She turned, head down, well-hidden in her cloak, and walked past Devin out to the middle of the street. Devin followed, still heaving breath from the fight, staring at the girl. She didn’t give him the slightest glance.
The girl froze near the man she shot and stared at the body in the puddle-soaked street.
Her voice crept out into the thick air, cracking in the lowest whisper. “The end, Papa…it is near.”
{ Chapter 2 }
Devin’s eyes narrowed as he strained to hear her.
She exhaled deeply, and Devin saw a single tear fall from her hooded face onto the street.
Realization hit Devin. This had not been a ruined robbery attempt. “Vengeance? It was vengeance?”
The girl jumped, obviously forgetting in her reverie, the man standing next to her.
“You had me—a bystander, a complete stranger, a fare—involved in a shoot-out—a lowly street fight, where I killed a man.” Devin looked in disgust at the blood-soaked metal still in his hand and threw the knife down to the street. “For what—petty vengeance?”
The absurdity of the situation hit him, and a warped chuckle took Devin over as he stepped around the bodies to face her. “And not only are you, a woman, posing as a man—but you brought me into this.”
Devin’s jaw tightened. “Who were they? Ex-lovers? Customers? Your keeper’s men? Oh, but that’s right—” he threw his arms up— “this is about your father—did he send you here? Does he owe them money? Did he steal from them? Was he a drunkard? For that would certainly give evidence to his daughter’s lack of decency.”
Her gaze shot out from under her dark hood, eyes turned to fire. “My father was an honorable man. He died saving me. I will not allow you to speak of him in such a manner.”
Her eyes challenged him, and when he made no reply, as quickly as the fire had manifested, it disappeared. She ducked her head again, hiding her face from Devin. Fire dismissed, anger hidden.
She stayed silent. No motion.
Devin waited.
Nothing.
The echo of a coach passing on the next street over reached them. Devin stared at the top of the black hood. Still, no words, no answer. Not that he particularly wanted to know what was going on.
Disgusted, he spun away and began toward the carriage. Time to grab his umbrella and be done with this mess. He didn’t plan to be caught with, and have to explain, these dead bodies.
“It was not vengeance.”
Her low whisper stopped him. Devin turned back, impatient, both not wanting and wanting to hear her speak. To hear some sort of explanation.
“No, sir, I assure you, it was not vengeance that drove me to this point.” Her voice shook, still only slightly above a whisper.
Devin could see her eyes again, and he coldly assessed her. “What then, please tell, was your grand reasoning,” his arm swept in a wide gesture over the bodies, “for the cause of this scene and the death of two men?”
Surprised that his own annoyance had blown past his usual even keel, he was fast coming to the realization he had allowed himself to be used by a stranger, this girl. He could have very well been killed, and it was just dumb luck that he was in the cab and possessed the combat skills he did.
What was her game? What if she had been alone? What if her fare had been some matronly spinster? The girl was a menace to society. To any innocent that happened into her cab.
Plus, who the hell was she?
Devin stifled a sigh in his chest. He didn’t really want to know the answers to those questions. The plans of the night—along with his clothing—were now ruined. Nothing left to salvage. And he doubted that any answers coming from this insane woman would be able to soothe his utter aggravation.
Her face had fallen to the ground once more at his outburst. She stood, arms limp at her sides, a pistol loosely gripped in each hand. Blond tendrils escaped forward from beneath the black cap she wore under the hood. Deep worry lines on her brow were exacerbated by the dark soot that covered her face. Again, no answers came.
Patience never being top on his list of virtues to hone, Devin contemplated his limited options of getting home—either have this daft woman drop him off, or walk home—for he certainly wasn’t going to tempt the fates and hire another coach.
He rolled his eyes. Trekking back to his townhouse would be it. He turned to the coach once more, only a step away when her next words stopped him dead.
“They have been trying to kill me for more than a year now.”
Resisting at first, Devin turned back toward her. She shook.
“I am sorry, sir, you are right. You do deserve an explanation for the evening’s,” she hedged, stepping in front of him and searching for the right word, “misadventure.”
The shake eased into composure, and she offered him a hopeful smile.
“Misadventure?” Devin’s eyebrow cocked in disbelief.
“Please, sir, this is by no means an easy thing for me to recite to you. I have told no one of this. Nor do I want anyone to know. You deserve the truth, only because of your unfortunate involvement, but I plead that this remains between us. No one has, or must learn of this.”
She paused, staring into his eyes as though she were weighing his soul, determining his trustworthiness. Uneasiness flickered in Devin at her assessment. Uneasiness that was immediately replaced with ire. What did he care what this girl thought of him?
She nodded to herself, decision made, and rushed on with her explanation.
“You see, these men, these four men, have been after me for a year now, because I was witness to a…terrible incident.” Her voice stuck, wilting to nothing, and hinting that whatever had happened was far more traumatic than she meant him to believe. One deep breath, and she continued on.
“They did not get a chance at the initial incident to kill me, thanks to a fortunate interruption from several passers-by. But from that moment on, I was marked to be disposed of.”
