A Kiss In The Dark (4 page)

As they entered the small, tastefully decorated parlor, he returned his attention to the lady in question. She wasn’t at all what he’d expected, he mused. Instead of the hard-eyed, jaded female he’d envisioned, he’d been confronted by a woman whose striking beauty had stunned him. Tall and slender, with an air of quiet refinement, she possessed bright, emerald green eyes and rich auburn hair restrained in a tidy coronet, though several spiraling curls tumbled free to cling provocatively to the sides of her neck.

He watched as she crossed the room and seated herself on the edge of a velvet-cushioned love seat, the muslin material of her jewel-green gown barely hinting at the curves that lay beneath. Feeling an unwelcome jolt of lust, he mentally pushed it away with firm determination. He
had
to focus on Emily, and he couldn’t afford to let himself be distracted by any unanticipated stirrings of attraction.

With a regal inclination of her head, she indicated that he was to take the chair opposite her. As he moved forward to do so, however, he noticed by the light of a nearby lamp that she was observing him rather warily.

Come to think of it, her behavior had been odd from the beginning, he realized as he lowered himself into the chair. Almost as if she expected him to leap on her at any second. He knew he was a bit large of frame, but surely that gave her no call to eye him as if he were some sort of ogre.

Deirdre, meanwhile, was praying her guest wouldn’t notice the slight trembling of her hands as she crossed them demurely in her lap. She struggled to keep any sign of her anxiety from showing on her face. “Now, what can I do for you, Lord …?”

“Ellington.”

She couldn’t restrain her start of surprise. She’d heard of the Earl of Ellington. The
ton
had been buzzing for months about his recent return to take over the title after the late earl’s death in a carriage accident. But she had never associated the name with the gallant young knight who’d raced so bravely to defend his mother all those years ago.

“To be truthful, I’m not certain there is anything you
can
do for me,” he was saying, leaning forward in his chair. “But I’m desperate, and someone suggested you might be of help.”

Deirdre tilted her head in a considering pose. Though his tone was chilly and his manner stilted, she could detect no hidden anger or animosity. As impossible as it was to believe, she was beginning to think his presence here truly might be a coincidence, that he didn’t know who she was. But until she knew for certain, she had to tread carefully. “Oh? In what way?”

“My sister has … run away.”

“Your sister?”

“Yes.” The earl reached up to run a hand through his thick, ebony hair, disordering the blue-black strands and causing an errant wave to tumble down across his forehead. It made him appear oddly boyish for such a big man. “I’ve only newly inherited the title, and along with that responsibility came the guardianship of my younger sister, Emily.” One corner of his mouth gave a rueful quirk. “I’m afraid my father was a bit more lax in keeping track of her activities than I’ve been, and she resents my intrusion into her life. Earlier this evening, after one of our more … voluble disagreements, she left a note and slipped out of the house.”

He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was strained. “My servants and I have combed every inch of Westminster for hours and we have yet to find her.”

For the first time, Deirdre noticed the lines of tension bracketing his mouth, the exhausted set of his features. This was no Banbury tale being spun to lead her into a trap. He was in earnest, his very real fear there to see in the depths of his eyes.

She should be relieved. Her true identity was safe. But though she did feel greatly reassured that she wasn’t about to be carted off to a cold, dank cell, her relief was tempered by her honest empathy for the earl’s plight.

“I’m sorry to hear that, my lord,” she said gently. “But I’m afraid I fail to see how I can be of service to you. Surely this is a matter for Bow Street?”

Ellington’s face darkened. “The law has been of little help to me.” Getting to his feet once more, he began to pace in front of his chair, and Deirdre found herself distracted by the play of muscles in those powerful shoulders, the ripple and bunch of strong thighs beneath his buff-colored breeches. “The officer I spoke to rather condescendingly insinuated that I was overreacting, that Emily is most likely hiding at a friend’s home and will be back in the morning, none the worse for her ordeal.”

“Are you so certain he’s wrong?”

“They don’t know Emily. She has few friends her own age, and I’ve already questioned the ones she does have. They’ve denied any knowledge of her whereabouts, and I tend to believe them. Emily would never be so predictable.”

“Perhaps a relative …?”

The earl snorted. “The only close relative we have left is our aunt, the Marchioness of Overton. Emily knows I don’t get along with her, and though my sister might be tempted to take refuge with the woman out of pure spite, the marchioness is not in residence right now. She and her husband departed just this morning for a weeklong stay in the country.”

Deirdre was at a loss. She was fast running out of suggestions and still had no idea why the man had sought her out in the first place. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand—”

“We think she’s in Tothill Fields.”

“Ex-excuse me?”

The earl stopped pacing and turned to face her, his expression bleak. “When I arrived home from Bow Street, my butler was waiting with the news that one of the footmen found Emily’s portmanteau. It was lying empty and discarded in an alleyway at the edge of the rookery.”

Deirdre’s heart flew into her mouth. Dear God! If that was true, if the earl’s sister was wandering lost and alone in the Fields, it was only a matter of time before something dreadful happened.

“Of course, I tore down there straight away,” Ellington continued grimly, “but I’ve discovered the residents can be rather close-mouthed and uncooperative when it comes to being questioned by someone of my … background.”

