“Bless the girl!” Martina said. “You don’t want that. Stay a child until some nice safe gentleman comes along. Rafferty is no good for you, no good for any woman.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m in love with him, and I’m going to have him.”
“He won’t marry you. You’ll be a butler’s trollop. I can’t think of anything much lower than that.”
“It sounds lovely to me.”
“No!”
“And you’ll help me.”
“No!”
“Because he loves me too.”
“Rafferty doesn’t love anyone but himself,” Martina said firmly.
Georgie lifted her eyes and looked at her. “Are you so sure of that?”
For a moment, Martina said nothing, as if she were considering an impossibility and finding it possible. “I won’t argue with you, Miss Georgie. You must have a plan. What were you thinking? That you might lock him in a room and have your wicked way with him?”
Georgie made a face. “I don’t think I could do that. He needs to be the one who locks us in.”
Martina sat back. “We’ll find you a nice gentleman to marry. Like that Mr. Salton.”
“No.”
“And you want me to help?”
“Yes, please.”
Martina let out a heavy sigh. “Go to sleep, Miss Georgie, and dream safe dreams. That’s the closest you’ll get to Rafferty, and some day you’ll thank God for it. There are separate classes for a reason—the two shouldn’t mix.”
“You’re a snob, Martina.”
“Most definitely. Go to sleep now.”
“I will if you promise to help me.”
“I can’t. For your sake and for Rafferty’s. It would just lead to disaster.”
Georgie’s eyes filled with tears. “I want a disaster. I want chaos and madness and passion! Most of all, I want Rafferty! I’ll die without him.”
“People don’t die of love, Miss Georgie. Go to sleep.”
“I’ll be the first. Help me, Martina.”
“I can’t,” she said. “He’s no good for you.”
“Then I’ll do it myself.”
Billy Stiles was nowhere to be found. Rafferty had headed out into the streets of London, down by the docks where Stiles made his home, but there was no sign of him, when the midnight hours were his usual time to be about. Rafferty could scarcely go to the small fortress where Stiles lived—Dagger Fanning was out of commission, but there were any number of bully boys out to ensure Billy’s safety. He was going to have to get him alone if he was going to kill him, and there was no question about it. Billy Stiles was a threat to Georgie, and as such, couldn’t be allowed to live.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t killed before. There was the tavern brawl where someone pulled a knife, and it had been him or them. He’d survived that without a trace of guilt, and he’d survive Billy’s death as well. His organization would fall apart without him, and he was sure Billy hadn’t shared the details of the judge’s hidden cache with any of his henchmen. Billy was a man who liked to play things close to the vest, and once he was gone, there’d be no one to threaten the Mannings.
But he’d never killed a man in cold blood before—it had always been in the heat of battle. Billy was too smart to fight with Rafferty—Rafferty was half a head taller and a great deal stronger than Billy. In fact, there was always the strong possibility that Billy had ordered Rafferty’s death. Dagger Fanning hadn’t been acting on his own.
But the midnight streets of London showed no sign of him, nor of anyone else who might have wished Rafferty harm, and until he finished with that particular threat, he couldn’t abandon the feckless Mannings. Couldn’t abandon Georgie. No matter how hard staying around her was.
