Page 4 of Tender Blackguard

“He’s likely with the silver at this time of day. I can notify him of your request.”

“Thank you.”

With a respectful nod, the footman turned and strode back down the hall.

As soon as she was alone, Lark released a heavy breath. It wasn’t nearly enough to calm the tension claiming her entire body, but it was a moment of relief, at least.

She’d done it.

Crossing to the windows, she linked her fingers tightly together as she looked out over the modest garden. The flowers were clearly overgrown, and the shrubs were badly in need of trimming, but it was lovely in its way. Past the garden were the mews, and beyond that, more walled gardens could be viewed behind an impressive row of aristocratic houses.

Houses that lined Curzon Street.

Chapter Two

Alastair Blackwell crept silently through the narrow passage. He moved by memory as there was no light to guide him. Not even a single flickering candle. The uneven stone floor had become familiar to him over these last few months, and he no longer needed to run his hand along the cold wall to find his way to the door located at the end of the corridor.

He found the latch easily and the door swung silently toward him. After passing through, he closed it firmly then secured the lock that would prevent anyone from following.

Not that anyone ever did.

Alastair was always very careful to ensure his midnight capers remained unobserved.

He made his way up an equally darkened spiral staircase then down another passage that was barely wide enough for the full breadth of his shoulders. His steps were silent as he passed by a couple small doors before reaching the one he wanted. Pausing, he listened for any movement beyond. Though he was confident the servants wouldn’t be up and about at such a late hour, he couldn’t be too careful. The secret passages he traversed with such regularity needed to remain exactly that.

After ensuring no one was present, he pressed the discreet lever which released the door. Easing it open, he ducked into the darkened library. The concealed wall panel closed silently behind him, securing itself perfectly to remain undetected.

Alastair was about to start across the room when a feeling came over him. An instant conviction. An undeniable truth.

He wasn’t alone.

He wasn’t sure how he knew it. There was no sound to alert him. No one he could see from where he stood in the darkened corner between the great fireplace and the bookshelves. Remaining in his somewhat concealed location, he scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary.

The curtains covering the cushioned window seat had been drawn back several inches. Just enough for the light of the full moon to cast a pale glow into the room. That in itself was enough to give him pause as the drapes were almost always fully closed.

But there was something else. A feeling. A presence in the silent space that did not belong.

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