Her heart thumped as she felt her way to the door. What had she done? Every bit of the daring bravery she had felt earlier in the evening had dissipated into embarrassment. She ought to be grateful he hadn’t found her here. She couldn’t imagine trying to explain herself out of falling asleep on his bed. And he’d likely think her the most improper woman he’d ever met if he wandered back here at such a late hour and discovered her.
If she left now, he’d never know. She could wait in the parlor for him instead. Or perhaps he was having supper right now. If she arrived at his table, it would be rude if he didn’t ask her to join him.
Tilly took a moment to smooth down her dress and her hair, and then she pressed her ear to the door. The only voices she heard were far away, likely from the parlor or the dining room. There was no movement outside the door.
Slowly, she cracked the door open and glanced down the hallway. It was blessedly empty.
Quiet as a child stealing a cookie, she slipped out the door and closed it so that it barely made a click.
“Tilly?” A voice she hadn’t heard in years but would recognize anywhere called her name.
It was the one person she didn’t want to run into—not yet, anyhow.
She yanked her hand away from the doorknob, but it was too late. She looked up to find her brother striding down the hallway toward her.
“Jamie!” She tried to sound excited to see him. And shewashappy to see him, but he also held the power to end all of her hopes and dreams.
Trying to put distance between herself and the door she’d just emerged from, she smiled and walked quickly to meet him.
It had only been a couple of years, but Jamie somehow looked the same and yet older at the same time. The lamplight from a table in the hallway illuminated a face that looked more serious than she remembered, a gleaming badge peeking out from under the edge of his coat, and neatly trimmed hair beneath a battered hat. He wrapped his arms around her, and this time she gave a real smile.
“It’ssogood to see you,” she said. “I’ve missed you.”
He held her out at arm’s length, his grin moving into a look of concern. “Why are you here? Did something happen at home?”
“Everyone is just fine. Emily sends her love.” Tilly glanced over Jamie’s shoulder to see Miss Darby hurrying down the hallway. Her heart sunk. This was precisely what she didn’t want to happen.
Jamie’s eyebrows knitted together. “Then why are you—”
“Pardon me, Marshal.” Miss Darby was slightly out of breath as she arrived beside them. She looked from Jamie to Tilly. “Miss Wright, this is the gentlemen’s hallway. You can’t be here.”
Jamie’s brow furrowed deeper as his eyes traced Tilly’s face.
All sense flitted from her mind. Why hadn’t she thought of some excuse before she walked out that door? “It’s . . . I apologize, I didn’t know.”
But shedidknow, and Miss Darby knew that, because she was the one who had told Tilly when Mr. Hannan had brought her here and paid for her room. No ladies were to come down this hallway, and no gentlemen were to go upstairs. It was a hard and fast rule, and it kept the Darbys’ establishment safe and trustworthy.
Miss Darby frowned at her, and Tilly wondered if she might be tossed out. Where would she go then?
And would it even matter? Considering the look Jamie was giving her now, it would be a miracle if she weren’t on a train home that he’d conjured from thin air just for her tonight.
“Why are you here?” he asked her then, more urgently.
“I . . .” Not a single excuse came to mind. It was as if her brain had taken leave of her body.
He brushed past her then, striding quickly toward Mr. Hannan’s door. “This room,” he said, stopping in front of it and pointing at the door. “Is this yours?”
“Of course not,” Miss Darby replied in an insulted voice. “Miss Wright is staying upstairs with the other ladies.”
Tilly opened her mouth, thinking that maybe if she explained that she only wanted to pay a visit, that would make this spiraling disaster resolve itself.
But her brother spoke before she could utter a syllable. “I saw you emerge from this door.” Without giving her a second to respond, he shifted his gaze to Miss Darby. “Who’s renting this room?”
Miss Darby glanced at the number on the door. “Number five. That’s Mr. Hannan.”
A flicker of disbelief crossed Jamie’s face. He looked her up and down, his gaze pausing on her cheek and his face contortingfrom confusion to fury. Tilly lifted a hand and rested it against her skin, wondering what in the world he saw there.
“Hannan.” He spat out the name as if he were speaking of a rodent. “Liam Hannan?”
