‘Why do men never listen?’ she asked, pressing the blade against his neck hard enough to draw blood. Skinny Man’s eyes widened, and a tear tracked down his filthy face.
‘Please, don’t,’ he wheezed.
Hannah glanced over her shoulder. Surely the duke would be repulsed by such a brutal display of violence from a woman. Lord Killian stood frozen, his sword at the ready. But it wasn’t revulsion flashing in his eyes. And that shouldn’t fill her with pride. She returned her gaze to the wretched man beneath her. ‘The next time a woman issues a warning… pay attention.’ She stood and stepped away. ‘Leave. Now.’
Skinny Man scrambled to his feet, his hand pressing against the shallow wound on his throat.
Before he could run away, Hannah called out to him. ‘Wait!’
Skinny Man turned, his face twisted with fear and shame.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a coin. ‘Take this, and get some food in your belly, for goodness’ sake.’
Lord Killian and Skinny Man gave her twin stares of astonishment.Hannah shook her head in exasperation and strode over to the man, pressing the coin in his dirty hand. He flinched away from her but pocketed the shilling before scuttling into the dark night.
‘What the bloody hell just happened?’ Lord Killian looked at the four wounded men strewn about the street, moaning in various tones of distress.
‘Weren’t you paying attention?’ Hannah raised an eyebrow. ‘I defeated four idiots. You managed to take down one. If we’re counting.’ She wiped her blade over her ruined skirts. ‘We should probably follow the example of that gentleman and leave post haste.’ Hannah tucked her dagger back into her pocket. ‘Damnation. These stains will never come out.’ She sighed and shook her head before taking her own advice and quickly walking westward. The sound of boots striking pavement informed her Lord Killian was following close behind.
He caught up to her and gripped her arm, turning her to face him. ‘Who the devil are you?’
Hannah was caught off guard by his scent. Bergamot, leather, and soap with the faintest hint of mint.
He leaned closer. She could see the stubble on his cheek. Would it be rough against her fingers? Shocking thought. She pushed it away and ignored the flush of heat.
‘I’m Hannah Simmons, Your Grace, or did you forget? Surely not, as I distinctly recall you saying you never forget anything.’ Hannah tried shaking free of his grip, but it only tightened. ‘I’m in a bit of a rush, sir. It’s not safe for a lady to be on these streets after dark, or so I’ve been told.’ Her bravado had been yet another mistake. Why in the blazes did she feel a need to show off in front of this man?
Lord Killian leaned even closer, the warmth of his bodyseeping through her layers of clothing. His gaze caught on the scar along her left cheek before lowering to her lips.
‘As a gentleman, I’m duty-bound to accompany you safely home, Miss Simmons.’ He stepped back and gallantly offered his arm.
Hannah froze. When presented with numerous scoundrels intent on bodily harm, she knew exactly how to react. But a gentleman offering her his arm? She was confounded.
‘I don’t think so, sir. I am far safer on my own.’ With that, she swirled and walked briskly away, not looking behind her to see if he followed.
4
‘She took down four men? Are you sure?’ Drake furrowed his blonde brows and sipped carefully at his scalding coffee.
They sat at a favourite coffee house, popular amongst Killian’s set even at such ungodly hours as nine in the morning. Sturdy wooden tables were pushed close together to allow more patronage as boys scurried back and forth with brimming cups of hot, black liquid.
Killian’s laughter held no mirth. ‘Am I sure I watched her shoot one man in the bollocks, attack another with the skill of a trained assassin, throw a dagger into a third man’s eye as easily as one might apply jam to toast, then send the fourth away with a shiny new shilling? Yes. I’m quite sure.’
Drake shook his head. His closely cropped hair was so light, it glinted silver in the sun streaming through the window to their left. The scar running diagonally across his face from temple to jaw, bisecting his eyebrow and cutting over his nose, made him look dangerous. Because he was. ‘It makes no sense.’
‘That a woman could be trained to fight as well as a man? I think it makes tremendous sense. Men never look at womenbeyond their own interests. They are beautiful decorations appreciated as periphery distractions. We assume they are harmless. Which is exactly what she wants us to believe. But she’s more dangerous than most men I know.’
Drake raised a judgmental eyebrow. ‘I know women are far from harmless, but are you seriously proposing Miss Simmons, a lady’s companion, is actually some highly trained, deadly agent?’
Killian knew it sounded preposterous. But he’d seen her skill with his own eyes. ‘I am not proposing anything. I’m stating facts. She knew the address of Sarah Bright’s family. She took down four men with a pistol and a blade. And the only time I saw her hesitate was when I offered to escort her home.’
Drake nodded his head and tapped his fingers on the table. ‘Well, then. Our way is clear.’
Killian waved over a serving boy to order another cup of coffee. ‘I don’t follow.’
‘Well, isn’t it obvious?’ Drake leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his barrel chest. ‘You must court the wicked Miss Simmons.’
All the air was sucked from the room. Killian took a large gulp of his fresh coffee and scalded a layer of skin from his tongue. ‘Pardon?’