Remembering the pistols in her hands, she deposited one deep into a pocket in her cloak, and bent to re-secure the other around her calf over the dark breeches she wore.
It gave Devin a second to appraise her. Her eyes, though surrounded by dark soot to give the appearance of illness, were very candid. She was telling the truth—his instincts had never failed him when it came to liars. And her story, although remarkable, was not outside the realm of possibility—especially for a woman who drove a coach and shot a pistol.
“Obviously, they were not very adept at my disposal,” she said, voice flat. “At our country home, I encountered three attempts on my life—”
“Country home—so you are of money, then?” Devin interrupted, surprised by the nugget of information.
Her jaw shifted askew as she looked up at him, startled, and clearly disgruntled at admitting that piece of information. “Yes. Can I continue sir? This is not very easy.”
“What is your name?”
“Really, sir, that is not relevant.” She shoved several locks of hair back under her cap. “All I owe you is the reason why you became involved in my problem on this eve. Nothing more.”
Integrity. She had integrity, Devin decided, if she was intent on sharing what she felt she owed him, even if it meant a risk. But she offered very little of who she really was. And who she was had his curiosity piqued.
She cleared her throat, impatient, as she shifted her weight from one boot-clad foot to the other. “May I continue?”
He nodded her on.
“The first attempt I easily deflected—two of them tried to dispose of me as I was riding in the countryside near our estate. Shots were fired back and forth. They have terrible aim. I did get a bullet into one of them—I believe it went in an arm. The second attempt I barely escaped from. And the last attempt was a bit too close to home and my family, so I decided it was time to draw the monsters out on safer territory…”
“London—safer? Safe for whom?”
She blinked, surprised, as she shifted her weig
ht again. “Why, my family of course—really, sir, you must quit interrupting me if I am to get this all out. We have been here too long as it is.”
“I agree. Continue.”
The horse hooked to the carriage began to fidget just then, and the girl immediately walked past Devin to affectionately stroke the nose of the white speckled horse. Calm once more, it stood still.
She turned back to Devin. “So I came to London to pursue them, hired a runner to do a bit of research on the men, and discovered, among other things, hijacking and robbing hacks with wealthy fares inside was a favorite pastime of theirs.”
“So you decided to get robbed?” Devin rubbed his forehead at the idiocy. “And not by riding around in a hack but by driving one?”
“Yes, well…” She turned to stroke the horse’s nose again, “Quite simply, sir, I needed to get to them before they got to me, and this was the most efficient way of doing it.”
“Never mind the safety of your fares.”
She sent him a withering look over her shoulder. “Do not be a goose, sir—I am not in the habit of picking up fares.”
“Interesting, for that is usually what hackney drivers do.”
She turned fully and took a step toward him. “Really sir, I am not given to putting others in danger. You were an anomaly.”
“Yet, you took me as a fare and promptly dropped me in the middle of danger.”
“You can thank your overzealous coachman for that. He almost jumped on my horse, trying to get me to stop.”
Monroe. Devin winced as he pictured his driver. Always over-exuberant in effort to please. That was what he got for hiring excellent help.
“Still, you placed me straight into danger.”
“You were a fluke—and a lucky one, I must admit.” She tilted her head, acknowledging the fact. “I truly only pick up fares when someone is overly insistent on getting me to stop. Which your man was. And, by the by, he should be acknowledged for wanting to please you so.”
“I will be sure to reward him.”
“Do not be sarcastic, sir. The poor man had no notion of what was to happen. Neither did I. I was actually quite fortunate they decided to attack my hack so quickly. I have only been doing this for several weeks now.” She played with the edge of her cloak, hands restless and obviously anxious to get going. “And then tonight happened, which you participated in, so I do not need to recall that part of the story to you.”
She pulled the edge of her cap down more fully onto her brow. “So then, can I offer to take you home, sir?” A smile broke through the layer of dirt on her face that somehow managed to be charming.
Devin almost broke out laughing for the sheer bizarreness of the situation. He rubbed his eyes. What the blazes was he doing standing in the middle of this dark street listening to this woman? He should have bowed out of this long ago.
But this slip of a girl with blond tendrils escaping everywhere and wide eyes had him—he hated to admit it—intrigued. And he couldn’t quite walk away, even if it was the smart thing to do.
His anger had dissipated, only nuggets of annoyance still holding root, and he was left with a deep interest about the woman standing before him. He couldn’t explain it, but he actually wanted to know much, much more about this girl.
She looked up at him, smile still in place, waiting for an answer to her last, subject-changing, question.
“Please, sir, do not stand there looking daft. Do you need to be dropped off anywhere in particular? Oh, but first,” she said, looking over at the bodies, “we should rid the street of the, uh, vermin. I would be saddened if they frightened any children or ladies come the morning.”
She stepped past him to the nearest body. “No. It would not do to have these evil men lying dead in the street for all to see.”
Biting her lip, she gave a slight wringing of her hands, then looked up at Devin, hopeful. “Please, sir, although I do not wish to touch their bodies, I would at least like to drag them to the alley. If you would be so kind to help?”
Devin watched as she fidgeted above the body. She had started to shake again. He could only assume that seeing a dead body up close must be new to her. A pleasant surprise.
