A Kiss In The Dark Read Free Page B

right about one thing. The man wouldn’t be content until he had a stake in every illegal activity in the immediate vicinity. Gambling, prostitution, thievery. In addition to his own band of cutthroats and murderers, he would rule the local pickpockets with an iron hand, expecting a portion of all their takings. And if they wouldn’t hand it over willingly, he would wrest it from them by force.
    There had to be something she could do! Perhaps tip off Bow Street to the criminal’s presence in the district. But she discarded that idea almost as soon as it occurred. Flynt would simply make himself scarce until it had all blown over, as he had before, and she would only have succeeded in bringing down the law’s attention on the Rag-Tag Bunch and others like them, making their existence that much more difficult.
    She knew from firsthand experience exactly how difficult that existence was. But she had been one of the fortunate ones, and the day she’d chosen to pick the pocket of Nigel Wilks, Viscount Rotherby, had been the luckiest day of her life.
    The abrupt halting of the carriage in front of her Piccadilly town house brought Deirdre out of her musings, and as she alighted, she paid only the scantest attention to the strange coach drawn up to the curb in front of them. Her neighbors must be entertaining tonight, she surmised as she climbed the steps to the front door.
    It wasn’t until she entered the foyer that she realized how mistaken she was.
    “Oh, my lady! I thought you’d never get home!”
    Deirdre couldn’t restrain a slight smile as Mrs. Godfrey came hurrying toward her. The plump, motherly housekeeper had been with Nigel for well over thirty years, and since his death, she’d been indispensable. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Godfrey. I didn’t mean to worry you—”
    But the woman was shaking her graying head. “It isn’t that, my lady.” She glanced anxiously over her stout shoulder before lowering her voice to a whisper. “You have a visitor.”
    “A visitor?” Deirdre’s brow rose as she hung up her cloak and let her gaze travel to the grandfather clock against the far wall. “It’s after midnight.”
    “I know, my lady. I tried to tell him to come back tomorrow, but—”
    “Please don’t blame your servant, Lady Rotherby.”
    The sound of the deep voice drew Deirdre’s attention to the parlor door, where a large figure suddenly loomed.
    “She did attempt to turn me away, but I’m afraid I was most insistent.” The speaker stepped forward into the light of the foyer, and as his features were clearly illuminated, Deirdre felt all the blood in her body drain into her toes. Her mouth fell open on a gasp of shock and dismay.
    Dear Lord, it was the face that had haunted her all these years! The face of the young man whose mother’s death she and Barnaby Flynt had been responsible for.

Chapter 2

    D eirdre was paralyzed, frozen in sheer terror as she stared up at this man who could so easily bring her dreams to a bitter end with just a few harsh words of accusation.
    How had he found her after all this time?
    Panic-stricken, her glance went over his shoulder, expecting the law to converge on her at any second. When no one else appeared in the parlor doorway, however, she let down her guard the slightest bit. At least she didn’t seem to be in danger of immediate incarceration.
    “Lady Rotherby? Are you feeling all right?”
    The man’s query had Deirdre stifling a hysterical urge to laugh. Was that his morbid idea of a joke? Her whole world was about to crumble around her and he asked if she was all right?
    But as she swung her gaze back to him, she was surprised to discover that he was watching her with a frown, as if honestly puzzled by her speechless reaction. And more importantly, there wasn’t a spark of recognition anywhere in his expression.
    Was it possible …? Could she be wrong about his identity?
    But she brushed off that notion almost instantly. There was no mistaking that strong,