“What others?” he asked.
Lydia turned away, groping for the doorknob.
Nathan took her elbow and spun her roughly toward him. “What others?” Even in the darkness he could sense her fear. Swearing at himself under his breath, he let her go. This time when he repeated his question it was done with forced calm and patience.
Lydia rubbed her elbow where Nathan had grabbed her. She could still feel the press of his fingers. “The others who show any interest in me,” she said. “When I tell them I’m not interested in marriage, they try to find a way to compromise me so I won’t have any choice. I’ve fought off more advances than General Grant and I’m not about to succumb to the dubious charms of a foreigner. How much money do you need, Mr. Hunter? Perhaps I can make a draft for you tomorrow.”
Placing his arms on either side of her shoulders, Nathan cornered her against the door. “You seem to be forgetting something, Miss Chadwick, and since it’s pertinent to this discussion, I find it necessary to point it out. As pleasurable as that little interlude in my suite was, it wasn’t initiated to compromise you. I’m not even certainIinitiated it. You could have been any whore in my bed, snoring, stuporous, and smelling of alcohol. I seem to remember you crawling all over me, and I’ll tell that to anyone you go running to. Give me some credit for getting out of that bed as soon as I realized who you were.
“As for wanting your money, put that thought away. Your money’s no good to me. I’m only interested in you, and my intentions are so honorable you’d probably find them insulting.”
His declaration left Lydia unable to speak. He called her a whore in one breath, threatened her in the next, and very nearly plighted his troth in the third.
“Good evening, Miss Chadwick,” Nathan rapped out as he pushed away from the door. He turned and started around the house toward the street.
Lydia watched him go and then twisted the doorknob to enter her home. It wouldn’t open. She tried again. Nothing. Frantically searching the pockets in her cape lining, she came up empty-handed. She pushed at the door even though she knew it was useless. Oh, God, she thought, wanting to do nothing so much as drop where she stood and cry. Instead she swallowed every vestige of her pride and ran after Nathan Hunter.
She caught him before he had gone very far. “Please,” she whispered, urging him away from the street and back toward the shadows of the mansion. “The door’s locked and I haven’t any key. Pei Ling either thought I had one or someone else locked the door after she went to bed. There’s no light in her room; she probably went to bed hours ago.”
Nathan doubted that. Lydia’s maid seemed loyal to a fault and possessed of a little more common sense than her mistress. Pei Ling was far more likely to have fallen asleep in Lydia’s room waiting for her mistress to return. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Help me get inside, of course.”
“Of course. You’re talking about breaking and entering.”
“It’smyhome.”
“It’smyneck,” he said coldly, “and your reputation.”
“My reputation will be in shreds if I can’t get back inside by morning. My father’s up at first light and Pei Ling can’t keep him away from my room forever.”
“That’s supposing she’s been successful thus far.”
Lydia tugged on the upper portion of Nathan’s sleeve. The hood of her cape fell back and the rain quickly wet her hair, making it dark and sleek on the crown of her head. “Please,” she repeated. “I have to get back inside. Won’t you help me?”
Nathan was silent for a while, turning over the choices in his mind. Finally he said, “I’ll be here at seven-thirty to take you to dinner. I expect that you’ll be ready.”
“That’s blackmail.”
He shrugged. “That’s my condition.”
Her hand dropped away from his arm. “All right,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll go with you.” When he didn’t move, she added, “You can trust me, Mr. Hunter. I know something about keeping one’s word.”
“Very well. Show me the other entrances.”
Lydia took him around the house. Every door was secured and without so much as hairpin or penknife between them, Nathan couldn’t pick a lock. All the windows on the ground floor had been closed against the rain. He tested every one and found them all to have their latches in place. Not one could be budged.
“It’s hopeless, isn’t it?” Lydia said forlornly.
“Not necessarily. Show me which windows lead to your bedroom.”
“But my room’s on the second floor.”
Nathan put his hands on her shoulders, turned her
around, and gave her a light push in the general direction they had to go. “Show me.”
Lydia’s room was at the rear of the house on the northwest corner. Nathan felt their luck changing when he heard something flapping above him and realized that the drapes had been drawn outside by the wind. That meant an open window. He showed Lydia where her drapes were slapping wetly against the side of the house, but she wasn’t encouraged. It was an incredible height to scale and there were no means of doing it that she could see.
