The Love Trilogy by Edith Layton

Author:Edith Layton [Layton, Edith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Untreed Reads
Published: 2020-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

12

It was a narrow street crowded with tall old houses that tipped toward each other over the cobbled road as though they yearned to lean on each other for support as they staggered under the weight of the years. Arden had been directed toward the top floor of a gray and peeling house, and as he went up the curving flights of stairs as quickly and as lightly as a lass might skim down them, he kept his hand over his waistcoat pocket. This was not so as to feel his heart, which wasn’t laboring in the least with the exertion, but to ensure that heart’s continued beating by the expedient of keeping his hand near to his pocket pistol. He didn’t know the man he had to face at the top of the stairs, but he knew enough about him to know that such a fellow would be most dangerous, if not only dangerous, if he felt he was trapped.

High up under the roof, where an artist or a stargazer would have celebrated the light or the freedom of the open sky, a deserter hid from view. Arden knew this, and yet he paused only to take in a breath before he knocked at the door. He tensed as the hesitant voice within called out a query in French, because he knew it didn’t take a brave man to protect his own life, nor did only valiant men kill those that threatened them. So he spoke his answer plain and in a calm flat voice, in English, and at once, before Lieutenant Devlin could get anxious about a second’s unexplained silence. This was no place for deception.

“It is Arden Lyons,” he said coolly. “I’ve come to talk, only to talk, with you. About Francesca Carlisle.… We must speak, she wishes it,” he added when there’d been no answer for long seconds.

The door eased open. Of course the slender gentleman with the white and strained face who stood there held a pistol, and of course it was leveled at his heart. Arden relaxed. It was all going as he’d thought it would.

“May I come in?” he asked, not so much as blinking or raising his hands a fraction from where he’d dropped them to rest at his sides.

A terse nod and a gesture with his head were the only answer he got. He strode into the room, and looked about impatiently, remembering that his security lay in his absolute confidence; unease or stealth would set this man off.

“Lieutenant Devlin?” he asked.

“Henry Durham,” the gentleman answered quickly.

“Also Lieutenant Harry Devlin,” Arden stated in flat, bored tones.

The young man hesitated. Then he asked despairingly, “She told you?”

“Scarcely needed to, I would have found out. But, yes, she did. I was sworn to secrecy, never doubt it. And,” he said loudly and immediately, seeing how the young man began to grow white about the mouth and his upper lip grew damp, “once I swear to a thing, it is unalterable. I’ve no interest in you, Devlin, beyond Francesca’s peace of mind.

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