A Kiss In The Dark (7 page)

It was quite the conundrum. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized there was only one option. She could not in all good conscience refuse to help a child. Not and still be able to look at herself in the mirror.

She bit her lip. She’d never told anyone, not even Nigel, about what had taken place that day with Lord Ellington’s mother. Over the years, her guilt had grown and festered within her, until it had become a raw and gaping wound. Perhaps if she helped the earl, it would in some small way make up for all she’d taken from him.

Tomorrow morning, she would pay a visit to Lord Ellington and offer her services. If luck was with her, the girl would already be home, safe and sound, and Deirdre wouldn’t be required to spend more than a moment or two in the earl’s presence.

If not … well, she would deal with that when the time came.

T
he sun had just started to peep above the horizon when Deirdre presented herself at number 114 Berkeley Square early the next morning.

I must be mad!
she thought as she gazed up at the elegant façade of Lord Ellington’s town house. For most of the night, she’d wrestled with her decision to help the earl, going back and forth until she’d been certain her very sanity was being threatened. But in the end, she’d wound up right back where she’d started.

She couldn’t ignore a child in need.

And she couldn’t continue to stand here on the sidewalk like some lack-wit, either. Passersby were starting to stare at her curiously, and a maid sweeping the steps of the town house next door kept casting her suspicious glances.

Taking a deep breath, she marched up the stairs and rang the bell in a decisive movement.

After a second or two, the door was swung open by a stoop-shouldered butler with thinning silver hair and a wizened, yet kind, face.

“Can I help you, my lady?”

“Yes. I am here to see Lord Ellington.”

“I do apologize, my lady, but I’m afraid he’s not receiving visitors at the moment. If you would care to leave your card …”

Deirdre shook her head vehemently. He couldn’t turn her away! Not when it had taken all her courage to come here in the first place. “You don’t understand. This is urgent. I am Lady Rotherby, and I’m here to offer the earl my assistance.”

“
You’re
Lady Rotherby?” The servant’s eyebrows rose.

“Yes, and I—”

“It’s all right, Archer. You can let the lady in.”

The familiar voice drifted from beyond the doorway, deep and velvety, and Deirdre felt her pulse speed up in response.

“Very well, my lord. Won’t you come in, my lady?”

At the butler’s invitation, she stepped past him into the entry hall, barely noticing as he shut the door behind her and then discreetly faded away into the background. Her stomach fluttering, she took a quick visual survey of her surroundings before focusing on the man who stood at the foot of the town house’s steep staircase. Early morning sunlight streamed through the stained glass window set high above the front door, sending shards of color glinting in his wavy black hair and bathing his muscular form in a rainbow hue of light.

He spoke before she could even manage a greeting. “What are you doing here?”

So, that was the way it was going to be. She supposed she couldn’t blame him entirely, but the least he could do was hear her out.

She cleared her throat. “Have you had word of your sister, my lord?”

“Do you care, Lady Rotherby?”

“Of course I care. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

The earl stared at her for a moment, his eyes hooded and unreadable. “No, I haven’t.”

“Then I am here to help.”

He took a step closer to her, and as he drew near, Deirdre almost gasped at the lines of exhaustion carved into his handsome face, the dark circles beneath those remarkable violet eyes. Her heart gave a tug of sympathy.

“What changed your mind?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I can’t explain. Suffice it to say I realized my refusal might have been too hasty, so here I am.”

Lord Ellington crossed his arms over his broad chest and glared down at her from his impressive height, making her suddenly feel very small. “I thank you for your … benevolence, Lady Rotherby, but your services are no longer required.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said I don’t need your help.”

Deirdre blinked. It had never occurred to her that he might decline her offer. Surely this should free her from any further obligation, should soothe her troubled conscience.

But before she could breathe a sigh of relief, his next words struck horror into her soul. “I’m on my way to Bow Street right now, and this time I’m not backing down until they’ve agreed to send out every available man to scour Tothill Fields.”

“No!”

It was the earl’s turn to blink. “No?”

This was exactly what Deirdre had wanted to avoid. An influx of the law into the Fields. By the time they were through, there was no telling how many of her charges would suffer.

“Please,” she began, reaching out to lay a supplicating hand on his arm. At the contact, however, a sudden surge of heat singed her fingers and she drew back in shock. Her heart thudding, she stood staring up at him, unable to say a word.

The touch affected Tristan just as powerfully. Ever since he’d descended the stairs to be greeted by the sound of Lady Rotherby’s voice as she’d conversed with Archer, he’d been struggling against his unwanted reaction to her. It hadn’t been easy after a night spent worrying about Emily and with very little sleep, but he’d been managing adequately.

Until she touched him.

The sharp jolt of lust that shot through him had his body reacting in a predictable fashion, and he shifted his stance, praying she wouldn’t notice. Bloody hell! How could he be so attracted to a woman of her sort? A woman whose every action became instant fodder for the gossip of the
ton
? A woman who had wed a man more than twice her age and who obviously had intimate knowledge of a place like Tothill Fields?

