Page 6 of My Dark Duke

Sebastian sat to attention, though he hesitated as he resisted against his urge to spring forth from the carriage and pounce on her. It did not take a genius to realise that surprising a woman walking alone on a darkened road was the opposite of romantic. Not only would he earn Miss Smith's ire, but he might also earn himself a black eye.

As Sebastian pondered what his next move might be, a second figure was briefly illuminated as it stole under the gaslamp's glare. A young lad, shabbily dressed, and judging by his expression, his intentions were equally as ghastly as his clothes.

A startled cry from outside soon proved Sebastian's suspicions right, and in a second he had sprung forth from the carriage, and sprinted toward Miss Smith.

"No!" he heard her cry. "My basket! You're not taking it—argh!"

Sebastian raced faster, though the way was so dark, he almost tripped over Miss Smith when he reached her. She picked herself up off the footpath, having evidently been pushed to the ground by the fiend.

Behind him, Sebastian heard the sound of footsteps running toward them, and Higgins materialised out of the gloom.

"See if you can catch whoever took Miss Smith's basket," Sebastian ordered, jerking his head in the direction the thief had run. Higgins disappeared, and Sebastian turned to Miss Smith, who had returned to a standing position without his assistance.

So much for being her knight in shining armour.

"Miss Smith..." He stepped forward, allowing concern to lace his tone. "Are you hurt? The fiend. I saw him steal upon you from my carriage, but I was too late to stop him."

"What on earth were you doing spying on me from your carriage?"

Gratitude. Awe. Perhaps a feminine whimper of thanks. Sebastian had expected at least some sort of acknowledgment from Miss Smith for his heroic endeavours to save her, but he had not anticipated this cool outrage.

"I was not spying on you," he countered, trying to temper his irritation. "I was merely parked upon the corner when I happened to see you pass by."

"Does His Grace often park on the corner of Gracechurch Street?" Miss Smith inquired, as she furiously brushed the dust from her skirts.

"Never." Sebastian could not suppress his shudder of distaste at the very idea that he often lingered in Cheapside.

"Then what," Miss Smith looked up from her skirts and cast him a withering glare, "are you doing here, if not spying upon me?"

"I was waiting for you," Sebastian retorted, hotly. "It's entirely different to spying."

"Different, but no less sinister," Miss Smith hooted, and to Sebastian's surprise, she took a step toward him, her green eyes alight with anger. "Do you think me a green-girl, Your Grace? One silly enough to think it is a coincidence that the man who offered me a position as his mistress just happened to be present tosaveme when a thief makes off with my basket, and my purse, and all that I own that is valuable?"

"When you put it like that, it does sound rather suspicious," Sebastian conceded. "Though I assure you that it is simply bad timing on my part."

"A likely story," Miss Smith laughed, though it was a hollow sound, empty of anything but derision.

"Now, hold on one minute," Sebastian bristled. He would not have her slander him so unjustly. There were plenty of other accusations she could level at him which would be quite true, but thief was not one of them.

"I did not organise this charade," he growled, meeting her stormy gaze with one of his own. "It was merely a coincidence—an unfortunate one, I'll grant you that. Yes, I came to see if you would reconsider my proposal, but I had no wish to place you in such sorry circumstances that you would be forced to accept it. I am dashedly sorry I did not apprehend that footpad, but I will compensate you for the loss of your purse, Miss Smith."

Sebastian had not realised it, but with each word he had spoken, he had moved closer and closer to Miss Smith, so that he was now inches from her. He felt the warmth radiating from her body, and he longed to pull her against him. The night was cold, bitterly so, and he saw each breath she took as they rose like a cloud from her lips. She was not unaffected by him, he was gratified to see; her bosom heaved beneath her too-thin shawl, and her lips were parted, as though in longing.

Sebastian was tempted to lower his head and steal a kiss from her rosebud mouth, but as well as being beautiful, Miss Smith also appeared to be clairvoyant, and she leveled him a frown.

"I don't need anything from you," she whispered, sounding much like she was trying to convince herself more than Sebastian.

"I fear," Sebastian drawled, stepping closer again, "we are both about to become stuck on a point of pride, Miss Smith. Pride will not allow you to accept my offer, whilst it will also not allow me to permit you to leave without accepting the compensation I offer. It comes with no caveat; I am merely a man who wishes to prevent a young woman from falling into destitution."

"I am not yet destitute, your Grace," Miss Smith argued, her cheeks staining prettily with indignation. "The thief might have made off with what little money I have, but I have just secured a position and shall be able to support myself quite adequately. I have no need for your charity. I will earn my keep with honest labour."

Sebastian glowered at her pious tone; Miss Smith did not believe that his offer of compensation was in any way magnanimous. Even he struggled to comprehend the strange urge filling him. He wanted to know Miss Smith was safe for his own peace of mind—and not for the sake of the bulge in his breeches.

It was something of a revelation that he, The Devil Duke, could be in any way altruistic. And, annoyingly, the first pure urge he had ever had toward another was being misinterpreted.

Sebastian was struck by the memory of an old fable, as he quashed down his irritation. Though he was not so much the boy who cried wolf, as he was the duke who cried chivalry. Perhaps he could not blame Miss Smith for her mistrust, when he had offered her a position as his mistress, just that very morning.

"Now, see here," Sebastian growled, desperate to explain himself. Though what it was she was supposed to see was never to be revealed, for another voice cut across him before he could finish.

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