“The hell you are.” Grasping her shoulders he set her back away from him to study her more closely. Biding her time until she could say ‘I told you so’, Ava held perfectly still while his gaze traveled from the top of her head to her bare toes peeking out beneath the ripped hem of her dress. His gaze started its ascent, paused at her waist, jerked back down to her feet. “You’re bleeding.”
She glanced down as well and saw the cloth she’d used to bind the wound was already soaked through with blood, which probably explained the tiny black dots that were beginning to dance in front of her eyes. The initial agony of the injury had been replaced by a dull, throbbing pain that was slowly working its way up her entire leg. Without proper care it wouldn’t be long before infection set in, and the logical part of her mind knew that amputation wasn’t far off after that.
“I cut my foot on a piece of glass.”
The stranger expelled his breath in an angry hiss. “Why didn’t you say you were seriously injured?”
“Of course I am,” she retorted. “Did ye think I was hiding between two crates of rotten vegetables for my health? I can’t hardly walk, ye bloody fool!”
His mouth formed a grim line. “Let me see it.”
“No.”
“I need to see how deep the cut—”
“No.” Pushing away from him, she staggered back a step, arms wind milling to catch her balance as she hopped on one foot. “I can take care of it myself.”
“Because you’ve been doing such a fine job of it so far.” He crossed his arms. “It is going to get infected, you know. This alley is filthy. What were you doing running around without shoes in the first place?”
“None of your business.”
“Did you steal something?” Eyes narrowing, he took a step forward leaving Ava no choice but to flounder a step back. “Is that it? Is that why you were hiding?”
Forced back between the two crates, she dipped her hand into one and lifted out a putrid tomato. Foul-smelling juice dribbled down her knuckles as she held it up. “I’m no thief.” At least not today. The crime she’d committed had been far, far worse than stealing. Although she had no intention of telling him that. “Go away. I’ve managed to stay alive this long without your help, and I’ll continue to do so after ye are gone. So bugger off!”
Ava wasn’t usually so hostile. She could actually be quite sweet when she put her mind to it. But the events of the past two hours, not to mention the cut on her foot, were not exactly putting her in the sweetest of moods.
“I have a townhouse not far from here. You need a doctor.”
“Don’t tell me what I need.”
“Are you always this stubborn, or only in life and death situations?”
She thought about it. “Always.”
The stranger raked a hand through his dark hair, muttering something she couldn’t quite catch. Her hearing had started to go fuzzy, and shadows were creeping across her line of vision. When her stomach gave a queasy roll she dropped the tomato. It landed on the ground with a wet smack, spraying seeds and pulp over her bare feet.
“On second thought,” she gasped, “perhaps a doctor would be best.”
“I thought so.”
Arrogant man. “Do ye have a carriage nearby?”
“Yes, but why—”
“Because I’m about to faint.” And as her eyes rolled up into her head, she did exactly that.
Heath caught the girl as she swooned gracefully (more or less) into his arms. Scooping her up with ease, he cradled her against his chest and began walking with purpose towards the hackney he’d hired to wait for him in an abandoned alley two blocks over.
The driver looked up as he approached, his dark gaze sweeping over the woman in Heath’s arms with indifference. “Is that her then?” he asked before he leaned over the edge of his seat and spat a watery brown stream of chewing tobacco on to the ground.
“No,” Heath said without hesitation. “The other chit got away. I lost her in an alley.”
“What are you going to do with this one then?”
“She’s injured.” Careful to protect the girl’s head from hitting the low-slung roof of the hackney, Heath eased inside.
Like most carriages for hire this one smelled unpleasantly of sweat and cheap cologne. The velvet seats had been rubbed threadbare from years of use, and the floor was coated in a thin film of dirt. “I am going to take her back to my townhouse and have a doctor called.”
“A doctor called for the likes of her?” Twisting around in his seat, the driver squinted dubiously through the dingy window. “She’s nothin’ more than a common guttersnipe. They have ‘em a dime a dozen around here.”
“Just go.” Heath’s gaze flicked to the other side of the alley where he knew no less than half a dozen thieves were biding their time in the shadows, trying to decide if he was worth the trouble of robbing.
The driver turned back around and clucked his tongue. “Have it your way, then. Make sure you keep a close eye on her, and don’t come crying to me when she takes all of your silver.”
Since Heath had no intention of seeing the repulsive man after tonight, he doubted that would be a problem. “Go,” he repeated before he leaned forward and snapped the cloth divider closed, sending plumes of dust into the air. The girl stirred, eyelashes fluttering.
Long, black lashes Heath noted as the hackney lurched forward and moonlight spilled inside, illuminating the dim interior in a soft, silvery glow. There was still dirt smeared across one cheek, but he could see that beneath the grime her complexion was rose petals and cream. Her features were surprisingly delicate, almost elfish in design, reminding him not of a fairy queen – she was far too insolent to hold such a title – but rather a puckish sprite, sharp tongued and mischievous. Her hair was dark and straight, although he thought he detected hints of deep red. It was also a mess; infested with snarls and knots no comb would have an easy job of untangling. As for the rest of her…
He adjusted his grip so one hand gently cupped the back of her head while the other rested beneath her bent knees. She stirred again, lips parting, but no sound escaped and with a little sigh she rested her head against his chest and curled into him, far more trusting asleep than she had been awake.
It made Heath feel protective, an emotion he rarely experienced given his line of work. Brow creasing, he gently brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. She felt so small in his arms. Like a tiny songbird, all soft feathers and hollow bones. She needed to put on at least a stone. Mayhap even a stone and a half. Perhaps then the gauntness would leave her face and he wouldn’t feel as though he were holding fine spun glass instead of a flesh and blood woman. The hand supporting her neck tightened ever so slightly, his thumb dragging down across her soft skin in a gentle caress even as a scowl darkened his face.
Dangerous, he thought as he stared down upon her peaceful countenance. Dangerous that she invoked these feelings of protectiveness inside of him. Dangerous that she made him forget, even if just for a moment, who he was and what he did. Setting his jaw, Heath deliberately pulled his gaze away and pinned it to the opposite wall.
He’d have a doctor called, as he promised, and send her on her way first thing in the morning. These soft emotions swirling inside of him like bright lights bobbing in a sea of black would be forgotten, and he would go on with his life as he had been.
It would be as though tonight never happened.
The Duke of St. Giles Page 27
