He gave a light chuckle. “My bloody armpit has more prominence than that ridiculous creature. And I am not overly concerned about my reputation becoming tarnished. I was being honest when I said my uncle is a duke. He was my mother’s brother and although our relationship has always been somewhat strained, he has offered his assistance to me should I ever call upon it. I do not plan to take him up on it, but it can be a helpful tool when it comes to bluffing.”
“It certainly caused the earl to think twice,” she concurred.
“Indeed. Besides, I have considered retiring. I have made a good enough wage where I can stop now and live quite comfortably for the rest of my days.”
She lifted a brow. “Impressive. I hope to share the same success myself.”
“You are on your way. That was a very impressive performance tonight.”
She looked away, as if uncomfortable with the praise. “It is better than appeasing every man’s desire in a brothel or toiling away at the workhouse. I am grateful for a chance to do something meaningful with my life. While I do not care for the fame, I just want enough to live in peace.”
Cordell couldn’t agree more. Peace had always been something that eluded him over the years when he’d been struggling to make ends meet. He understood her determination, because it had mirrored his own. They had more in common than she knew.
He drained the last of his ale and set down his mug, rising to his feet. “This has been an enlightening conversation, Miss Sims. Allow me to see you safely home.”
She downed the last of her drink and joined him. “I am sure if I refused you would follow me anyway.”
He lifted a brow but wisely chose to neither confirm nor deny her claim.
With a roll of her eyes, she gave a mock curtsy and said, “I am indebted to you, Mr. Steele.”
He brushed off her teasing and together they made their way to her apartments. Outside, they paused and she turned to him. “As you can see, all is well, so you are free to rest your conscience.”
Cordell couldn’t resist the urge to bend down and give her a light kiss on her soft cheek. “Sleep well, Miss Sims.”
He could hear the slight intake of her breath and as he pulled back, he noticed that her lips had parted slightly, as if anticipating a more intimate embrace. He stepped back. “Should you decide you have further need of my protection, you can find me in Soho.”
“How affluent of you to take up residence in such a notable area of London. You really do enjoy being part of the ton, don’t you, Mr. Steele?”
Rather than reply, he merely inclined his head and walked away.
Lifting her hand, Aislynn touched the side of her cheek where Mr. Steele’s lips had just been. Her skin burned, as if he’d branded her. She wondered why he had decided to show her such kindness when he didn’t owe her anything of the sort. They’d known of each other’s existence for one day, yet he was treating her with the sort of respect and admiration that one might express toward a prospective love interest.
She slowly clenched her fist and wondered if his charm was just another way of sliding his way under her skirts. He was a man, after all, and she had long understood the need to watch herself among their kind. They could be gentle one moment and turn into a snake in the grass the next.
Entering her flat, Aislynn shivered when she walked inside. The fire had died down to nothing but cold coals in the grate. It would take some time for it to come back to life, and even then, she would be going to sleep with chattering teeth.
However, that wasn’t what caused the abrupt chill that traveled down her spine as she turned around to shut the door behind her. A figure came out of the shadows and rushed toward her. With a cry of shock, Aislynn didn’t have time to reach for her knife before the assailant had one of his own held above her head. She refused to be taken down like this. She’d worked too hard for too long to get where she was and she was not going to allow her death to come in such a violent manner. She owed Geneva that much.
Fighting back as hard as she could, she kicked and punched at the masked figure, gaining a grunt or two, but it wasn’t enough. The knife was gleaming in the moonlight shining through the dirty window and it was getting closer.
Hoping that she wasn’t about to sign her own death sentence, Aislynn let her body take her to the ground. The knife clearly missed its intended mark as she kicked upward from the floor and used everything she had to bring it up in the center of the intruder’s legs.
A masculine howl of pain made him go down like a cart of bricks while he cradled his groin with both of his hands. The knife he’d been holding clattered to the wood floor but Aislynn didn’t waste time in arming herself. She crawled to her feet and bolted out the door and burst back into the street. She rushed in the direction that Mr. Steele had gone, but there was no sign of him.
She refused to look behind her as she ran down the street, thankful that the old, slushy snow didn’t cause her to lose her balance. For once, fate seemed to be with her, guiding her way.
A hackney was parked farther down the street, and she quickly jumped inside and ordered the driver to take her to Soho to see Cordell Steele before she slammed the door and secured herself in the sanctity of the carriage.
Her breath was coming in heaving pants as she finally glanced back behind her. The route was clear. No dark-clothed figure making his way after her.
She finally allowed herself to close her eyes and lean against the back of the hired conveyance. She wanted to slam her fist into the side of the door in frustration. The last thing she’d wanted to do was go to Mr. Steele when she had vowed that she could manage on her own, that she had done so for years without any intervention, but the sight of that deadly knife and the fresh memory of Geneva’s lifeless corpse backstage was causing her to rush right into his arms. And likely his bed.
She would hate herself if it came to that. If he mentioned that was the price she must pay for his protection, she would refuse and gladly accept death as an alternative. While there had been a moment in the pub when she had thought him particularly appealing, his dark coloring rather attractive, she had quickly shoved down any further consideration. If she didn’t want to destroy everything she’d struggled to build around herself, she had to stop those licentious thoughts before they could fully take root and grow.
As the carriage stopped in front of a fashionable townhouse, Aislynn muttered a curse under her breath. Not only was she forced to go to Mr. Steele for help, but her purse had fallen out of her skirts during the struggle with her would-be murderer, so he would have to pay her fare as well.
As she got out of the carriage, she reluctantly instructed the driver to wait and headed up the steps to his door. She prayed that the driver knew enough about Mr. Steele that he’d brought her to the right location, or this could make for a very interesting encounter with the person on the other side.
