Page 20 of Lady Gambit
The comment sliced through his defences. Memories he’d tried hard to forget burst into his mind. He could hear his mother’s needy voice echoing in his head.
Don’t send him to school, Augustus.
The boy can have a tutor.
She had selfish reasons for keeping him at home. When Augustus tired of her, he still had a reason to visit.
The boy needs an education, Martha.
Oh, he’d learned many hard lessons in that hellhole.
Kingsley appeared, his panicked tone dragging Dorian to the present. “Briggs mentioned an accident, sir. A shooting in town.” The thin man’s gaze moved from Dorian to the beautiful woman with blood on her dress, and he stared, somewhat dumbstruck.
“We have guests, Kingsley.” His butler had never had to deal with visitors, let alone a beautiful woman of marriageable age. He needed to brace himself for Aaron Chance’s arrival. They all did. “Miss Chance’s brother has been shot. Briggs will take you into Walworth to fetch Dr Skinner.”
Briggs returned. “Mrs James is heating the water, sir.”
Dorian instructed Briggs to help him carry Theodore Chance upstairs to the largest bedchamber and then sent him on his errand. The room was decorated in a soft pink, the bed hangings a sage green velvet that matched the chairs in the adjoining salon.
Miss Chance scanned the decor with an appreciative eye. “Are you sure you’re not looking for a wife, Mr Flynn? This would be a perfect room for a new bride.”
“I’ve not decorated the room since I purchased the property. I’ve been too busy to make any changes. And I’m not wasteful.”
Mrs James arrived with a pitcher of water for the washbowl. “Sir, if I’d known to expect guests, I’d have aired the room.”
He made the introductions and assured the middle-aged woman she was not at fault. “Mr Chance will sleep for the most part. I doubt he’ll notice a speck of dust on the nightstand.”
Miss Chance took the heavy pitcher from the housekeeper’s shaky hands. “Thank you, Mrs James. I know what a terrible inconvenience this must be. If there is anything I can do to assist you, please ask.”
Mrs James glanced at the lady’s fine clothes and kind brown eyes. “I thank you, miss, but I’m more than able to cope. Tending to a sleeping man will be no trouble.”
Miss Chance’s teeth grazed her bottom lip. “I’m not sure you understand. The doctor will insist my brother remains in bed until there’s no fear of a fever. I couldn’t possibly leave him, which means I shall need a room here, too.”
Dorian froze.
His mind ran wild.
He’d spent the last few minutes considering how he’d become embroiled in this mess. He could deal with Aaron Chance. An attempted murder investigation didn’t faze him. With the help of Nora Adkins, he could discover Miss Chance’s true identity in less than a week.
But to have the woman reside in his home?
Have her roaming about in a scanty nightgown?
Dine with her at a table permanently reserved for one?
For a man used to living alone, it would be pure torture.
“You’re an intelligent woman, Miss Chance,” he began, desperate to put paid to this foolish notion. “Your brother will not permit you to stay in an unmarried man’s home.”
The lady placed the pitcher on the washstand and looked at the golden-haired man sleeping on the bed. “I’m not leaving him.” Her tone was so firm and determined the devil himself would concede. “He’s here because of my dithering. He almost died because I was afraid to tell the truth.”
“You couldn’t have known this would happen.” Of all the children abandoned on London’s dangerous streets, why should she be a target? Did she hold a valuable clue in the hazy depths of her mind? “I understand why you bear the burden of guilt, but I cannot permit you to stay here.”
She met his gaze, pinning him to the spot as she stepped closer. “Are we not friends, Mr Flynn? In the short time I’veknown you, I feel like we are. I’ve confided in you, told you things I’ve never told another soul.”
Something stirred in his chest when he recalled their conversations in Miss Darrow’s yard. There’d been a moment when he thought they were the only two people in the world who spoke the same language.
“As I told you, I value my privacy. I can count my friends on one hand. You’re my client. That’s where our association must end.”
