He went still. How could he answer that? She was the one woman he’d avoided above all others.
“I read your answer in your face, my lord. I think we are done here.”
She turned on her heels, regal even in her dowdy garb. She was walking away from him. Leaving. William felt a surge of panic. He blinked rapidly, confused by such a foreign emotion.
“Stop.” That single word, harsher and louder than he intended, stood alone in the space between them. She turned back. His heart started beating again.
“Why?” She folded her arms across her chest.
She’s hurt, he realized. The pain of betrayal shown in her green eyes. If she was hurt, she must care for him. “Because I love you.” The words, pulled from him in desperation, rang exultantly true.
Her mouth dropped open. She stared at him for a lifetime. William locked his gaze with hers, willing her to see the truth of his declaration.
“You… What did you say?” she asked, the question breathless.
Three long strides brought him to her. “I love you, Lanora. I didn’t mean to. I picked your name off the list because of your father, I admit that. Because he knows Darington, and that interested me.” With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up toward his. “I won’t lie. If I don’t marry by the marquess’s deadline, he will sign his fortune over to my sister, a girl of sixteen. I can’t let that happen. Not for my sake, but for hers, and that of so many others. I have plans for the marquess’s money. The shelter Darington is funding is only the start. I want to help people, Lanora.”
“The shelter for women?” She looked dazed. “Lethbridge took the money. I overheard him, but I couldn’t find anything. No letters from Darington, at all.” She shook her head, taking a half step back. “You’re using me to secure your father’s fortune? I suppose you wouldn’t mind having mine as well.”
“No.” He closed the distance between them again. “That isn’t the way of it.”
She kept shaking her head. “I don’t believe you. You’re a rake.”
Never had William regretted his reputation more. “I’m not. I swear. I can prove it.” He could. He would. “I correspond with Darington. He’s one of two people in this world who knows who I really am.” Revealing Cecelia was not his right. He wouldn’t put her in danger, even if it broke his heart. “I’ll bring you his letters. You’ll see what sort of man he finds me to be. Surely, you’d take his word? He’s your father’s partner.”
“No. Perhaps.” She looked up at him, features taut with despair. “I don’t know what to believe.”
“Believe this.” He covered her lips with his, needing to feel the heat they’d shared in the park, to rekindle it.
Her response was instant. Her lips pliant, soft. He crushed her to him, ignoring the pain that shot out from his side. She wrapped her arms about his neck. He raked his fingers through her hair, sent the remaining pins flying. Dark locks tumbled free. He buried a hand in their silkiness and cupped her neck, pressing her closer.
She slid her palms down his chest, then between them. A sudden push, one hand braced over the bandages she didn’t know were there. William stumbled back. Pain at the loss of her proximity and esteem mixed with the physical agony her shove woke in his side.
“No.” Her breath came in ragged gasps. “I won’t…you can’t kiss me. You don’t love me and we will never marry.” She turned and ran.
William started after her, grimacing in pain. He shook his head, unsure which hurt more, her declaration or the bullet wound.
Lanora disappeared through the door at the base of the stairs as he started down. On the street, she ran to the end. William gritted his teeth, lengthening his stride. Each step jarred the gunshot wound. Pain stabbed through him. He followed her around a corner, watched her climb into a hired hackney. It pulled away.
He retreated back around the corner and leaned against the wall. She would get home safe. The drivers in the area were respectable.
“You need help, your lordship?” a piping voice asked.
William looked down to find Dodger, face smudged with dirt. “You followed me from Chastity’s?”
“A sight better than that other bloke. Don’t worry, you lost him a ways back.” The boy crinkled his face in thought. “Is Chastity your pretty lady friend who lives in the house? You never did say her name, which isn’t good manners, your lordship.”
William closed his eyes. He hoped he hadn’t errored in trusting Dodger with the location of Cecelia’s home. “Yes, and you’re never to speak of her. To anyone. Her life is forfeit should she be found.”
“Who’d hurt a pretty lady like that? She was like an angel, all lovely like and kind. She gave me food, you know, after we was done stitching you up. You’re Lord William Greydrake, aren’t you, lordship?”
William sighed. He pushed himself off the wall and started back toward Lethbridge’s. Dodger trotted along beside him. Lethbridge’s office needed to be put right. William doubted there was any point to searching for Darington’s letters about the home for women. Lanora’s words, coupled with the remnants he recalled seeing in the grate, made finding them unlikely.
“I won’t tell anyone you’re Lefthook, lordship. Not a soul,” Dodger said as they climbed the steps back to Lethbridge’s office. “You can count on me.”
William looked about the room, eyes drawn to the strewn hairpins. Through the second door, he could see closed curtains, his candle stubs burned low. The slightly wrinkled page still lay on the desk, silently accusing. His evening had not gone as planned.
“I believe I can count on you, Dodger. Would you help me complete a few tasks here before we lock up? I don’t mean to harp on my good deed, but I daresay chasing after a lady wasn’t the best kind of wound treatment.”
