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“He didn’t do it.” She was directly in front of him, one small palm placed on his chest, and though he knew it wasn’t so, he seemed to feel the heat of her skin burning through his clothes. “Don’t you understand? Apollo is innocent. He’s been locked away in that hellish place for four years and he will never get out. You must help him. You must—”
“No,” he said as gently as he was able, “I do not have to do anything.”
For a moment her mask fell and her emotions showed through, devastating and real: rage, hurt, and a grief so deep it rivaled his own.
Stunned, he opened his mouth to speak.
But before he could, she struck, as precisely and mercilessly as her namesake.
“You do have to save my brother,” she said, “because if you do not I will tell everyone in England that you are the Ghost of St. Giles.”
ARTEMIS HELD HER breath. She’d dared to slip a bridle over a tiger’s head and now she waited to see if he’d do her bidding or bat her aside with one powerful paw.
The Duke of Wakefield stood very still, his sable eyes slowly narrowing on her and she was reminded that, save for the king, this was possibly the most powerful man in England.
At last he spoke. “I think not.”
Her lips firmed. “You believe I won’t do it?”
“Oh, I believe that you’re quite capable of such perfidy, Miss Greaves,” he said silkily as he turned to continue his walk.
She swallowed. It had been a shared walk, but it no longer seemed like one.
Heat rose in her cheeks. “My loyalty lies with my brother.”
“I did save your life in St. Giles,” he reminded her.
She remembered that lithe grace, the deadly skill with his swords, and she remembered the final salute he’d given her before she’d mounted the carriage. She was now certain that he’d made sure to see her to safety.
None of that mattered. “He is my brother and his life is at stake. I will not feel guilt.”
He spared her a dismissive glance. “Nor do I expect you to, madam. I merely state the facts. No insult is intended. I believe you to be a worthy opponent.”
“But?”
He sighed and stopped to face her as if dealing with a particularly trying maidservant. “I think you have not bothered to ascertain what type of opponent I am. I have no intention of bowing to blackmail.”
She inhaled, reluctantly admiring. If she wasn’t fighting for Apollo she might have conceded the field to him, for this was blackmail and hardly very fair.
But then again, she was no gentleman, raised on the traditions of honor. She had been a lady—a person often deemed by men such as he to have not enough intelligence to understand complicated male concepts such as honor. And now? Now she was a woman hardened by the capriciousness of fate.
This was her life. This was where the tides of fortune had landed her. She had no time or use for honor.
Artemis raised her chin. “You don’t think I’ll tell everyone your secret?”
“I don’t think you would dare.” He looked so alone, standing here in the merciless morning sunshine. “But even if you do so, Miss Greaves, I doubt very much that anyone will believe you.”
She sucked in her breath, feeling the blow before it had been dealt, but still his voice continued, chill and uncaring.
“You are, after all, the sister of a madman and the daughter of a gentleman known for his lunatic behavior. I believe if you attempt to tell anyone my secret, you stand a very good chance of being incarcerated in Bedlam yourself.” He bowed precisely, icily, every inch the impenetrable aristocrat as he threatened her with her most nightmarish fear. Had he ever let anyone past those walls? Did he even wish for the warmth of human contact? “Good day, Miss Greaves. I trust the rest of your stay at Pelham House will be satisfactory.”
He turned and walked away from her.
Belle and Starling followed without a glance, but Percy stood a moment looking between Artemis and his master, hesitating.
“Go on,” she muttered to the dog, and with a low whine he trailed after the duke.
Bon Bon whimpered and leaned against her ankles. The morning was suddenly cold again. Artemis curled her bare toes into the loam of the woods, watching Wakefield’s arrogant back as he left her. He didn’t know her. He was just another man under all those layers of wealth and power and solitary indifference. Just another obstacle to Apollo’s freedom. There was no reason to feel as if she’d broken something very new.
