Four pairs of eyes stared at Constance as she entered Mr. Plainview’s office.
Well, three and a half pairs, at least. One of Drennan’s eyes was so swelled it was practically shut. She was angry about that fact, but she was careful not to allow her expression to change. It was important not to let your enemies know how they could further hurt you by injuring someone you cared for. And while Mr. Plainview was an acquaintance at best, she didn’t wish to see him beaten further.
Her gaze took in each of the ruffians directly, two of which were holding a listless Mr. Plainview by either arm, while the other stood on the other side of the room. But it was the beefy man standing with a cane and the crooked nose that her eyes finally lit upon.
With a smug expression, she said, “Mr. Granelli, I presume?” She gestured toward his cane. “How’s the leg doing? I daresay I should have poisoned the ball.” She shrugged. “Information I shall remember for next time.”
The shock of seeing her had worn off and his lip pulled back from his few remaining teeth in a snarl. “Fate must be smilin’ o’ me.” He patted Mr. Plainview’s shoulder. “I was just havin’ a word wit’ my friend ‘ere about yer whereabouts.” He waved a hand before him. “And ’ere ye are. I’d call tha’ divine providence, wouldn’t ye?” His knuckles turned white where they clenched his cane. “An’ I wouldn’t get so ’igh an’ mighty about shootin’ me. I owe ye for tha’.”
She smiled tolerantly. “I’m sure you would think so, but from my perspective, I see someone who tried to murder one of my good friends.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t take too kindly to that.”
He paused for a moment and then said, “Ye ain’t talkin’ about tha’ worthless Blackmore, are ye?” He snorted. “Th’ bastard should ’ave been in th’ ground long ago.” He eyed her with something akin to disgust. “But I see ’e’s got ye right where ’e wants ye.”
“If he has me anywhere, it’s only because I allow it,” Constance countered. “I’m not a stranger to London’s East End, nor it’s dealings.” Keeping her pistol firmly aimed at him, while making sure to keep his men in her peripheral vision, she asked, “The question now is, what do you want?”
“Ye haven’t figured tha’ out by now?” He glared at her with so much spite that Constance would have shivered if she hadn’t been stronger than she was. “I want ye six feet under for makin’ me lame.”
“Oh, come now,” she cajoled sweetly. “There’s no need to make such a fuss over such a slight wound considering you nearly killed Mr. Blackmore. Surely we can come to some sort of understanding.”
He spit at the floor near her feet. “Ye ’ave my terms. An’ since I know tha’ Blackmore survived, I’ll make sure ’e gets ’is due when I’m done wit’ ye.”
She shrugged. “Why wait?” She cocked the hammer back on the pistol, but before she could take the shot, the man who had been standing across the room barreled toward her. Since she knew she didn’t have time to get a good shot, she whipped out her knife and made sure the dagger met its mark.
She could feel the flesh slice open, the warmth of his blood spewing onto her hand as she shoved the tip into his exposed neck. With a grunt, he raised his arm, but she’d already withdrawn the weapon as he stumbled back into the bookcase and fell to the floor—where he stilled.
“Ye bitch!” Granelli shouted. “Ye’ll pay for tha’!”
Constance faced Granelli as he reached for a pistol and aimed it directly at her. She dove out of the line of fire just as the ball pierced the bookcase and splintered the wood.
She hadn’t yet made it back to her feet when a strong arm was around her neck and squeezing. Her air supply was fading, and Constance knew she had to act quickly if she didn’t wish to pass out. She whipped her dagger around and aimed the blade backward. She was rewarded with a howl of pain as the blade found its mark in the middle of Granelli’s ribs.
However, her victory was short-lived, as he released her only long enough to deliver a strong blow to the jaw that whipped her head to the side. Temporarily dazed, Constance was attempting to fight off the stars that blotted her vision when suddenly, there was a deep growl, one that sent tremors up her spine as a shuffle began to ensue. She heard the sickening crunch of flesh and bone, the cocking of a pistol, and then the thudding of heavy footsteps running—and then, all was quiet.
“Constance? Are you all right?”
A gentle hand brushed her cheek and for a moment, she was confused. She imagined that she saw Devin’s face above her, his gentle hand cradling her cheek, but what would he be doing here?
“Devin?” She blinked several times, and his face finally came into full focus. But instead of throwing herself into his arms, she anxiously looked around the room until she spied Mr. Plainview. “Drennan…” She started to crawl over to where he was slumped on the floor, propped up against the wall behind him.
Devin took her face in his, forcing her to look at him. “Easy, there. Luke is going for the doctor.”
She swallowed tightly. “Granelli?”
“That coward ran off with his two thugs, but you can be sure I gave him a few mementos to take with him before one of them took out a pistol.” He jaw clenched. “Even then, I would have risked another gunshot, as I have a personal score to settle with Granelli, but I wasn’t sure how you were.” He gently touched her cheek and she winced. His dark eyes turned even darker. “Devil take it. I should have broken his damned neck.”
Constance shook her head. “I’m glad you didn’t.” She forced a smile, even though it hurt to do so. “I’m not sure I could have dealt with your arrogance should I had to take care of you a second time.”
Finally, he grinned, his dark eyes losing some of their malice. “You know you loved every minute of it.”
There was a brief pause, and then Constance admitted, “Yes. I actually did.”
It wasn’t the declaration of adoration that Devin might have hoped for, but he knew it was a lot for her to even admit that much of her feelings. He stood and offered her a hand. When she joined him, wavering slightly on her feet, he steadied her with an arm wrapped around her waist.
She tested her jaw. “Goodness, who would have thought such an imbecile could actually throw a punch?” Suddenly, she stiffened. “Oh, my God. I nearly forgot about Brutus.” She clutched Devin’s arm in alarm. “The man downstairs… he said that he was here somewhere.”
Devin cupped her cheek. “You stay here. I’ll go look for him.”
He was glad when she didn’t dispute the order but gave in to the command.
