Page 53 of The Secret Life of a Lady
Philippa tapped a finger to her lip. ‘So, we’re back to Lord Killian? Is solving this case the only reason you wish to stay? Sexual exploration isn’t worth a broken heart, and it damn well isn’t worth a bullet in your gut.’
Hannah paused near the little hearth of her fireplace. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. ‘I’ve never lied to you,’ she had omitted some ominous truths about the night her mother died, but she never outright lied. ‘I won’t start now. I believe there are answers for Sarah Bright’s case here. But I have other reasons for wanting to stay. You told me not to be ashamed of my desires, so I won’t be. I want to spend more time with Killian. This house party gives us a chance to be together without worrying about society seeing us and judging. Without the lords and ladies of the beau monde spreading their insidious gossip. I want this opportunity.’ It was an uncomfortable admission, especially when she was still coming to terms with it herself. Hannah’s lips quivered with nerves. But she wasn’t going to stop. Not now.
‘And you’re willing to put your safety at risk for this?’ Philippa’s voice was steady, but her fingers tapped incessantly against the floral coverlet of Hannah’s bed.
‘I put my safety at risk every time I go on the streets to investigate a case. Every time I sneak into some lord’s study to look for evidence. Every time I strap on my weapons and confront the kind of men we hunt. How is this different?’
‘Because usually the fiends we are looking for aren’t also looking for us,’ Philippa snapped.
‘I’ll be fine.’ Hannah tried to keep her voice calm, but she wasn’t sure what she would do if Philippa forced her to leave.
Philippa rose from the bed. ‘I should order you to come with me.’
Hannah’s breath froze in her lungs.
‘I won’t do it, but I very much want to.’ Philippa pursed her lips. She looked like she just sipped pickle juice.
Air filled Hannah’s chest, and she couldn’t stop the smile of relief. ‘Thank you, Philippa. I know?—’
‘Don’t thank me for letting you put yourself in danger. And don’t tell me you know anything. Yes, you can handle yourself in a fight; however, I’m less confident you can keep your heart safe from someone like Lord Killian. But if I forced your hand, you would never forgive me. So here I am, powerless.’
Hannah took a step forward, but her patroness put up a hand, halting Hannah’s momentum. The duchess let her arm fall to her side. ‘And because I hate this feeling, I would never subject you to such impotence. I won’t take away your choice. Even if you are making a terrible one.’
Hannah was too grateful to be angry. ‘I’m sorry you feel powerless, but I want you to trust me.’
‘I trust you. It’s Lord Killian and the killer intent on murdering you that I have some doubts about.’
Hannah took heart from Philippa’s small smile. ‘Will you really leave tonight?’
Philippa raised a sculpted brow, black as a raven’s wing. ‘Eager to be rid of me?’
‘No. Of course not, I just…’ Hannah’s voice trailed off.
‘With so much at risk, there’s no time to waste. Don’t fret. I’ll take my leave now, so you won’t have to find a polite way of kicking me out to make room for your dashing duke.’
‘That’s not?—’
‘Stop before you break your promise and lie to me. I won’t be gone long. Four days at most. Promise me you’ll be careful.’
‘I promise.’
Philippa pulled Hannah into an abrupt and awkward hugbefore turning and walking to the door. ‘You’d better be.’ She didn’t look back as she shut the door behind her.
Hannah wished she could reassure Philippa that nothing terrible would happen, but both women had seen enough of life to know there were no guarantees, and Hannah promised she wouldn’t lie. Bad things happened all the time, which was why it was so important she savoured the beautiful moments while they lasted. Another night with Killian lay ahead. Tomorrow’s dangers were impossible to predict, but the pleasures waiting for her on this night were a sweet promise she intended to relish while she could.
13
In Killian’s experience, there was nothing quite as dangerous as indecision. On the battlefield, hesitating was the fastest way to ensure a bloody end. Decisive action was integral to survival. Even the wrong choice was better than no choice. But as he stood outside Hannah’s door with sweaty palms, a hard cock, and a head full of questions, he couldn’t bring himself to knock.
He wanted her more desperately than any woman in his past, present, and – he dared to guess – future. But she wasn’t the kind of lady a duke married. She wasn’t a lady at all. Neither was she a night flower or wanton widow he could bed without doing irreparable damage.
The problem was Hannah. She was courageous, intelligent, brazen, and beautiful. She was curious and innocent and far more fragile than she knew. She was everything he wanted and nothing he could have.
So, he stood outside her door, agonising over a choice that should be easy.Turn around. Walk away. Leave her alone.
Killian knocked.
The door opened far enough for him to slip inside.
