Page 18 of My Kind of Scoundel
The fiend—dressed in black and wearing a hooded cloak—had appeared from a darkened corner of the yard. He had grabbed her from behind, plastered his gloved hand to hermouth, a metallic smell overpowering the earthy whiff of leather, and given her an ultimatum.
You’ll deliver my notes where and when I tell you.
If they fail to arrive, you’ll die.
If they arrive open, you’ll die.
If you tell anyone, you’ll die.
“Ah, now we’re getting to the crux of the problem, Miss Darrow.” Mr Chance captured her chin and insisted she look upon his handsome visage. “Your trembling lips tell me all I need to know.”
“And what is that?”
“You’re afraid of this person. You presume they’re responsible for the damage at the shop. Is that why you need the box? Is that why you came to play nursemaid during my recuperation?”
She doubted he’d appreciate the truth, but he needed to hear it.
“If we’re to learn to trust each other,” she began, “I must confess that I fled the shop fearing I was the intended target.”
The crack of pistol fire had preceded his sister’s scream. Remorse had flooded her chest like a relentless tide, yet her first thought was for her own survival.
He released her chin as if he’d scorched his fingers on a brazier. “I knew you’d not nursed me out of loyalty or guilt.”
“I sat at your bedside, made you a healing broth and cleaned your wound because I was genuinely sorry for what happened. Once I learned why you were shot, I knew it was safe for me to return home. Had you not stolen the box, I would have had time to deliver the notes, and we would not be standing here now.”
He had the decency to look ashamed. “I suppose that makes us even in this game of subterfuge.”
“Yes, if you help me as you agreed.”
He glanced at the pathetic pieces of paper, the contents as lethal as a blade. “Put the notes away and leave the box on my nightstand. We will visit Lucius Daventry and explain everything to him.” He arched a knowing brow. “Including the details you have failed to mention. You’re tired. I’ll not press you for an explanation now.”
What could Mr Daventry do?
How did one find a nameless blackguard?
“But it’s almost dawn. Do you not require sleep?”
One look at his black carved bed and the pulse in her throat thumped harder. While she had caught more than a glimpse of his chiselled chest, any woman would give their right arm to see Theodore Chance sprawled naked between the sheets.
“I plan to sleep until ten, Miss Darrow, but we must tend to a personal matter first.”
A personal matter?
Did he mean to offer another trade?
Another kiss in exchange for his assistance?
Heat crept up her neck to warm her cheeks. “In an attempt to strengthen our fragile bond, I must be honest. Nothing you could offer would persuade me to kiss you again.”
His gaze fell to the opening of her cloak, a smile forming on his villainous lips. “Having kissed you once, I know that’s a lie. Rest assured, I have no plans to share my bed with anyone, least of all a woman who cannot abide me.”
Should she admit that kissing him had been nothing short of extraordinary? Should she confess her disdain forhim did not rage as fiercely as it ought? If she meant to be true to her word, the answer was yes. But he straightened his coat and took a fortifying breath as if preparing to leave.
“If you plan to sleep until ten, why do you look like a man on a mission? Where is it you need to be, Mr Chance?”
“We have one rather large obstacle to climb if we’re to get any rest tonight. You cannot return to your shop. As Delphine no longer resides here, her room would be perfect for you.”
Live at Fortune’s Den? She supposed there was nothing to fear. Her reputation was already in tatters, and he spoke as if she were a visiting aunt, not a woman he was desperate to bed.
