Malcolm supposed that should make him feel better, knowing she hadn’t taken up with the prick-head.
Turning in the other direction, he crossed the central garden of the Palais-Royal, nodding to the whores who called out to him, before he ducked into a shop on the Galerie de Valois, which spilled him out its backdoor toward his own small apartment. After crossing the next street, he heard a woman cry out.
To his astonishment, up ahead, he saw yetanotherMademoiselle Renault, this one with her hood fallen back. Her unmistakably glorious hair glistened in the light of the oil lamps hanging on ropes strung between many of the second story buildings by order of Monsieur de la Reynie, Paris’s first police chief. Malcolm had thought them a good idea, and now even more so.
A hulking man by his silhouette, undoubtedly Christoff, was attempting to drag her into an alley.
Malcolm was running before he realized what he intended to do.
“Leave her be,” he said in English, and then as the man released her, he added in French, “tête de noeud,”in case Christoff had any doubt who he was.
With a roar, the brute rushed at Malcolm, but his assailant’s size did him no favors, and Malcolm stepped aside to avoid the first bull-like onslaught. His glance caught Serena’s, and instead of her appearing distraught, he thought she wore an amused expression.
That distracted him long enough for Christoff to come behind him. Serena winced just before Malcolm received a blow to his lower back, probably his kidneys.
What a damnable fellow!The man was lucky Malcolm had decided not to shoot him but to handle this as a gentleman and beat him to a pulp. His many hours spent at Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Academy were put to good use as he socked the man in his stomach and then, when Christoff leaned over with the air knocked out of him, Malcolm clocked him in the chin, snapping back his ugly, florid face.
“Enough?” Malcolm asked Christoff, glancing over to see Serena leaning against the building, arms crossed, not the least bit bothered.
Christoff came back swinging, managing to catch Malcolm’s cheek but luckily not his nose, which he fancied was a good feature of his face. He didn’t like to think of it becoming crooked, even if he wasn’t going to remain a confirmed rake.
The notion of losing his good looks made Malcolm strike the brute harder, again in the stomach and then in the face. He heard the satisfying crunch of the man’s nose, followed by a spurt of blood while Christoff yowled in pain.
“If you come at me again,” Malcolm warned, “I shall draw my pistol because I’m tired of this caper.”
Then, as any good gentleman, he handed the man, still doubled over, a kerchief from his own pocket to staunch the blood.
“You’ll be sorry,” Christoff warned, but he ambled away, taking Malcolm’s kerchief with him.
“Scoundrel! I can’t stand a man who picks on women.”
Serena pushed away from the wall and approached him.
“I suppose I must thank you,” she said, reaching up and brushing her gloved hand across his cheek where it throbbed.
“You say that as if it’s a chore, as if I didn’t just save you.”
She laughed, the same light sound she’d used in the café, and it infuriated him. Even more when he realized she’d walked off with the prick-head in the first place.
“I fail to see what’s so funny.”
To his amazement, she took his arm as if they were back at the Luxembourg Palace strolling through the ballroom.
“I didn’tneedto be saved.”
“Really?” He thought about that for a moment. Maybe she wanted to go with Christoff down the alley. And thinking how she’d left Café Montansier with a man firmly on the side of the emperor, Malcolm would be a fool to trust her.
“Where have you come from and where were you going?” she asked.
He had to be more careful around her, and not let her beauty and his attraction to her make him loose-tongued.
“I was at the Palais-Royal.”No need to tell her he was watching her all night. “And I’m headed home.”
“Home?” she mused. “Is it close?”
“Yes,” he answered tightly, still annoyed at how lightly she’d taken the situation that could have ended in her lying in the alley.
They’d been walking while talking and now, he gestured to the building across the street.