Deirdre could well imagine how the inhabitants of Tothill would have reacted to being confronted by an angry aristocrat demanding answers as to the whereabouts of his sister. They would have closed ranks and put up a wall of silence, their distrust of the upper classes banding them together against a common enemy.

“And you need my help,” she drew out slowly.

The earl nodded and sank back into his seat. “I’ve been informed that you know the area, that these people trust you and might be more inclined to respond to you.”

He had a point, Deirdre conceded. Over the past year, she’d managed to win the confidence of the denizens of the Fields. They had accepted her as one of their own, and most would never hesitate to help her in any way possible. But could she afford to lend the earl her aid?

She studied him from under lowered lashes. Despite the rigidity of his features, his eyes were silently imploring, and part of her longed to reach up and smooth away the lines of strain that marred his forehead. She had no doubt that whatever their differences, the man cared about his sister, and the mere thought of that poor girl surrounded by some of the most notorious criminals in the city filled her with alarm.

But she couldn’t risk it, she concluded sadly. The more time she spent in the earl’s company, the more likely he would eventually recognize her, and the children of the London streets needed her too much for her to be taken from them now.

“I’m sorry, Lord Ellington, but there’s nothing I can do for you.”

“If it’s incentive you need, I’m prepared to pay you quite handsomely.”

“I can assure you, I don’t want your money. I have enough of my own.”

The earl’s mouth drew into a grim line, and his eyes began to glitter with a dangerous light. “Yes. And it never fails to astonish me what lengths some people will go to in order to acquire a fortune.”

There could be no doubt as to his insinuation. The verbal blow hit Deirdre like a slap to the face, and she braced herself against the sudden pain. She was aware of what society thought of her, of course, but to know this man believed it truly stung.

“Please go, my lord,” she said with quiet dignity, raising her chin.

For a long moment, he didn’t move, merely sat staring at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Then, standing, he moved to the door in a few long, furious strides before looking back at her over his shoulder one last time.

“And to think I was beginning to consider that they might be wrong about you,” he said in an angry growl.

He slammed out of the room, leaving Deirdre staring after him with wide, anguished eyes.

T
he moon was high overhead, its pale light spilling across the cobblestones and casting a murky glow over the ramshackle buildings that lined both sides of the street. From the open doorway of a nearby tavern, boisterous laughter tumbled out into the night. It mixed with the rattle of a passing coal cart and the rather off-key singing of a trio of intoxicated young bucks as they made their unsteady way along the sidewalk.

As they passed close by the entrance to the narrow alley, leaning on each other for support, Lady Emily Knight pulled her cloak more tightly about her and ducked further back into the shadows, her heart beating a wild tattoo in her chest until they rounded the corner and were out of sight.

How did she always manage to get herself into these situations? she wondered in desperation.

When she’d first slipped out of the town house earlier in the evening, she’d been carried along on a wave of anger, furious with her brother for his interference in her life and his refusal to see that she was capable of taking care of herself. She’d been doing it for eight years, after all. She didn’t need someone telling her what to do or how to do it, especially a governess. But explaining that to Tristan had been of no use. Somewhere along the way, the brother she’d once adored had turned into a cold, hard-eyed stranger.

It was only after she’d gone several blocks and some of her temper had started to cool that Emily had realized she hadn’t the slightest idea as to her destination. None of her simpering, so-called “friends” could be counted on to keep her whereabouts a secret, and the only close relative she had in town was Aunt Rue. The dour marchioness was the last person she’d turn to for help.

So, where could she possibly go?

It had seemed her choices were few, and after mentally debating with herself, she’d decided to head south toward the Thames. She’d been certain that once she reached the docks, she could manage to sneak aboard one of the barges bound upriver for Oxford-shire. From there, it would be easy to make her way on foot to Knighthaven. Perhaps by the time Tristan finally figured out where she was, he’d have a bit more appreciation for her resourcefulness.

After a while, however, she’d noticed that her surroundings had become more and more seedy-looking, and it had occurred to her that she’d been walking for quite some time without arriving at the wharf. As darkness had fallen, doubts had begun to assail her, and her fear and nervousness grew. No one she’d passed had appeared to be the sort to offer directions to a gently bred young lady. In fact, several of the men had seemed to leer at her in a way that made an unpleasant chill crawl up her spine.

But the last straw had come when she’d stopped to get her bearings. Setting her portmanteau on the sidewalk next to her, she’d glanced away for only a moment. By the time she’d turned back around, it was gone. She couldn’t believe it! All of her worldly possessions had been in that bag, including the one thing she truly treasured: a gold locket that had once belonged to her mother.

It had been then that the seriousness of her circumstances had finally hit her. She was lost and it was all Tristan’s fault!

If only he would have stayed away
, Emily thought now, reaching up to dash at the tears that blurred her vision. She’d been doing just fine until he’d come back. At least her father had mostly left her to her own devices. Of course, half the time he’d been too drunk to even remember she was there, but that had suited her perfectly. As long as she’d had her freedom, she’d been content. At least, that’s what she’d tried to tell herself.

At that moment, a noise from the other end of the dimly lit passage caused her to start and press her back up against the building behind her, her heart skipping a beat as she whipped her head in that direction. In the hour she’d spent hiding here in the dark, she’d been surprised by a mangy cat and a rat the size of a small dog, but this was too loud to be just another animal nosing through the refuse littering the alley. It was a distinct scuffling sound, followed by a succession of thuds.