Page 47 of Tender Blackguard

Chapter Sixteen

As the hour drew near, Alastair dressed in evening finery appropriate for dinner with a duke, he called his carriage and left the house in his usual manner.

But he did not go to Northmoor House. Instead, he had the carriage continue for only a few blocks before circling back around to drop him at the end of the mews. From there, he made his way unseen to the old stable building, where he accessed the hidden tunnel. Within less than ten minutes, he was back inside his house.

Swiftly and silently, he traversed the narrow corridor, went up the spiral stairway, until he reached the panel that would open to his bedroom.

Only then did he stop. And wait.

Despite her vow, he had no doubt his intrepid housekeeper would stray back into the night at her earliest opportunity to continue whatever investigation she believed necessary. But tonight, he’d given her another opportunity. One he suspected she wouldn’t be able to resist.

He barely heard the click of his bedroom door. It was so quiet he could have easily passed it off for nothing if he weren’t so attuned to every sound as he awaited the arrival of a former thief.

Even still, when silence followed, he questioned whether he’d mistaken the sound.

Slowing his breath, he extended his senses into the room beyond the closed panel. Though he stood in complete darkness, he closed his eyes. Listening, breathing in the dank air of the narrow passage, seeking a shift to indicate she was near.

There it was. The gentlest breath.

He considered revealing himself then, confronting her, demanding she cease her sleuthing. But instinct again urged him to patience.

He should be furious at the intrusion. He wasn’t. He’d suspected from their first meeting that there was something going on behind the woman’s gray eyes. Secrets and deception seemed as much a part of her as her staid focus and forced propriety. Now that he knew what motivated her, he couldn’t fault such loyalty, even if her means were questionable.

Weren’t his own?

If she’d ever suspected him for a moment of being involved in her friend’s disappearance, she’d surely have searched his room. And if anyone could have discovered the secret passage, he believed it was her. Which meant she’d also read his notes. And possibly his father’s ramblings.

Though he heard no movement, somehow, he knew she was coming closer. Then he detected the softest brush of fingertips along marble.

She was at the fireplace. A step away from where he stood concealed.

A gentle snick broke the breathless silence. The panel in front of him sprung open a small crack. Just enough for slim fingers to reach into the space and silently draw it open.

Alastair caught a split-second impression of her pretty features widening with surprise before he reached for her, pulled her into the passage with him, and closed the panel.

Utter darkness enclosed them.

The scent of her—flowers and amber—chased away the smell of wood and dust and shadow. Her heavy skirts brushed his boots before forming gently about his legs. One of her hands had grasped firmly to his forearm to keep her balance as he spun her into the passage and remained there still, while his hand rested in the gentle curve of her low back.

Standing sideways in the passage, there was just barely enough room for both of them. His back was pressed flush to the wall as hers likely was as well. Yet their bodies met with every breath. Hers, short and shallow in her momentary shock. His, long and deep as he contemplated his next move.

He’d fully expected her to come to his rooms while he was out, but he hadn’t exactly planned what he’d do once she did. Drawing her into the darkness had been an impulse. A dangerous one, he admitted as his body began to warm at her proximity and his senses filled with the details of her.

The way they stood—facing each other, holding on to each other—felt like an embrace. Intimate. Intentional.

Keeping his voice to a low murmur appropriate to their location, he noted darkly, “I wish I could say I’m surprised to find you here, Mrs. Evans.”

“I might say the same,” she whispered back, her voice slightly breathless despite the hint of censure in her tone. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Was she annoyed that he’d tricked her into revealing herself?

He allowed a smile, knowing she couldn’t see it. “It is my house after all. What exactly are you doing in my private rooms?”

“Looking for answers,” she replied with stubborn elusiveness.

“To what questions?” He could be stubborn as well.

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