From Duke till Dawn by Eva Leigh

Author:Eva Leigh [Leigh, Eva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-29T21:00:00+00:00

The crowd was a mix of high and low, not unlike Cassandra and Alex.

She scanned the masses of people, looking for Martin. Craggy, working faces mingled with smooth, pale leisured faces, and the quality of clothing varied from threadbare castoffs to custom gowns and coats from Bond Street. The air smelled of perfume, dust, and horse manure. It would be so easy to slip her hand into an unguarded reticule, or a gentleman’s pocket. A few coins here, a timepiece there.

But that wasn’t her life anymore. That wasn’t her.

Alex had been all too ready to cast her as the thieving villainess, yet he didn’t seem to think of her that way anymore. He kept defending her when he’d had no reason to come to her aid.

He clearly struggled with their constantly shifting roles. Yet, as they continued to look through the spectators, he kept glancing back at her, as if making sure she was safe.

There was a goodness in him that went beyond duty. It was innate, even as he continued to mistrust her.

Was it merely desire that pulled Alex to her, or had they progressed to something even more complicated—two people, free of pretense, seeing each other as they were for the first time? Her chest ached with the desire for him to want her, all of her. Perhaps that was impossible. Perhaps she wished for foolish dreams—and she already knew what happened to those who dreamed.

Her head throbbed. Little made sense anymore, and it seemed that this lead in tracking Martin came to nothing. They’d been combing the spectators with no sign of her former mentor. Where else could they look for him? Maybe searching London’s brothels would yield some results. Or the theaters, or pleasure gardens, or any of a hundred places a swindler might go to spend his blunt before slipping out of town forever.

Cassandra was about to suggest to Alex that they pack it in, when the crowd shifted slightly, revealing a man in a checked coat. Nobody gently born would ever wear such a thing. Yet it seemed familiar.

The man wearing the coat turned to watch the horses at the starting line, revealing his face.

“Alex,” she hissed, tugging on his hand. “It’s him.” She nodded in the checked coat’s direction. “Look slowly.”

Alex did as she commanded, casually glancing over his shoulder. But she felt his hand stiffen as he recognized Martin.

“Approach him cautiously,” he said between his teeth.

“We should split up,” Cassandra suggested. “You take him from one side, I’ll get the other.”

He eyed her warily.

“Why would I run?” she demanded. “If we don’t move on him now, we could lose him.”

His look softened, and Alex nodded.

They broke apart, and she swiftly but stealthily made her way past the spectators in her path, carefully keeping her face averted so Martin couldn’t see her. She drew on her experience as a pickpocket to slip through the crowd without causing a disturbance.

She espied Alex coming from the other direction, slowly but determinedly approaching Martin.

There was a cry, and the first race began.

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