Her hand flew up to her throat. “Who…is it?”
“I am looking for Miss Littleton.”
The stranger’s voice was too confident, and Nash silently cursed. Maxey swung her head toward him, pleading with wide eyes.
He nodded. “I am here. Do not worry,” he whispered. Strength appeared in her eyes and gave him hope that she could handle the situation.
“I’m Miss Littleton,” she called back, her voice much stronger now.
“May I speak with you?”
“Who are you?”
“I am a friend of Mr. Ignatius Burke.”
“Then you’ll forgive me if I don’t let you in. It’s very late, and I’m not properly chaperoned.”
“Where is your companion? I saw her come home with you.”
She glanced at Nash again. His breath caught in his throat. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
Maxey pulled her shoulders back straighter and lifted her chin. “She has taken to her room with a headache and is asleep, so please return tomorrow, and we shall speak in the light of day.”
Nash grinned. He had to commend her for her quick wit.
Hostile stillness lasted for only a few moments. “Please, Miss Littleton,” the voice started again. “I have come a long way to talk to you. It is most important. At least open the door so I may speak with you face to face. I need not enter.”
She looked at Nash again. He released a soft growl as he massaged his temple. He didn’t want her to allow the man inside. But Nash didn’t want the stranger to become suspicious, either. There was no other way. Maxey must open the door.
“Do as he wishes, but don’t let him inside,” Nash whispered. “Turn down the lamp. I will go around front and grab him from behind.”
Turning down the lamp, she shook her head, but he ignored her protest. He couldn’t stand to see her wide eyes begging in that manner. His twisting heart couldn’t take it. After giving her a wink, he turned and hurried toward the back door.
“I can speak to you for a moment,” she called out as she slowly unlocked the door.
Quietly, Nash opened the back door and crept outside. The moon hung high in the sky, lighting his way around the house perfectly. Shadows danced everywhere as the wind rustled the trees.
Swift and sure, he took cautious steps, trying his best not to make any noise. The voices had disappeared, and he hoped Maxey could handle the stranger without problems. If that man laid one finger on her, Nash would be tempted to snap the intruder’s neck with his bare hands.
Once he turned the corner of the cottage, the stranger’s voice rang through the night air. Nash stopped and flattened himself against the wall. The small, pudgy stranger doffed his hat, and his bald head shone in the moonlight. Within a few hours, the sun would peek over the horizon and turn the man’s head a pinkish color.
“I am sorry to upset you, Miss Littleton, but it was most important I see you now.”
“You still have not told me your name.”
“My deepest apologies. My name is Mr. Eduardo Gleason. I work for Mr. Burke, Ignatius’s uncle.”
She nodded. “I have never met those men, so what is of such great importance that you must disturb a lady at this late hour?”
Nash felt relieved. Maxey held her own with the stranger. He knew firsthand how stubborn she could be even through her fear.
“I have reason to believe that Ignatius is the opera singer, and I know you were at the party for the opera tonight.”
She cocked her brow. “It seems you know more than I do, Mr. Gleason. Although my companion and I were at the party, I never met anyone by the name of Ignatius Burke. So it seems your visit here was all for naught.”
He nodded. “I understand, Miss Littleton. However, my search has led me to believe that Ignatius goes by the name Nash.”
She huffed. “Suffice to say, your search led you to the wrong man.”
