Page 79 of An Extraordinary Lord

His words fell through her with an icy tremor, and not because of what might have happened to her. He’d killed one man tonight to protect her, had almost killed a second. Yet she knew he hadn’t truly been saving her at all.

He’d still been trying to save Joanna.

He loosened his hold on her and stepped back. She flashed numb as she watched him kneel down beside the dead man, his face inscrutable, his every movement carefully controlled. Emotionless. The man she’d made love to was gone; in his place was a cold and detached hunter.

“That man who attacked you tonight,” he called out to her over his shoulder. “You said he had a tattoo. Where?”

“The left side of his neck.”

He grabbed the dead man’s shirt and ripped the collar back. A key-shaped tattoo marked his skin. “Like this?”

She nodded.

“The same one as on Liggett’s uniform,” he bit out grimly.

He let go of the man’s shirt and stood. Without explanation, he crossed to the armoire, flung open the doors, and pulled out two shirts, waistcoats, breeches, and sets of braces. He kept one set of clothes for himself and tossed the second onto the bed over her ruined gown.

He nodded at them as he stepped up to the washstand in the corner. “Put those on.” He poured water into the basin and began to wash. “And hurry.”

Fresh fear rose inside her. “Why? What are you going to do?”

With water dripping down his face and turning the water in the bowl blood-red, he pinned her with a gaze of fierce resolve. It was unlike any she’d ever seen from him before, so intense that it shivered like a cold wind across her skin and slammed her heart into her throat.

“I’m ending this,” he promised. “Tonight.”

Twenty-one

When Merritt offered his hand to Madame Noir to help her out of the carriage, she glanced up at the sandstone town house, then slid him a sideways look. “Where have you brought me, Snake?”

“Somewhere interesting,” he assured her as he led her to the footpath. “Besides, you’re getting paid for your time. And quite well, too.”

Madame sniffed and turned away at that reminder that she was nothing if not mercenary.

He reached back into the carriage for Veronica, although she certainly didn’t need his help. But he wanted to hold her hand in his, if only for a few fleeting moments, to buoy him up for what was to come. He couldn’t stop the twist of worry in his gut that she was here. But she’d refused to go to the Armory where he could set guards to protect her.

She’d changed from his ill-fitting clothes into her battle outfit, complete with weapons, that they’d retrieved from the Court of Miracles. Thankfully, Filipe and his men had done nothing to stop them from collecting her belongings, including the pair of earbobs she’d slipped into her pocket when she thought Merritt wasn’t watching.

“You pulled Madame away from her business,” Veronica reminded him. “The least you can do is tell her why we’re here.”

“I will,” he conceded and escorted the two women to the front door. “When the time is right.”

He pounded the brass knocker and waited. The town house wasn’t dark. Lamplight glowed behind the closed shutters in the front windows.

They were expected.

The door opened a crack, and Clayton Elliott peered out, one hand on the door handle and the other beneath his jacket on the pistol he kept there. He silently stepped back to let them inside.

“You know Veronica,” Merritt mumbled in introduction to Clayton.

He nodded at her. “Nice to see you again, Miss Chase.”

“And this is the illustrious Madame Noir of Le Château Noir.” Merritt took Madame’s arm and led her forward. “Madame Noir, Major Clayton Elliott.”

“Madame.” Clayton sketched her a bow.

“A pleasure to meet you, Major.” Her interested gaze traveled over him. “Verymuch a pleasure.” She smiled flirtatiously and held out her hand. “And to what do I owe this pleasant meeting?”

“Merritt didn’t tell you during the carriage ride?” Clayton grinned and accepted her hand in greeting. “I’m an undersecretary with the Home Office.”