To Seduce an Earl (16 page)

“Very.”

“But if…if these men sleep with so many women, how does it make them different from…” She flushed.

“Me? They pay. I get paid. That’s the difference.”

“Doesn’t seem like much of a difference.”

He paused, there on the footpath and snapped his head toward her as if she’d said something incredibly important. His gaze intense, he truly looked at her as if trying to uncover her deepest, darkest secret. She shifted, dropping her attention, uneasy under his scrutiny. Had she said something wrong again? The binding holding her breasts flat suddenly felt too tight.
 

“What?” She glanced up through her lashes and dared him to respond when she could take his bold stare no longer.

With a chuckle, he shook his head and look away. “Where are they? Where’s the carriage?”

Reluctantly, Grace pulled her attention away from Alex’s handsome face and studied the street. Only two coaches rested across the lane, both privately owned. Panic flared in her gut. “It’s not here. It’s gone. The carriage, it’s gone.”

The night air and her nerves sent chills over her skin. She spun around, peering further down the lane. Certainly they wouldn’t leave her, yet the missing carriage said they had. What would she do? She didn’t even have enough coins to make it home.

“What a gentleman you’re fiancé is, a man who would abandon a woman in the slums.”

She wanted to argue, but couldn’t. What was Rodrick thinking? Damn the earl. And damn Alex! If he hadn’t introduced her to a life of excitement and adventure, she wouldn’t be in this position. She’d been having second thoughts about the earl lately, and she knew why…all because of a dark haired man with blue eyes. An impossible man. A man who one moment seemed to like her, the next despise.

“Tonight can’t get any worse,” she muttered.

“Hello, Mates,” someone growled from behind them.

They spun around as one.

A man slipped from the shadows, the knife in hand flashing under the dull lamp light.

Alex looked at her in exasperation. “You had to say it, didn’t you?”

********

“You cannot seriously be thinking to blame me,” Grace stated, sounding rather offended.

Alex sighed and pushed her behind his back. Lord, this evening was growing more bizarre with every moment. He curled his fingers, attempting to ease the tremble of his hand. But his heart… damn, but his heart wouldn’t stop its frantic beat. Too much surprise in one night.
 

“Alex?” Grace whispered.

Alex shook off his unease. “What can I do for you, kind sir.”

“Ye can give me yer money.” The man’s eyes flickered from Alex to his surroundings.

A street rat. Well, James had certainly taught him the tricks of a rat. But damn, if he wished he’d left Grace with her Rodrick. Without a coach, they’d run into more than one cad looking for a coin. If Wavers didn’t find him first. Where had her bastard of a fiancé gone? Some man. He sure as hell wouldn’t let a stranger take his girl away and he sure as hell wouldn’t leave her to her own fate. Bastard. Pure and simple.
 

“I see,” Alex replied, keeping his voice calm. “Well, sorry, Mate, but I haven’t got but a few coins, nothing worth your trouble.”

The man shoved his knife forward in a jerky, unpracticed manner. “Even a pence is worth the trouble. And I don’t believe ye. No wealthy gent, at a gaming hell, would have no coins.”

“Your mistake is assuming that I’m a gentleman.”

The whore leaning against the wall chuckled at the jest. At least someone found him amusing. The man looked anything but amused. He cleared his throat in a nervous way while looking Alex up and down carefully. Alex’s fine clothing bespoke of money, but the man had no idea that money wasn’t his.
 
        

“He isn’t a gentleman, I’ll vouch for that,” Grace said, peeking over his shoulder.

He threw her an exasperated glance. “Would you please refrain from interfering?”

She shrugged and dropped back down, hidden behind the protective barrier of his back.

“Now, where were we?”

“Ye were jist about tae give me yer money.” But the man’s tone had lost that hard edge. He was doubting whether he should continue. Alex was confident, and confidence was half the battle in a fight like this.

“No, I was just about to beat you to a bloody pulp.” Alex shrugged his jacket from his shoulders and handed the coat to Grace. She took the garment reluctantly, watching him as if he’d gone mad. Obviously she didn’t believe in his abilities as a man. He’d have to prove to her that he was, indeed, a man. Much more so than that dandy Rodrick.

The rat before him shifted in unease, watching him warily. Taking his time, Alex rolled his sleeves to his elbows. Feign confidence. Drag out the situation. He knew all of the tricks, and they were working. A dark form appeared at the end of the footpath. He didn’t need to look directly to know it was Wavers, lurking in the shadows, watching, waiting. Annoyance fought with something he didn’t want to identify…something that felt suspiciously like relief. At the end of the fight, Wavers would escort him back inside. Hopefully Ophelia would be in a forgiving mood. Grace would return home in her hack. Everything would be as it should.

“Come on, then,” the man whined, shifting. “It’s bloody cold out here.”

His rags provided little warmth and the cold made people desperate. Alex almost felt sorry for him, almost. “All in good time, my friend.”

“Alex, what are you doing?” Grace whispered, obviously doubting his sanity.
 

“Trust me.”

She lifted a brow. “Trust you? You want me to trust you?” She sounded quite incredulous, which amused him for some reason.

“Yes, we’re quite good at loyalty, you know, we whores.”

She flinched at the word. Apparently, she could think of him as a whore, but he couldn’t say the word? He shook his head and turned back toward his opponent. “Well, shall we?”

“Uh… all right.” The man shifted the knife from hand to hand. Slowly they circled each other, two animals after a bone…that bone being a few pence. How ridiculous.

They were matched in height. The man was thin, but Alex knew better than to underestimate him. He’d be a sinewy fellow, used to fighting for what he needed.

Grace sighed and took out a small watch from her pocket. “Will this take long?”

“Not if you cease your prattle.”

That got another chuckle from the whore watching them with glee.

