“You,” he snarled, pointing his cane at Nash. “You took her from me!” He started toward Nash, but Carrington stepped in front of him to block his path.
“Let him pass,” Nash said to Carrington as Nash concentrated on the man he wanted to throttle.
Carrington immediately moved, and Owen shoved a chair out of his way, knocking it over in his haste to stand in front of Nash. “You vowed not to pursue her,” Owen spat, his face turning red and his expression twisting.
“I kept my vow,” Nash said, his own fury climbing.
“She’s mine!” Owen roared, pushing Nash in the chest. “And if I cannot have her, I’ll ensure you don’t, either.”
The threat snapped the last thread of control Nash possessed. He reared back and hit Owen in the jaw, shutting him up and sending the man staggering backward and falling onto his arse. Nash’s pulse thumped in his ears as he came to stand over Owen, who was struggling to get back up. Nash raised his foot and pressed the man down to his back. “Make no mistake, Owen. I’ll kill you if you so much as touch a hair on Lilias’s head or dare to ever kiss her again. You lied about her kissing you on the balcony. You manipulated me, and now I know it.”
His nostrils flared as he stared down at the man he’d almost helped wed the woman Nash loved. “Do not go near her,” he managed through clenched teeth. “She’s broken her betrothal to you, and made her wishes known, and if you cause her one more second of pain, I’ll cause you a lifetime of it.”
“Get off me!” Owen demanded, trying to knock Nash’s foot away but not succeeding. “She can’t love someone like you! I did everything right. I was there for her! I stayed by her side for seven years listening to her carry on about you, pine over—”
“What?” Nash interrupted, realization hitting him full force. He leaned down, grabbed a fistful of Owen’s overcoat and yanked him up. “You told me she never asked about me.” His head pounded with the understanding of just how much Owen had manipulated him through the years. A fury, like he’d never felt, pulsed through him. He’d practically carved out his heart to step aside for Owen to win Lilias. He reared his fist back to punch Owen again, but a woman’s voice rang out, freezing him mid-motion.
“You!” Asher’s wife bellowed, coming into the room in a swirl of silk. She pointed a finger at Nash. “How dare you betroth yourself to another woman and break my friend’s heart all over again! Your actions will be her undoing! She’s gone and run off with Kilgore!”
Lilias sat on the seat of Kilgore’s gig, shivering as he drove them deeper into St. Giles. As the gig bumped over the dirt road turned to slush by the earlier heavy rain and the fog grew thicker, the night took on an ominous air and she began to doubt her decision. But she could not turn back now. Kilgore was here, and she did not see how she could manage this confrontation in the daylight. Someone might see her.
Though the hour was late, people loitered on the street, and as Lilias and Kilgore passed them in the gig, she studied them. The women were selling their wares, and many of the people sitting against ramshackle buildings with blankets pulled up around them likely did not have homes. But it wasn’t all gloomy. Several corners blazed with light, and when they passed a building where music flowed out into the cool night air, Kilgore told her it was a gaming hell.
The houses grew closer to one another and smaller as they moved into the underbelly of St. Giles, and the stench of garbage made Lilias cover her mouth with her hand.
Kilgore handed her a handkerchief as he drove the gig. “For the smell.”
She nodded gratefully and took it from him, and then said, her voice muffled from the cloth, “Shall we go over the plan again?”
“Yes. Levine should not be home. He always gambles at the Cross and Crown on Saturday night until nearly dawn. But regardless, I have my pistol with me.” Kilgore lifted his right leg, and she gazed down with a mixture of relief and concern. She’d never gone on a mission as dangerous as this one was working out to be, but she would not turn back now.
“How will you get in if the door is locked?” She only now thought to ask.
Kilgore laughed, but it was a mirthless sound. “Let’s just say I learned long ago how to get out of rooms in which I had been locked.”
She nodded, repressing the urge to ask him about it. The mysteries of Kilgore would have to wait until this mission was complete.
“You will keep watch on the corner by Clyde’s Pub, which is a stone’s throw from Levine’s house, while I try to find the manuscript inside his home, assuming it is even there,” Kilgore continued. “There is always a line of vendor carts there, and you will hide behind those. If you should see Levine coming, give the bird call so I’m prepared for him but he’s not alerted to my presence. If I have not found the manuscript, I’ll confront him about it with my pistol in hand.”
She nodded, feeling fairly secure in their plan. Kilgore had told her he made it his business to know what his enemies were up to so that was why he knew Mr. Levine’s routine. And thank goodness he did!
“Let me hear the bird call again,” he demanded.
She gave it, pleased with how loud it was.
“You’re as good at it as any man I’ve ever worked with.”
“Do you care to expand?” she asked, rubbing her arms to ward off the chill that was settling into her bones.
“No,” he replied. “Some stories are best left buried.”
“What if the manuscript is not there and we cannot persuade Mr. Levine to give it to us?” Lilias asked, nibbling on her lip and staring down at the pretty new gloves that Nash had bought for her. Nash, who might be betrothed to someone else.
A dark chuckle came from Kilgore. “Lady Lilias, there are always ways to persuade men to part with things they don’t wish to. But don’t fret about that now. We’re here.”
She followed his pointed finger and felt her mouth slip open at the dark, tiny, dilapidated house that was Mr. Levine’s residence. And she had thought her life was hard! Shame rolled over her. She knew nothing of true poverty, but tomorrow, she was going to do something about that. Somehow, she was going to help those less fortunate. Mr. Levine had not started out wicked. He had come into the world pure, as all babies do, and the circumstances of his life had molded him. That was no excuse for the things he had done, of course, but it did make her wonder how the Mr. Levines of the world could turn out if they had more of a chance.
Kilgore pulled the gig up to the pub. Though the door was closed, laughter and bawdy songs flowed from the tiny establishment. Light illuminated it, and Lilias could see men in dirty work clothes and women dressed to catch the men’s attention all packed inside, tankards raised and smiles on their faces. It was not all sadness here, and that lifted Lilias’s gloom just a bit.
