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Chapter Three
Rose could not tear her eyes away from the scene as the mysterious stranger sprang forward with remarkable agility, his blade slicing through the air so fast that she could hear the whistle of it. The stone-thrower yelped as the blade caught him across the cheek, while his accomplice attempted to approach the stranger from behind.
She wanted to shout to him to warn him, but he did not appear to need any help. He whirled around with the elegance of a ballet dancer and feinted out of the way of the accomplice as he dove into a tackle. With no target to grasp, the accomplice fell onto his face with a hefty thud.
The stranger smiled. “I did you give a choice, gentlemen.” He ran forward and used the accomplice’s back as a springboard, sailing through the air with his foot raised. His shoe collided with the stone-thrower’s chest, sending him sprawling backward with a loud grunt of pain. But the stranger was not finished. Twisting back around with that graceful agility, he delivered an almighty kick to the accomplice, who was partway through getting back on his feet. The blow made the wretch’s spine curve backward, a spray of blood misting upward from his mouth and nose.
“Do you yield?” The stranger flipped the blade from palm to palm, spinning it around on his fingers in a series of mesmerizing tricks. Rose had never seen anything like it.
The stone-thrower did not even answer. Leaving his injured friend behind, he sprinted off down the alley and disappeared into the gloom. A few moments later, the accomplice managed to stagger to his feet. He flashed one terrified look at the stranger and backed off, swaying slightly as he stumbled away in the opposite direction, where the shadows swallowed him up.
“The money…” Rose realized that the stone-thrower had fled with it. Her heart sank as she turned to look at her savior. He grinned at the empty alleyway, his face shining with satisfaction. It was not his fault. How was he to know that those men had taken her money? Still, she could not deny the disappointment that weighed down on her aching shoulders. Her father would surely beat her for this.
“Who are you?” she said quietly. He looked like a nobleman, but his style of fighting did not seem in-keeping with gentlemanly manners.
Finally, he looked in her direction. She stifled a gasp as she caught sight of his peculiar eyes in the silvered moonlight that spilled down onto the alleyway. She could not see their exact color, but one was definitely lighter than the other.Beautiful… Absolutely beautiful.She had never seen anything like it, just as she had never seen anyone move the way that he did.
His grin disappeared, and his chin tilted up, his expression turning suddenly haughty. “No-one in particular.”
“That can’t be true,” she replied, not knowing what to make of his sudden coolness. He had rescued her and fought for her honor, and now he was behaving as though he had done nothing at all. Perhaps, that was just the way a lord behaved, always carrying an air of nonchalance in such situations. She guessed he was a member of high society by the fine clothes that he wore and the way in which he held himself— the excellent posture that had to be bred, not learned.
“I am just a passing stranger who happened to hear your cry for help. That is all you need know,” he replied, more insistently, as though he were anxious not to tell her directly who he was.
She frowned. “Are you masquerading as a gentleman?”
“Me?” He mustered a chuckle, though it did not sound as though he laughed often. “Iama gentleman. I would not masquerade.”
“You don’t fight like a gentleman. I thought it was one arm behind the back and Queensbury rules with high society fellows?” It was mostly a guess, but she had never seen any gentleman use a concealed dagger. That seemed more like something a vagabond would use, as grateful as she was for his intervention.
He smiled stiffly. “War removes some of the refinement.”
“Oh.” She immediately felt bad for pointing out his style of combat. Truly, she had not thought he might once have been a soldier, despite knowing there were plenty of gentlemen who responded to the nation’s call-to-arms.I always assumed they found a way out of their duties.
“Does that answer all of your relentless questions?” His eyes glinted with something like amusement.
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry if I caused offense.” She paused, before blurting out: “Thank you for saving me, My Lord. Is that right? Should I call you My Lord? Or are you a Your Grace? It’s difficult to tell, just by looking. But… uh… thank you.”
He gave a small nod. “Think nothing of it.”
But she could not. She owed him her life.
“Truly, thank you so very much. I do not know what I would have done if you had not appeared when you did. I thought they were going to… Never mind. That’s not important right now. I’m just thankful for you, My Lord.” She sketched an awkward curtsey, her legs too shaky to bend properly. “I’m entirely in your debt.”
He wiped his blade on his sleeve before concealing it again. “I do not require your thanks, Miss. I did not do it for you. I merely wished to teach such vagrants a lesson, so they think twice before attacking an innocent again.” He sniffed. “You could have been anyone.”
“Ah… I see.” His words struck her like poisoned barbs, sinking into her chest. It was not quite the response she had expected from a heroic gentleman. Nevertheless, she was grateful, and she would not be dissuaded from showing her thanks. “You might not require it, but I’m still thankful. Even if it was just to teach those men a lesson, you rescued me while you were doing it. I’m alive, and I’m more or less unscathed because of your actions. So… thank you again.”
The stranger squinted at her, a fleeting expression of surprise glinting in his unusual eyes. He covered it swiftly, looking away from her until she was not sure if she had seen it in the first place. “Well, you ought to continue on your way. Do not use alleys if you can help it. I do not want to have to teach any more lessons tonight.” His voice held little emotion, which might have disheartened her, had her mind not already turned toward other matters.
I could have died tonight, Pa. I will not endure it anymore.
She raised her chin, just as the stranger had done, and walked off up the alley, against the gentleman’s warning to do otherwise, before he could say another word. Tonight, her father would not wriggle off the hook. She intended to scold him so severely that he would not be able to muster a response. And once that was done, she planned to leave and never return.
“I will never put myself in danger for you or give you a penny of my money ever again,” she muttered bitterly, as anger drove her forward. “No more, Pa. No more.”
* * *
Why did she look at me like that?Dorian eyed the retreating figure, thinking of her expression a few moments before. There had been no fear when she had looked upon his face, nor the usual half-concealed curse under the breath when she had clearly noted his unusual eyes. There had been only relief and… something else—a warmer look than he was used to, akin to admiration.
