He wished he’d listened when Mishra had asked him not to involve her. But he’d been too focused on the goal, too concerned with his objective. He’d believed he was enough to stand between her and any threat.
He was an arse.
He should’ve found another way.
Now, all he could do was heed the threat and stay away from her.
Phin smiled ruefully at the thought. Staying away had been so much more difficult than he’d expected. Though he had men watching her from afar—prepared to counter any threat—he always found himself here.
Settling into a discreet alcove built into the garden wall, he whistled the soft call of a night bird and a moment later, Iago emerged from the nearby shadows.
“Anything?” he whispered.
“Quiet as a church,” Iago replied. “The others just checked in about five minutes ago. Nothing from their vantages either.”
Phin nodded.
Attacking the home of a small shopkeeper was one thing. Attackingthe daughter of a duke was quite another.
He might not know who was behind the escalating threats, but he had no intention of disregarding or underestimating the lengths to which they’d go. They’d followed the necklace all the way from India, had very possibly captured Barnaby to assist in their purpose, and had boldly entered Phin’s house in the middle of the day.
There may not have been any move made against Eleanor yet. But if they ever thought to do so, they wouldn’t get far.
“I’ll take the next few hours,” Phin said. “Get some rest.”
The other man nodded before turning to silently walk away, his lanky form slipping easily into the night shadows.
Phin took up his usual spot near the gate, which he’d propped open to allow quick passage should it be required. From his position pressed against the wall he could see the entire breadth of Lindley’s house as it faced the garden. The garden itself was rather grand for being in town, but it was meticulously landscaped and left only a few areas that offered concealment to anyone who might wish to lurk in the dark.
If anyone approached the house, his men would see. If anyone tried to skulk about in the garden, Phin would know it.
Though many wouldn’t believe him capable of it, he knew well how to be patient when the task required it. As he watched the house, noting the rooms where the windows glowed with soft light, he wondered what Eleanor might be doing in that great mansion all by herself.
Was she lonely?
Did she go to bed each night thinking of how she’d fallen apart in his arms?
He did.
Did she hate him for his apparent abandonment these past days? Did she believe him a conscienceless, selfish cad?
He recalled Mishra’s words from that day in his shop.
Shewasfar too good for him. He never should have put her in the position of requiring guards—even secret ones.
As he scanned the garden, seeking anything that might suggest danger, his breath caught mid-inhale.
He thought her an apparition at first, a creation of his imagination. She wore a gown of pale lavender that nearly glowed against the much darker blues and greens of the night garden and her hair fell over her shoulder in a thick, twisting braid…as if she’d gotten halfway ready for bed then decided to take a midnight stroll. She moved silently into the night, slipping from the darkness of the house to glide through the garden under the pale light of a crescent moon.
In that poignant moment, as he saw her moving along the path, he forgot why he was there. His only purpose was her. She was a quiet, glowing flame. He, an utterly bewitched moth.
Without making any conscious decision to do so, Phin crept closer. Slipping through the open gate, he continued quietly into the garden, watching as she glided toward the fountain in the center. Made entirely of gleaming marble, the figure of a Grecian woman gently poured water from a vase into a pool below which was surrounded by a ledge large enough to sit upon.
Lowering herself to the edge of the pool, Eleanor leaned on one hand while trailing the other through the water. Her expression was pensive and subtly tense.
What was she thinking in such a soft and solitary moment?
He almost opened his mouth to ask her. It was something he wouldn’t have hesitated to do if he’d been standing next to her—if she’dknownhe was there.
