Dark Desires by Eve Silver

Author:Eve Silver
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2014-07-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Holding the folded newspaper in her hand, Darcie hastened from the room and made her way down the stairs and out the back door. She was intent on finding John and asking him to take her to Whitechapel, to Mrs. Feather's house. She did not stop in the kitchen on her way. The breakfast that Mary had told her about earlier held no appeal. Her stomach was clenched in tight little knots, the pain sharp, but it was the ache in her heart that was unbearable.

The days spent living under Damien's roof had lulled her into a false sense of security. She had come to feel safe, to feel that she had a place, to believe that she was cared for. She had allowed herself to hope, to dream. It was too dreadful to conceive that just as her fantasies and expectations began to bubble and grow, they must crash to the ground in a horrible conflagration and burn away to cold, dead ash.

So frenzied were Darcie's thoughts that she did not see John moving across the drive toward her. It was not until she slammed up against him that she was pulled from her reverie.

“Whoa, there girl,” he said, as though speaking to one of his horses. His hands closed around her upper arms, steadying her.

“Oh, John!” Darcie exclaimed looking up into his kind eyes. “I'm terribly sorry.”

“No harm done.” He let go his hold of her arms and dropped his hands to his sides. “Where were you heading in such a hurry?”

“I was looking for you. Damien—I mean, Dr. Cole—said that I might ask you to take me somewhere today.”

“To the park then? Like last time?” John asked with a smile.

Darcie swallowed. “No, to Whitechapel. To the place you took us once before. Mrs. Feather's house.”

The coachman looked startled. “Why would you want to be going there? ‘Tis not a fit place for a young girl like you.”

“Please, John.” Cloying panic began to ferment deep inside of her. She had not considered that he might refuse to take her there.

John gazed down at her and slowly shook his head, and with his denial her panic grew, squeezing her chest in a vise-like band. She must go to Mrs. Feather's. She must have her answers. What if she had bedded a murderer—

No, she could not think it, not until she questioned her sister. Damien was good. He was kind. He had shown her only goodness, yet—

Darcie caught John's arm as he began to turn away.

“Please,” she whispered once more, but as he turned his face back towards her and she saw his resolute expression, she tried the only argument that could possibly sway him. “Please, John. I must go. For you see, Mrs. Feather, she is...” The words seemed trapped in her throat. She could read in his eyes that he would not agree to take her, and sucking in a single shallow breath, she then said in a rush, “Mrs. Feather is my sister.”

John blinked, clearly astounded by her admission, and for a long moment he said nothing.

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