“Louise,” he hissed, his body already shifting to shield her. “Remember your promise.”
The darkness erupted into motion.
CHAPTER 31
“Aaron?”
Louise barely breathed his name, but Aaron nodded immediately. The courtyard remained empty, silent except for the distant drip of water on stone, yet every shadow seemed to pulse with hidden threat. The fog pressed closer, thick enough to hide an army.
They turned back toward the alley entrance together, Aaron’s hand finding hers in the darkness. His fingers wrapped around hers with reassuring strength, though she felt the tension thrumming through him like a plucked wire.
Three steps. That was all they managed.
“George Burrows!”
The voice boomed from everywhere and nowhere, echoing off wet brick. Figures materialized from the fog like demons calledfrom hell itself. Four men, maybe five, surrounded them with the practiced ease of wolves circling sheep.
Louise’s heart slammed against her ribs. The largest man stepped forward, his scarred face visible even in the murk. A knife glinted in his hand, as casual as a gentleman might hold a walking stick.
“You’re late with Wigram’s money,my lord.” The man’s gaze fixed on Aaron, taking in his height, his dark hair just visible beneath his cap. “He warned you what would happen if you tried to run.”
“I’m not—” Aaron began.
“Save your lies.” The scarred man spat on the ground. “Wigram said you might try to talk your way out. Said you were clever with words. But cleverness won’t help you now.”
They attacked without further warning.
Louise expected Aaron to draw his pistol, to threaten or negotiate. Instead, he moved like lightning, given form. His elbow connected with the nearest attacker’s throat before the man could complete his lunge. The thug dropped, clutched his neck, and gasped.
The scarred leader swung his knife in a vicious arc. Aaron caught the man’s wrist, twisted it sharply, and the blade clattered across cobblestones. In the same fluid motion, he drove his knee intothe attacker’s stomach, then brought his elbow down on the back of the man’s neck. The leader crumpled without a sound.
A third man charged from Louise’s left. She opened her mouth to warn Aaron, but he was already turning, using the attacker’s momentum against him. One moment, the man was running full tilt, and the next moment, he was airborne, slamming into the alley wall with a crack that made Louise wince.
The fourth thug had drawn a cudgel, swinging it toward Aaron’s head. Aaron ducked, and the weapon whistled through empty air. Aaron’s fist connected with the attacker’s jaw with surgical precision. The man’s eyes rolled back, and he toppled backward into a pile of crates.
The fifth man took one look at his unconscious companions and fled into the fog.
The entire fight had lasted perhaps thirty seconds.
Aaron stood in the center of the carnage, his breathing barely elevated, checking each fallen man with clinical efficiency. Louise remained frozen against the wall, her mind struggling to reconcile the elegant duke who took tea with his aunt with this warrior who moved through violence like a dancer through a waltz.
“Are you hurt?” He crossed to her in two strides, his hands running over her arms, checking for injury.
“No, I … Aaron, that was …” Words failed her entirely.
Movement caught her eye over his shoulder. A figure at the far edge of the courtyard, half hidden by fog and shadow. But she knew that shape, that way of standing with weight shifted to one foot.
“George!”
The figure jerked, then bolted.
Louise ran without a thought, tearing free from Aaron’s protective grip. Her brother’s name ripped from her throat as she plunged into the fog after the fleeing form. Behind her, Aaron cursed violently before his footsteps pounded after her.
The alley twisted left, then right, then opened into another narrow passage. George’s silhouette flickered ahead like a ghost, always just out of reach. Louise’s lungs burned with effort and the toxic fog, but she pushed harder, desperation lending her speed.
“George, stop! It’s Louise!”
He glanced back, and in that moment of recognition, he stumbled. Aaron surged past Louise like an avenging angel, launching himself at George’s legs. They went down hard, rolling across the filthy cobblestones in a tangle of limbs.
