“You have no say in this. I am the one dictating terms.”
His voice was gruff and deep in her ear. Could she turn—
“I have a pistol pointed at your back, my lady. If I have to kill you, I will and then go after another member of your family.”
“You would not get away with killing me in here.”
“Do you wish to test that theory?”
She shook her head.
“We will meet at the Duck and Goose again at the same time, three nights from now.”
She waited for him to continue, but he said nothing. When she turned, no one was there, only paper pushed through the divider between the two booths. Taking it, Samantha opened her reticule and put it inside.
Rising, she then left.
“Sorry. Excuse me,” she said after walking into someone. A hand steadied her. Looking into the eyes, she quickly dropped hers, mumbled an apology, and fled.
Dear Lord, that was Mr. Deville, Lord Raine’s brother. Had he realized it was her? Reaching the door in seconds, she pulled it open and escaped into the night. Picking up her skirts, Samantha ran. Shooting a look over her shoulder, she saw a man silhouetted in the doorway.
Was it him? Please don’t let him have recognized her. The hood of her cloak had been pulled forward, so surely not. Making it to the end of the street, she looked for the hackney.
“Cad!” It was not here. He’d taken her money and left.
Searching up and down the street, she could not see another. She thought the direction that would take her home was right. Or was it left?
“I can do this.”
All I have to do is find another hackney to take me home. She started along the street. Reaching the end, Samantha continued in what she hoped was the direction of the Raven townhouse. In truth, she rarely walked about London without company and never for long stretches and especially not at night. She felt the fear take hold. It tightened her muscles and made her breathing choppy.
“I must do this,” she whispered.
A few carriages rolled past her, but none were hackneys, just carriages carrying people home after evening entertainments. It wasn’t cold, and her hood was raised so no one could see her, but still, she was no fool and knew there were people who came out at night to steal and prey on those who were foolish enough to walk the streets at such an hour.
“I can do this,” Samantha whispered again.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been walking, but when streetlamps began to light her path, and the houses got better she felt hope. Samantha was passing a row of townhouses behind an iron railing when a hackney cab pulled to a halt several feet in front of her. The door opened, and out climbed a man.
Samantha wanted that hackney.
“Good evening to you, sir,” the driver said as the man paid him.
She waited in the shadows for the man to walk away and prayed the hackney did not leave. When Samantha had judged he’d walked far enough, she hurried to speak to the driver. “Are you for hire?” she said softly.
“I am.” The driver looked down at her. “I don’t want any funny business.”
“What funny business do you refer to, sir?”
“I know about you ladies of the night.”
“I beg your pardon, but I am not a lady of the night. I wish only to secure your services to drive me home.”
“You there!” The man who had left the hackney called out the words. “Halt.”
Dear Lord, that sounded like Warwick’s voice! Her eyes shot to the left and there he was, walking back toward her. As he passed a streetlamp, she saw the fierce expression on his face.He could not find her!
Terrified of exposure and the consequences that would rain down upon her, Samantha took all the money she had left from her reticule and shoved it in the driver’s hand.
