“Deerhurst?” She squinted in the darkness. “What are you doing here? You scared me near to death!”
Phaedra’s heart settled somewhat. Only a bit, for it had turned frantic for another reason—the man she loved and loathed at the same time was in her chambers.
No one would ever know that it had taken all of Phaedra’s strength to reject Deerhurst at the Stewart ball. She wanted to trust that his words were true, that he loved her and hadn’t used her in any sort of way. But she couldn’t.
She felt his presence draw close, and from the shadows, an outline of a man appeared.
“Why didn’t you scream?” he asked as he knelt before her.
“If I could have, I would have.”
A beat of silence.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, finally drawing her legs from the sheets, and rising to her feet. He rose with her.
“I had to make sure that you are all right.”
I’m not.“Why wouldn’t I be?” A sudden thought occurred to her. “Has something happened?”
Another beat of silence.
“Something has happened, hasn’t it? Do not think about keeping anything from me.” She pointed a finger at him. “Why are you hiding in the corner of my chamber like some scoundrelly thief?”
He said nothing.
“Why aren’t you speaking?”
A soft sigh echoed through the chamber. “I’m here to stand guard and to make sure you don’t encounter any unwelcome surprises.”
“You’re the only surprise here.”
He nodded, then dragged a hand over his face. “Cromby is out for blood.”
Phaedra’s heart stuttered to a stop. “What?”
“It seems that he has targeted you, which is why I’m here.”
“For what exactly? I’ve done nothing to that man.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Is this about what happened at the Morewood ball?”
“Yes, he feels spurned, and from what I can tell, he wants to ruin you.”
“That’s ridiculous. The man’s an oafish goat. I’d be surprised if he’s not spurned daily.”
“Normally, I’d agree, but this is about more than just spurning him. Apparently, there is a lot of money on the line.”
Of course.
As Phaedra understood it, Cromby was the one who found the list Warrick had lost and entered it into the book. He was one of the worst sorts of devils born into a title. Sadistic down to his rotten heart.
“Well, thank you for warning me,” Phaedra said and had to firm her wavering heart. “Now please leave.”
He didn’t budge. “Phaedra...”
“I can handle Cromby and his cronies.”
“Like you handled him the last time? This is not a game, Phaedra. He has a plan in motion as we speak.” He removed his jacket and tossed it over the chair of her writing desk.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, but she needn’t have asked. He had made his position perfectly clear.