“Please?” he prompted, hoping to distract himself from images of her slender body intimately entwined with his beneath the covers on his big four-poster bed.

The viscountess seemed at a loss. As he watched her straighten her shoulders and visibly force the words, he couldn’t help but wonder if she, too, was aware of the strong undercurrent between them.

“Please don’t do that. If you send in Bow Street, you run the risk of alienating every citizen in the district. They’ll never help you then.”

As much as he hated to admit it, he supposed she had a point. If they closed ranks against him, there was no telling how they’d react to having the law confront them. “Then what do you suggest?”

“Let me help. As you said, they trust me. I can question them much more discreetly, and I’m certain if they know anything about your sister’s whereabouts they won’t hesitate to share it with me.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

She took a step closer, her green eyes beseeching. “Please, let me try. I realize you’re angry with me for refusing you yesterday, but I’m here now and I believe I can be of great service to you if you would only allow it.”

Her nearness started Tristan’s pulse pounding in his temples, and his mouth went dry with the sudden urge to reach out and cup her cheek in his palm, to find out if that pale, smooth skin was as soft and silky as it looked. Standing this close to her, he could see the faint spray of freckles that dusted the bridge of her delicate nose like fairy dust, the sweep of her long golden lashes. She was taller than average for a woman, the top of her head just reaching his chin, and he was certain if he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, their bodies would align almost perfectly....

Damnation! He sucked in a steadying breath and closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to rein in his wayward thoughts. It would be foolish to allow himself to become any more involved with this woman than he already was. She was dangerous. But if it meant finding Emily, it was a risk he was willing to take.

“All right,” he conceded, his tone gruff. “You have until noon to produce results. But if you haven’t come up with anything by then, I’m going straight to Bow Street.”

“Noon? But that’s only—” She halted midprotest as he glared at her. “Very well. I shall return to my town house and fetch my coach and driver, then I’ll—”

“I’m coming with you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said I’m coming with you.”

Tristan almost laughed at the disgruntled expression on Lady Rotherby’s face. “But you can’t!”

“I can and I will,” he assured her, narrowing his eyes at her, daring her to disagree. “This is my sister we’re discussing.”

“I’m aware of that, Lord Ellington. But the people of Tothill wouldn’t answer your questions when you asked them directly. What makes you think they’ll be any more willing to comply with you looming over my shoulder?”

“They shall have to, because I have no intention of sitting here doing nothing while Emily is in danger.”

Tristan felt her shiver-inducing gaze trail over him in a look that was as palpable as a touch, and he once again mentally cursed her ability to arouse him with so little effort. Perhaps it was a mistake to spend any more time in this woman’s company than was necessary, but if she intended to look for his sister, he was going to be by her side every step of the way.

God help them both.

Some of his determination must have shown on his face, for she gave a resigned sigh before relenting. “All right. But you must know you can’t go looking like that.”

“Looking like what?”

“Like an aristocrat.” Her eyes suddenly lit with a hint of what he could have sworn was mischief. “But I have an idea....”

“This is utterly ridiculous!”

Back at her town house, Deirdre watched as Lord Ellington studied his reflection in the mirror in her foyer, his forehead creased in displeasure. Despite the fact that this entire situation was fraught with the potential for disaster, she couldn’t help but be amused. Dressed in clothes borrowed from her coachman, Cullen, he looked decidedly uncomfortable and ill at ease.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She tilted her head and pretended to examine him in a considering manner. “I think it suits you rather well.”

He grunted in reply, and Deirdre had to hide a smile. Cullen was by no means of small stature, but even the servant’s clothing was stretched to the limit by the earl’s powerful frame.

Turning away from the mirror, he propped his large hands on his hips, the movement of his broad shoulders straining the seams of the simple broadcloth shirt. “I still don’t understand what this is going to accomplish.”

“I’ve already told you. If you go into the rookery looking like an arrogant lord, no one is going to cooperate with us. But if you go in dressed as my servant, they won’t give you a second glance. They’ll be more likely to offer information if they don’t know who you are.”

“Your coachman doesn’t appear to be too happy about the situation. He’s been glowering at me ever since I arrived.”

At his words, Deirdre followed his line of vision to where Cullen stood in the far corner of the foyer, his brawny arms crossed over his chest and his forehead knitted in a menacing frown.

“That glower has nothing to do with the clothes,” she said. “Cullen is simply … overly protective where I’m concerned.”

Lord Ellington met the servant’s disapproving stare. “Well, my good man, you can rest assured that I have no wicked designs upon your mistress.”

Deirdre was surprised at the niggle of disappointment she felt at his remark. She’d made up her mind a long time ago that there was no room in her life for a true romantic relationship. She held far too many secrets. But from the moment she’d touched him earlier, she’d been fighting against an undeniable desire. What was it about him that so tested her long-held resolve?

When Cullen didn’t answer, the earl turned back to her, one eyebrow cocked. “Not very talkative, is he?”

As always, Deirdre felt an overwhelming sense of sadness when reminded of her coachman’s plight. “He
can’t
talk,” she said softly, keeping her voice low so Cullen wouldn’t overhear. “He has no tongue.”