she stepped outside. As she pulled the hood over her head, the door slammed behind her and she winced.
She would be hard-pressed to explain a trip outside in this weather to anyone at Aldridge House, but she couldalways speak in French until they gave up in the face of a crazy foreigner.
The wind half blew her to where the alley opened onto Chapel Street and she hesitated, looking toward Goldfern quickly to make sure there was no one there.
Then, drawing her cloak tight about her, she faced the other way and stepped out, head bent against the rain—a Little Red Riding Hood, intent on her task.
She let the darkness swallow her up.
----
J onathan swirled the last of his wine around in its glass and decided it was better to know tonight if Dervish held his behavior this morning against him or not. Rain, wind and cold notwithstanding.
The idea had bothered him all day. More than he wanted it to.
He had friends aplenty in London, but since his return from the Peninsula, very few were men he felt at ease with anymore. Dervish and Durnham were the only two he could sit with quietly, with no need for conversation, and feel comfortable.
Neither had served in the army, but now that he was in their private circle, he realized they fought the war just as fiercely from the home front.
He set the wine on his desk and stood. He would see if Dervish was at their club.
From deep within the house he heard the faint echo of aslamming door over the sound of the rain on the window and wondered who else had decided to brave the weather.
Edgars had been distracted this evening. Even Rob and Harry had been confused by his lack of usual focus and intensity, shooting Edgars strange looks while they served dinner.
Edgars had even gone up to do his valet duties with a dazed expression, but now, as Jonathan walked into the hall to get his coat from the stand, he stepped out of Jonathan’s rooms and looked down from the top of the stairs.
“I’m going to my club for a short while, Edgars. Don’t worry about waiting up.”
Ordinarily Edgars would have run down and fussed, but this evening he simply nodded and turned back to his work.
As Jonathan fought his way into his fitted coat, he wondered what was happening to his household.
Madame Levéel had turned them all topsy-turvy.
Another battering of rain against the door made him reach for his greatcoat as well, and a hat. He stepped outside and immediately turned his collar up against the rain, catching the door just before it slammed and easing it shut.
A movement immediately ahead caught his eye, and, compelled by a sudden sense of urgency, he ran down the steps and squinted through the downpour.
A small figure, swathed in a fur-trimmed cloak, bent against the wind and rain.
He started after her, a strange tension gripping his shoulders. There was no question in his mind who it was. And he had no reason to follow her—he was her employer, not her keeper.
But he couldn’t forget her strange behavior, the risks Durnham had warned him about, and her intensity this morning with Dervish.
This was the second time she had taken a walk in the dark by herself in two days, even though she was frightened by something and, even in broad daylight, was as nervous as a mouse.
And suddenly he knew he was lying to himself.
He was not following her for any reason other than that he was far too interested in her. And something about the way she had looked at him this afternoon—with such relief—when she’d heard someone walking behind her and seen it was him, disturbed him deeply.
No woman should be that afraid.
She turned right on South Audley. His long strides had brought him close enough for her to see him if she turned around, but the wind and rain masked the sounds of his footsteps.
She kept hunched against the weather, and slowed as she turned up Farm, and then stopped at the junction with John Street.
Jonathan stepped behind a large oak growing close against the wall of a house,
She would be hard-pressed to explain a trip outside in this weather to anyone at Aldridge House, but she couldalways speak in French until they gave up in the face of a crazy foreigner.
The wind half blew her to where the alley opened onto Chapel Street and she hesitated, looking toward Goldfern quickly to make sure there was no one there.
Then, drawing her cloak tight about her, she faced the other way and stepped out, head bent against the rain—a Little Red Riding Hood, intent on her task.
She let the darkness swallow her up.
----
J onathan swirled the last of his wine around in its glass and decided it was better to know tonight if Dervish held his behavior this morning against him or not. Rain, wind and cold notwithstanding.
The idea had bothered him all day. More than he wanted it to.
He had friends aplenty in London, but since his return from the Peninsula, very few were men he felt at ease with anymore. Dervish and Durnham were the only two he could sit with quietly, with no need for conversation, and feel comfortable.
Neither had served in the army, but now that he was in their private circle, he realized they fought the war just as fiercely from the home front.
He set the wine on his desk and stood. He would see if Dervish was at their club.
From deep within the house he heard the faint echo of aslamming door over the sound of the rain on the window and wondered who else had decided to brave the weather.
Edgars had been distracted this evening. Even Rob and Harry had been confused by his lack of usual focus and intensity, shooting Edgars strange looks while they served dinner.
Edgars had even gone up to do his valet duties with a dazed expression, but now, as Jonathan walked into the hall to get his coat from the stand, he stepped out of Jonathan’s rooms and looked down from the top of the stairs.
“I’m going to my club for a short while, Edgars. Don’t worry about waiting up.”
Ordinarily Edgars would have run down and fussed, but this evening he simply nodded and turned back to his work.
As Jonathan fought his way into his fitted coat, he wondered what was happening to his household.
Madame Levéel had turned them all topsy-turvy.
Another battering of rain against the door made him reach for his greatcoat as well, and a hat. He stepped outside and immediately turned his collar up against the rain, catching the door just before it slammed and easing it shut.
A movement immediately ahead caught his eye, and, compelled by a sudden sense of urgency, he ran down the steps and squinted through the downpour.
A small figure, swathed in a fur-trimmed cloak, bent against the wind and rain.
He started after her, a strange tension gripping his shoulders. There was no question in his mind who it was. And he had no reason to follow her—he was her employer, not her keeper.
But he couldn’t forget her strange behavior, the risks Durnham had warned him about, and her intensity this morning with Dervish.
This was the second time she had taken a walk in the dark by herself in two days, even though she was frightened by something and, even in broad daylight, was as nervous as a mouse.
And suddenly he knew he was lying to himself.
He was not following her for any reason other than that he was far too interested in her. And something about the way she had looked at him this afternoon—with such relief—when she’d heard someone walking behind her and seen it was him, disturbed him deeply.
No woman should be that afraid.
She turned right on South Audley. His long strides had brought him close enough for her to see him if she turned around, but the wind and rain masked the sounds of his footsteps.
She kept hunched against the weather, and slowed as she turned up Farm, and then stopped at the junction with John Street.
Jonathan stepped behind a large oak growing close against the wall of a house,
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