Page 8 of Lady Gambit
“Quite certain.” A sob caught in her throat.
The tension in the air was palpable. He could see the strain on her face, the furrows of an inner conflict etched on her brow. More tears fell.
Hell, he didn’t know what the devil to do.
He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket. “Allow me.”
“Thank you.” She took the linen square and dried her cheeks. “Heaven knows what you must think of me.”
He thought she was a little broken inside. That this was the most genuine display of emotion he had ever witnessed. “It’s clear you’re in a difficult predicament.”
She stepped closer. The crackle of an invisible force charged the air. An obscure connection that made no logical sense. “Have you ever had a recurring dream? One so vivid you can recall it with absolute clarity?”
He used to daydream, invent the perfect life, the perfect parents. He used to imagine he was like the other boys at school. But he came to learn a valuable lesson. The things that set him apart were the things that made him excel.
“No, but dreams are often a doorway to one’s destiny. The mind uses mysterious ways to guide us on our journey.”
She didn’t question his logic or suggest he spoke nonsense.
“Why in every dream am I compelled to follow a faceless man? What if it’s my father, and he is brokenhearted? What if, in finding him, I make a dreadful mistake and lose those I care about most?”
Pain coated her words and had her reaching for him. A mere hand on his coat sleeve to steady her balance. But then her knees buckled, and she collapsed into his arms and wept.
Sweet mercy!
He’d demand double the fee after this.
Miss Chance cried on his coat while he tried to ignore the alluring smell of lilac in her hair. The delicate scent tightened the muscles in his abdomen. It didn’t help that her breastswere squashed against his chest, that his palms were hot against her back. That he thought about kissing away her troubles and tasting those luscious lips.
The Chance brothers were dangerous men.
Their sister’s sweetness would be Dorian’s downfall.
He set his hands to her upper arms and stepped away. Hell, he was struggling to suppress the first stirrings of arousal. “We could take things at a slow pace,” he began but quickly clarified his meaning. “I could make discreet enquiries. Give you time to consider how you wish to proceed.”
The sooner he put some distance between them, the better. Even the possessive way she clutched his handkerchief had an odd effect on him.
“Yes,” she said, inhaling a calming breath. “There’s no need to tell anyone. It could be our secret. But I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.” He needed to do something to appease Daventry and earn his fee. “What say we meet here at the same time next week? Send word to Miss Darrow if you change your mind and want to cancel the appointment.”
She thought for a moment. “Very well.”
“I’ll need a lead to follow. A name, address, a prominent memory.”
This was not how he usually conducted business. When taking a case, he demanded a detailed list of facts, a timeline of events. He asked sensible questions and remained impartial. He did not attend secret rendezvous with beautiful women or embrace them as if they were destined to be lovers.
She blinked tears from her long lashes. “I have no memory of my life before the night I met my brothers. But you might try speaking to a patient in Bethlem Royal Hospital. On a recent visit, a woman called to me through the bars. She seemed to think my name was Sofia.”
What the devil was Miss Chance doing at Bethlem?
“Do you know this woman’s name?”
“No. But she was in the last cell at the end of the gallery, opposite the day room. Her hair was white and lank, and her hands were shackled. I saw the irons as she gripped the bars.”
There seemed little point questioning a madwoman, but he’d earned a reputation for being thorough, and after a visit to Bethlem, one always counted their blessings.
“When we meet again, you must tell me your story from the beginning.” He prayed she didn’t appear in the same fetching gown. “It might save time if you record anything you remember.”
