Page 25 of The Last Chance
“Your banter is hardly original.” Unlike the lady herself. He had never met anyone quite like her. “I’m not as shallow as most men. I don’t care what you think of my physique.”
“You have exceptional eyes,” Miss Stowe chimed. “They say black is the colour of rebellion.”
Miss Lovelace grinned. “Well done, Miss Stowe. Mr Chance does indeed carry an air of defiance. Yet you must dig deeper if you want a man to know you have noticed him.”
Aaron’s heart skipped a beat when Miss Lovelace gazed into his eyes again. He should have put an end to this nonsense yet he was too damn desperate for her praise.
She moistened her lips. “People make the mistake of thinking your eyes are black. Those people have never seen you speak about your family or witnessed a kind gesture. Then your eyes gleam like a starry night—so bright and full of promise. One must be quick to catch the spectacle before storm clouds shield them again.”
Aaron swallowed past the tightening of his throat.
Why did she see something no one else did?
“How perceptive,” he said with necessary arrogance.
“I have an advantage,” she confessed. “I’ve seen the best and the worst of you, Mr Chance. Most people are denied the privilege.”
He didn’t correct her. She had not seen him pummel his opponents, seen blood and sweat dripping down his face, orheard his feral growl when he put a man twice his size on his arse.
She had not seen him on his knees when his brother was shot, praying at Theo’s bedside, tears filling his eyes and rolling down his stubbled cheeks. She had not heard him whisper words of love and loyalty. Had never seen him without his guard raised.
But he needed to batten down the hatches and prepare for every eventuality if he was to keep her out in the future.
“Enough of this nonsense,” he said, fixing her friends with his stern gaze, reminding them he was a sinner, not a saint. Turning his head a fraction, he gave Miss Lovelace a similar warning. “Do not presume to know me. You’ll be making a foolish mistake.”
“How could I presume to know you?” she whispered. “You don’t even know yourself.” Before he could reply, she faced her friends. “I’m staying with Mr Chance at Fortune’s Den, though you’re not to mention a word of what we’ve discussed to anyone. Send a note if you discover anything of interest, and we can arrange to meet here.”
Looking a tad nervous, both ladies nodded.
Aaron wasn’t ready to leave until he had answers to his remaining questions. “Tell me about your maid soprano, Miss Stowe. I assume she is Italian. I have yet to meet a maid with the time to learn a second language.”
“Lucia came from Naples when she was ten. Her parents took ill and died during the crossing. An English lady aboard the ship took her in. Lucia speaks fluent Italian and sings like an angel.”
“Who lives in your house?” he pressed.
Miss Stowe swallowed, the pained look of a sad tale evident in her eyes. “Me and my ailing father. He is bedridden and hasn’t left the house for almost a year.”
Aaron softened his hard tone. “I’m told a guest at The Burnished Jade thought she might be Lord Howard’s newparamour. Might Lucia have met the lord? Is she permitted to leave the house at night? Are you aware of her movements during the day?”
Miss Stowe failed to suppress a chuckle. “Lucia is not Lord Howard’s paramour. I can assure you of that. We spend most of our evenings together. She barely finishes her daily tasks in time for supper.”
Still, Aaron would pay a man to watch the house. “What is your opinion of Miss Fitzpatrick’s brother?”
Miss Moorland was the first to answer. “His liver is pickled. The man spends more time sotted than sober. He plays the caring guardian well, but it’s a facade.”
“He is unkind to her when they’re at home,” Miss Lovelace added as if to remind him of his own cold manner. “Cruel is too harsh a word.”
Miss Stowe glanced around the coffeehouse before revealing a snippet of information. “She believes he’s paid someone to ruin her so he could send her to live with the nuns of St Agnes in Hertfordshire.”
“Might Lord Howard have accosted Miss Fitzpatrick, forcing her to defend herself?” Aaron asked, though felt sure the answer was no.
A man had the strength to drive a blade into someone’s back. A lady would need to be terrified, panicked, to commit such an act. That said, he’d be wise to remember there were wicked women in the world. Time spent living on the street had taught him that.
The ladies looked at each other and shrugged.
Aaron would find Fitzpatrick tonight and drag the truth from the devil’s lips if he were not bound by a curfew. He’d question his patrons but couldn’t open the club until the case was solved.
He stood. “Send word to Miss Lovelace when you have the information she requires. I would also appreciate your discretion.” Needing time alone, he glanced at Miss Lovelace. “Stayhere and talk to your friends. I’ll pay the bill and walk home. My coachman will wait outside for you. You’re to leave with no one but him.”
