pull free. He spun her around and stroked her hair.

Agonizing sobs poured forth. He picked her up and carried her to the large armchair against the wall. Sitting down, he cradled her in his lap.

She gripped the back of his hair as if grabbing a lifeline.

As if sensing in herself that soothing noises weren’t what she needed, she grabbed his face and kissed him hard. The next few minutes were a flurry of towels, hands, and lips.

Not bothering to move from the chair or waste energy doing anything that required time away from touching and kissing, they made love like there would be no tomorrow. lt was wild, passionate, and slightly desperate.

The actions of two people holding on until the end, desperately hoping for more and trying to extend the present.

It was sad, joyful, exhilarating, and heartbreaking.

They finally dragged themselves into bed and lay entwined, clinging to each other, not willing to relinquish the night.

She rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. He stroked her back until her breathing became even. She had told him that she detested him for his charmed life. But the only thing she hated him for was making her fall in love with him.

Stephen smoothed Audrey’s hair and gazed at her sleeping features. The recurrent question was ever-present. What was he going to do with her?

He closed his eyes, and soon his breathing was as even as Audrey’s.

Audrey waited for Stephen to fall asleep. She had feigned sleeping so many times she considered herself a pro. This time she had truly earned the title.

She looked at his handsome profile, relaxed in sleep. Lord, he was good-looking. And thoughtful. And caring. And stable. He was the most wonderfully grounded man, but with a verve for life that would always keep him from being stuffy. Dear God, why had she fallen in love with this man?

Audrey slipped from his embrace, regretting more than ever her chosen path. There was no room for a man in her life. And if there ever were room, a woman like her didn’t deserve a perfect man like Stephen.

She slipped into the closet and gazed at the bureau. Inside was the secret compartment she had never found. The compartment he had opened while she had been undressing for her bath. She bit her lip. That he had trusted her enough to open the compartment while she was even in the same house, no less in the next room over . . .

She swallowed and buffered her resolve. Kneeling, she turned a series of knobs, exposing the bounty beneath. It was an ingenious system. The lever was completely invisible until triggered. And the innocuous-looking bureau already contained a very easy-to-find hidden compartment, making the one underneath that much more devilish.

She opened the box and was startled to see the keepsakes within. Her white satin ribbon from the costume ball was on top. The last time she had seen it, he’d been caressing it with his fingers, a sad pensive expression on his face. A miniature of a smiling blond woman was next to the ribbon. Her features proclaimed her a close relation. His mother no doubt. A heavy signet ring was alongside. His father’s?

Audrey could scarcely breathe. He had placed her ribbon inside the box with his most private and treasured possessions.

Remorse clogged her throat as she moved the things aside. She had to think clearly, rationally--like Hermes, master thief. Some documents and items occupied the next layer, and she shifted them as well.

A dull glint caught her eye. A pocket watch.

She picked it up and examined the watch that Travers so desperately desired. Opening it she traced a set of initials and what appeared to be a family motto. It had to be a gift from Travers’s father or brother. It looked like a family heirloom, which would explain Travers’s bitterness.

This was the one item that she knew would buy her sister’s freedom.

The item that would lead to Audrey’s damnation.

Audrey reassembled the contents on top, pausing over the ribbon, miniature, and ring. She added a letter she had written earlier and locked everything in place.

Stephen would know it was she who had taken the watch, but perhaps he wouldn’t check for a day or two. Just enough time for her to save Faye and, she hoped, make amends.

She dressed in her shirt and trousers, pocketed the watch, and stepped back to the bed. Stephen was sound asleep, breathing deeply.

The last few days with him had been beautiful and warm, like the summer. Their frenzied passion and the soft, whispered words in the dark had been a glorious autumn. And now the inevitable winter. Barren trees, frost, and cold nights. She had been walking down winter 's path for so long. The reprieve with Stephen would forever be locked in her heart, a memory.

The clogged feeling threatened to overcome her, and she turned away.

She abandoned her traveling case and slipped through the door, silent tears streaming down her face. Despair and regret mingled. She’d be fine.

Faye would be saved and could make a new life in America, while Audrey accepted the responsibility for her actions. It was time for her to pay the price.

She stepped back onto the streets.

Stephen waited until he knew she had left the house. She moved noiselessly, but something inside him signaled that she had slipped out the front door.

He wiped a hand across his face and sat upright. She had taken the watch.

He had known she would after one of his men had relayed the overheard conversation with Travers in the tavern. Stephen had deliberately shown her where the hiding place was.

And he had hoped she wouldn’t steal it. Had known she would, but had desperately wanted to be proven wrong. The game was once more afoot.

Unless he accompanied her, she would be followed as soon as she left the house.

He activated the secret compartments and opened the box. He slid the ribbon through his fingers. The ribbon would remain in the box. A piece of parchment with her handwriting caught his eye and he moved into the light to read it.

He felt a stab of pain, then of resolve. The chase was back on.

It took nearly an hour to walk to her house. She considered it an early penance. One last breath of free air and space to move her legs before it was snatched away.

She was in a miserable state by the time she reached the brick house. All she wanted to do was clean up and sleep. But as she approached the house she noticed something was peculiar. She checked the street. She had made sure no one was following, but there could easily be men watching for her return.

The shades were drawn in all of the downstairs windows. She walked past the house and around the corner. It took extra time to dart through the small backyards and around the gardens and fences, but caution was time well spent.

Scooting around the back of her house, she peered into the drawing room window. The shade was partially cracked. She could vaguely make out a shape in a chair. Maddox. A fist connected with his jaw, forcing his head to jerk back. Audrey pulled to the side.

Maddox’s troubles had finally caught up with him. She chewed her lip, trying to decide what to do. He was the bane of her existence—always creeping in at the wrong moment, always ruining whatever she had going.

How much easier life would be without him. It didn’t take long to make her choice.

Audrey crept through the back door and down the hallway. The servants had probably bolted at the first sign of trouble. She pulled out the small pistol that Stephen had given her the night before. It was unloaded, but only she knew that. Peeking around the corner she saw one man pummeling Maddox. Blood dripped down his face. Lucky for him the attack had only just begun. Lucky for her they had put down their pistols while tying Maddox to the chair.

One man was the talker, the other the muscle. "You don’t got the money, do you, Maddox? Marty here don’t like it when there's no money to pay the vouchers. Don’t you know who you’re messing with?"

If the muscle was Marty Hendrix, that made the lippy one Stan. Taking aim at Stan she stepped around the corner, far enough to be out of reach of Marty the muscle.

"I assume you are the Hendrix brothers?"

Stan squinted at her and eyed his gun on the table. "Who the hell is this, Maddox? Honey put that little gun down before you get hurt."

She kept the gun steady "How much does he owe you?"

He took her measure. "A thousand pounds and another five hundred for our troubles. "