Grace gasped, as if offended. “Well, really.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently.

Amused, he almost let the man get the first swipe. His arm lunged forward, the knife gleaming wickedly in the dim light. Alex jumped back. Grace gasped, scrambling out of the way. Finally, the woman was taking their situation seriously. Was she worried about him? Or was she merely worried about her escort home?

The man thrust his arm forward again. Alex spun around, coming back to swing his fist wide. His knuckles connected with the man’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. Alex had only a moment to catch his breath.

The rat had regained his balance. “Yer good,” he muttered, rubbing his jaw with his free hand. “But I’m better.”

“That has yet to be seen,
Mate
,” Alex sneered.

The man growled low in his throat, his black eyes luminous pools of hatred. Alex silently cursed himself for taunting. He should have known better. Just as the man swung forward, Grace darted toward the alley. Alex spun away, turning to look for the blasted woman.
 

She was rummaging through the garbage. What was she doing? From the corner of his eyes, a blur of movement sent his hackles raising. Too late. He jerked his head toward the rat. A sharp sting ripped across his forearm.

“Shite.” Alex stumbled back, caught off guard. The cut wasn’t deep. It stung too bloody much to be deep. If it was deep, it would be numb. “Now you’ve made me angry.”

The rat chuckled, his yellow teeth gleaming. He was arrogantly sure he would win, that would be his mistake. The whore pushed away from the wall, knowing the fight was getting good, she wasn’t going to miss a thing. Or she was waiting for Alex to fall so she could rush forward and claim his valuables.

Alex’s fingers curled, his gaze narrowing on the smirking rat.

“Come on,” the man laughed wickedly.

Alex lowered, ready to launch himself when Grace suddenly appeared behind the man. She was dragging what looked to be a long piece of wood across the footpath. Her hat was askew, her cheeks flushed and hair had come loose, hanging in long, feminine waves around her face. Sensing his attention, she looked up and gave him a brilliant smile.

Alex frowned. What the hell was she doing?

The rat lifted his hands, a come hither expression on his face. “Come on then, haven’t got all night.”

Grace lifted the board and with a grunt, swung. The man didn’t see it coming. The whack vibrated through the night air. With the force, Grace stumbled back, dropping the board to the ground. The whore cringed. The rat’s eyes grew wide, before rolling back in his head.

Slowly, he slumped to the ground.

Chapter 9

Grace stumbled back as blood roared to her ears, drowning out any sound but the harsh beat of her heart. Had she truly just killed a man? “He’s not…dead…is he?”

But Alex was merely staring at her with a stunned look upon his handsome face. “Are you insane?”

The rush of fear was instantly replaced with annoyance. She huffed, resisting the urge to stomp her foot. “No, and I don’t take kindly to you calling me mad! Now, I asked a simple question, is he dead?”

“Lawd,” the whore whispered, dropping to her knees and quickly going through the man’s clothing, looking for whatever she could find. Grace thought it rather disrespectful to steal from a dead man, but managed to keep her thoughts to herself.
 

“No,” Alex snapped. “He’s not dead.”

Relief made her legs weak. She’d certainly never killed a man and didn’t have any desire to start. She was already staining her soul by visiting not only a whorehouse, but a gaming hell. She wasn’t sure God would forgive murder. “You’re positive?”

A street urchin raced forward. Grace sucked in a surprised gasp and stumbled back into Alex’s hard body. The boy grabbed the knife from the unconscious man, then darted back into the darkness, gone as quickly as he’d arrived. Who else lurked out there in the shadows? Alex picked up his jacket from where she’d dropped it and shook the material free of dust. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he was attempting to regain control of his temper. Well, really, did he expect her to merely stand passively by?

“Alex,” she started, intending to explain.
 

“Grace.” Alex turned toward her, his jaw clenched. His features were fierce in the low light of the street lamps, his cheekbones sharp, his eyes dark. Underneath that anger, was the same look that Rodrick had worn when she’d insisted on escorting him to the Gaming Hell…disbelief.
 

Flirting had worked with Rodrick…. She pasted an innocent smile upon her face and batted her lashes. “Yes?”

With a low growl, he stopped close, so close that over the scent of refuse and smoke, she could smell
him
, that wonderful manly scent of him. “You can’t just—”

A shrill whistle pierced the air. Alex stiffened. Grace spun around, searching the darkness for the culprit. Shadows, human forms, darted across the street, disappearing into the night. Fear peppered the very air.
 

“The constable,” she whispered. She jerked her gaze to him. “I can’t be seen, I’ll be ruined.”

He didn’t move, merely stared at her as indecision crossed his features. What was wrong with the man? Didn’t he understand? She needed to leave…now! She released a frustrated sigh and latched tightly to his hand. “Alex, I understand if you can’t escort me home, but I need to go.”

Still he said nothing.

Despite the chill air, a fine sheen of sweat gathered between her shoulder blades. “I’m sorry.” She could wait no longer. Reluctantly, she released his hand and turned to leave.

“Wait!”

There was a desperation to that word that gave her pause. Grace glanced back. Alex was facing the prostitute in the gaudy dress, who was stumbling to her feet in her haste to escape.

“You, there. Where do you live?”

The whore froze, her brows snapping together, suspicion lacing her painted features. “What’s it to ye?”

“Here.” He tossed her a couple coins. She eagerly caught them in midair. “If you have a room, let us use it for a brief while. You take the night off, find a nice, warm pub and have a bit to eat.”

The whistle blew again, followed by footsteps thundering toward them. Shadows morphing from darkness. Grace trembled with unease. She could feel Alex’s impatience like a nagging gnat. He darted a glance back. Grace followed his gaze. That tall, broad-shouldered man who always seemed to lurk nearby Alex was heading toward them like a bull looking for a mate.