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She responded with the quickest of smiles and quickened her pace. Anyone watching would just assume it was Lady Demeter doing her usual vigorous walk, but the feeling of him watching her prickled over her shoulders and made her stomach heavy. She didn’t glance back to see if he really did watch her.
She wasn’t certain she wanted to know.
Once she rounded the corner, she let her shoulders relax and slowed her pace. Asking him about where he’d come from had been a mistake, of that she was certain, but it did confirm that he’d lived there. It was a thread ofsomething—far more than they’d had previously.
Now all she needed to do was—
A hand curled around her arm in a painful grip and tugged her hard into the shadows of an alleyway. Before she could scream, a sweaty palm closed over her mouth.
***
Hammond’s wan pallor sent Blake immediately to his feet and striding to the front door before the butler could utter a word. His gut had been twisting the entire afternoon and he’d put it down to the talk with his mother. He felt as though someone had raked him over a washboard and hung him out to dry.
But it seemed the day was not finished with him yet.
He stalled briefly when he spotted Demeter, taking in the tear upon the sleeve of her gown, the grime on her cream gloves, and the redness around her eyes.
“What the hell happened?” he demanded and she jolted.
Cursing under his breath, he forced himself to steady his expression, clasp her hand and draw her gently through to the drawing room.
“Forgive my language,” he said, urging her to sit on the sofa while feverishly motioning for Hammond to bring something to drink. Hopefully, the butler would get the message and bring something strong for them both.
She plucked a loose button on her glove over and over and her fingers trembled. Blake sank slowly next to her, fighting his urge to make more demands of her. It took all his willpower not to bunch his fists and question who he needed to kill.
“Sweeting?” he asked softly.
Her mouth worked to form the words and he waited while little syllables escaped. He took her hand, looping her fingers between his. “Take your time,” he encouraged.
Demeter twisted slightly to angle herself toward him. “I-I spoke to Michael.”
Ice ran through his veins. He gripped her hand tighter. “What did he do?” he asked, his voice gruffer than intended.
She shook her head. “It w-wasn’t him.”
“Wait.” He touched her chin, raising it so he could view the marks upon her neck. “Demeter...”
“I was on the way here because I wanted to tell you...” She closed her eyes briefly. “I had news but then this man grabbed me and pinned me against a wall. He squeezed my neck. H-hard.”
Any number of curses ran through his mind and how he maintained a cool demeanor he did not know. The only thing preventing him from storming out of the house with a pistol in hand was Demeter’s puffy eyes and trembling limbs.
“What happened?” he forced himself to ask.
Her gaze struck his. “He said ‘tell your man to pay up.’”
Blake struggled to form his next words. He raked his mind. Had he been so careless that he’d wound up in debt and not realized? Were his affairs not in order? Had his accountant defrauded him? He’d been so distracted by Demeter it was a possibility. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d looked at his investments.
If he’d done something to bring this upon Demeter, he’d never forgive himself.
“Demeter...” he started.
“He thought your cousin and I were courting.”
“He said as much?”
She bit down upon her lip. “Do not be angry, Blake.”
“It’s hard not to be. I might have to kill this man.”