She bent over one of the men, gripping his arm, and tried to drag him toward the nearest alley. She managed to move his chest only a tick.
“Sir, please. I really could use a bit of help—I had not actually figured on this part of it and…and…” Her words trailed, and she dropped the arm. Hand clamped over her mouth, she stumbled backward as she stared at the dark blood that had seeped onto her left hand.
Devin strode to her, grabbed her slight shoulders, and steered her backward, propping her onto the wood siding of a building.
Her eyes didn’t leave her bloodied hand while Devin deposited the bodies deep into one of the alleys. A constable would come by them in the morning and no doubt chalk the bodies up to a drunkard’s fight.
He stepped back in front of the girl, noting the shaking had ceased. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, eyes closed, before words appeared. “I will be. Thank you for your assistance, once again.”
She looked up at him, for an instant, unguarded. Her eyes. The sheer intensity in her eyes made Devin falter a step backward. Through unshed tears, utter hopelessness. They cut straight through to Devin’s soul. It was only a second, and she looked back down, seemingly aware of what she had just accidently shown and ashamed by it. Devin’s gut lurched.
Instinct sent his hand under her hood to the back of her neck, deep under a thick braid, and he stroked the center indentation with his thumb. She didn’t pull away from the touch.
Seconds passed, and then, like lightning, she yanked away from him, realizing his hand on her was too intimate.
Clearing her throat, she briskly stepped by him, ducking to avoid his outstretched hand. She wiped her bloody hand the best she could on her cloak as she went to the carriage and then scampered up to her driving post.
“Please, sir, you are holding me up.” She bit her lip as she anxiously looked down at him, pulling on thick black gloves. “I have to get my horse back to the stables and get to my home before the house awakens.” She pulled her black hood around her face to cover escaping blond tendrils. “Where is your townhouse? I can drop you off on my way—it is the least I can do, after all your assistance this evening.”
Devin walked to the front of the carriage and looked up at her. “Why not just let me drive you home? It will be quicker if I drop you off.”
”No, sir, please, I really cannot allow that. I will not impose another dollop on your good will. Not after all the help you have given me tonight.”
“It was really no trouble at all.”
“We both know that is not true. But still, I must decline your generous offer.”
“What is your name?”
Eyes narrowing, she gave him an exasperated look.
Devin moved to grab the bridle of the horse, effectively stopping the girl from leaving without him. He looked up at her hard. “We will not move from this place until I have your name.”
“Please, sir. This is uncalled for.”
“Your name.”
“Fine. My name is Aggie.” Her hand wrapped tight on the leather reins. She looked like she ached to strangle him with the leather.
A heavy sigh from her didn’t deter Devin. “Aggie what?”
“Really sir, I do not have time for these games. Please give me your address, and get in the carriage before I leave you here.”
“Your full name.” Devin produced his best intimidating look. The one that sent both business associates, and chits of the ton, to cower in corners.
Her hands fidgeted on the straps as she contemplated his demand. Then her chin raised a notch. “Sir, I believe I have told you what I owe you. Please just drop the matter.”
Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath. It did little to calm the defiance in her words. “I am extremely grateful to you, but I cannot give y
ou more than I already have. This is about my family…and I…I cannot place my trust in anyone. Please do not take offense. And please, please, do not ask me to trust you.”
Her eyes glimmered. She was pleading with him. Begging. And she was being honest. He had to respect that.
Devin let go of the bridle and nodded his acceptance of the situation.
A smile, tight, but grateful, broke through as she loosened her hands on the reins. “Thank you.”
He told her where she could drop him off and climbed into the carriage. They moved through the streets at an even pace, this time with no rogue detours. As awkward as it was letting the girl drive him about town, it gave Devin minutes to contemplate the situation.
Why was she handling a problem as big as this alone? She obviously didn’t lack courage—or stupidity—but why was she doing this at all, much less alone? What did those men really want from her? And why hadn’t she just let the local constable handle the problem?
Devin stopped himself on that question. He scarcely believed her story himself, and could only guess what a constable’s reaction would be. Not too kindly or supportive, he imagined. She was probably right not to bring it to the local law. But did she not have any male relatives? Where were they to leave her alone to handle this? And how in the blazes had she made it this far by herself?
The first of the far-off morning glow filtered in through the lifting night fog as the hack slowed to a stop.
“Sir?”
Her voice floated down to him, and Devin recognized the urgency in it. He complied with her need to leave by quickly stepping out of the hack. He began toward the front of the coach to talk to her before she left, but before two steps were made, the coach was moving again.
“Thank you again, sir, for your assistance,” she said over her shoulder as she raised her arm in part thanks, part dismissal.
Devin swallowed a wry smile. Exactly expected after the night. He waited a moment until the coach turned the street corner, and then started after her.
He discreetly trailed the hack for nine blocks. Pausing alongside a townhouse a half-block back from stables, he watched as she stopped the carriage in front of them. He heard her whistle, and a young boy, maybe twelve, appeared in the street, taking the bridle of the horse.
Hold Your Breath 01 - Stone Devil Duke Page 2
