in his chest, so intense, so huge, he was stunned. He was still holding her arm and his hand trembled against the fabric of her sleeve. He let go of her and stepped back to put space between them.
He’d thought himself incapable of anything this strong.
“I will not hide behind your skirts, Miss Raven. And I will not let a thug rule my life as he seems to do yours.” He spoke gently, and she lifted those dark blue eyes to his, then cut away to study the lush, green grass of the lawn.
“You really don’t understand.” She let the petals drop and gripped her hands together. “This is not about pride. This is about your life. In the last few months, things have been getting …” She paused and looked back toward the stables as if Kit could still see them. “Getting worse. I truly fear he is capable of murder.”
“According to you, he’s already murdered my men.”
She lifted her shoulders. “Men asking questions in his patch, that’s fair game, to him. Someone paying me too much mind? Until now, he’s limited himself to filching them in the street.”
She used the word filch instead of rob deliberately, he thought, broadened her accent on purpose. Trying to push him away, make him understand she was truly of another world. It was too little. And much too late.
He let it pass for now.
“You may owe this man something, that you let him rule you like a despot, but he doesn’t rule me. And I am far from the youngbloods and dandies of the ballrooms.” He took another step away.
“Are you?” Her words could have been a taunt but were not. She was serious. “Have you spent your life fighting hard just to stay alive? Been thrown in the equivalent of a pit with hardly any food and way too many people, most of them much biggerthan you?” She straightened her spine and lifted her head. “Luke and his boys—I—have lived like that, Lord Durnham. I worked from dawn to dusk with barely a meal to sustain me and so little pay that there was literally no way for me to ever better my circumstances legally. I was a slave in all but name. Luke and the men in his gang, they have been thieving and yes, killing, since they were children. It was either that or die themselves, and where you might hesitate, or think something through, they will not. They will act, act hard, fast, and they will not think twice about your death. It will not weigh on their minds.”
She was trying to protect him. Either scare him off or give him the best advice she could.
He thought of the hours he’d spent learning to fight, and the desperation he’d felt when he’d first begun, to never be helpless. But the edge was off him now. When he’d hired the footpad who’d once tried to accost him to teach him street fighting, he’d had the beatings his stepfather had given him in mind. But his stepfather was in his power these days, old and dependent on Edward’s largesse.
He didn’t have the same fire in his belly. And as Charlotte pointed out, these men faced life and death in every fight they threw themselves into. Had been tempered in a much hotter furnace than he’d ever faced.
He looked at her again and wondered if this feeling that thrummed inside him at just the thought of her was enough to give him an equal footing. “If your Luke thinks I will be easy pickings,” he said at last, “he is very much mistaken.”
11
W ith sinking dread Charlotte watched Lord Durnham ride away. Out on the street, an urchin leaped up from the gutter and threw a half brick at his horses’ legs, narrowly missing the left one’s fine fetlocks.
She moved fast, and with his attention still on the retreating phaeton, managed to grab the little bastard by the neck and arm. “Who are you?”
He gave her a disgusted look, taking in the fine-patterned green-and-white lawn of her dress, her expertly dressed hair, and tried to eel his way out of her grasp. But she knew all the tricks. Had used them countless times herself.
“I said, who are
He’d thought himself incapable of anything this strong.
“I will not hide behind your skirts, Miss Raven. And I will not let a thug rule my life as he seems to do yours.” He spoke gently, and she lifted those dark blue eyes to his, then cut away to study the lush, green grass of the lawn.
“You really don’t understand.” She let the petals drop and gripped her hands together. “This is not about pride. This is about your life. In the last few months, things have been getting …” She paused and looked back toward the stables as if Kit could still see them. “Getting worse. I truly fear he is capable of murder.”
“According to you, he’s already murdered my men.”
She lifted her shoulders. “Men asking questions in his patch, that’s fair game, to him. Someone paying me too much mind? Until now, he’s limited himself to filching them in the street.”
She used the word filch instead of rob deliberately, he thought, broadened her accent on purpose. Trying to push him away, make him understand she was truly of another world. It was too little. And much too late.
He let it pass for now.
“You may owe this man something, that you let him rule you like a despot, but he doesn’t rule me. And I am far from the youngbloods and dandies of the ballrooms.” He took another step away.
“Are you?” Her words could have been a taunt but were not. She was serious. “Have you spent your life fighting hard just to stay alive? Been thrown in the equivalent of a pit with hardly any food and way too many people, most of them much biggerthan you?” She straightened her spine and lifted her head. “Luke and his boys—I—have lived like that, Lord Durnham. I worked from dawn to dusk with barely a meal to sustain me and so little pay that there was literally no way for me to ever better my circumstances legally. I was a slave in all but name. Luke and the men in his gang, they have been thieving and yes, killing, since they were children. It was either that or die themselves, and where you might hesitate, or think something through, they will not. They will act, act hard, fast, and they will not think twice about your death. It will not weigh on their minds.”
She was trying to protect him. Either scare him off or give him the best advice she could.
He thought of the hours he’d spent learning to fight, and the desperation he’d felt when he’d first begun, to never be helpless. But the edge was off him now. When he’d hired the footpad who’d once tried to accost him to teach him street fighting, he’d had the beatings his stepfather had given him in mind. But his stepfather was in his power these days, old and dependent on Edward’s largesse.
He didn’t have the same fire in his belly. And as Charlotte pointed out, these men faced life and death in every fight they threw themselves into. Had been tempered in a much hotter furnace than he’d ever faced.
He looked at her again and wondered if this feeling that thrummed inside him at just the thought of her was enough to give him an equal footing. “If your Luke thinks I will be easy pickings,” he said at last, “he is very much mistaken.”
11
W ith sinking dread Charlotte watched Lord Durnham ride away. Out on the street, an urchin leaped up from the gutter and threw a half brick at his horses’ legs, narrowly missing the left one’s fine fetlocks.
She moved fast, and with his attention still on the retreating phaeton, managed to grab the little bastard by the neck and arm. “Who are you?”
He gave her a disgusted look, taking in the fine-patterned green-and-white lawn of her dress, her expertly dressed hair, and tried to eel his way out of her grasp. But she knew all the tricks. Had used them countless times herself.
“I said, who are
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