by Rebecca King
An hour later, Connor closed the front door to Gillingham House and watched closely as Tahlia removed her shawl and murmured a few words to the concerned maid.
Cecily studied him carefully before she turned and hurried away. Connor didn’t give her a second glance, though. His attention was locked firmly on the mistress of the house: Tahlia.
“What is going on?” He held a hand up when he read the defiance in her eyes. He suspected from the way she glanced furtively around the hallway that she intended to lie to him. “I want the truth, Tahlia. Don’t tell me that someone has tried to get your jewels and your bag off you in one morning, and then tried to snatch you off the street, merely because you are a pedestrian. Those were no random crimes. Those people knew what they were after and didn’t care if they had to take you to get what they wanted. What do you have on you that they want so desperately? What’s in there?” He added as he pointed to her bag.
“I don’t have anything,” she protested. “I don’t know what they want.”
“Well, let me see inside your bag,” he challenged.
His suspicions were proven correct when she immediately clutched her bag tighter. With his patience wearing thin, Connor stalked toward her. He wasn’t going to be thwarted. If he had to put her over his knee and keep her there while he looked inside her bag then that is what he would do.
Each step he took toward her was carefully controlled, closely measured, and designed to heighten her worry. It worked because he caught the tell-tale backward step she took when he was about six feet away from her.
“Give me the bag, Tahlia,” he ordered firmly.
Tahlia tried not to stare at him, but this was the first time she had seen him outside of the smog for three years. There was now a stern demeanour about him that hadn’t been there before. It emphasised his rugged handsomeness. It was even more enthralling than the affability of the charming rogue she had met three years ago. There was an air of danger about Connor now that she couldn’t remember being there before, but it was attractive rather than repulsive.
Of course it wasn’t there before. You wouldn’t have gone anywhere near him if he had appeared as dangerous as he does now, a small voice warned her.
She tried to ignore the vast expanse of his broad, broad shoulders encased lovingly in an extremely expensive jacket. While she tried to keep her gaze off the length of his leg, she found herself studying his highly polished boots lovingly clasping his heavily muscled calves. She swallowed and winced at how audible it was in the silence of the hallway.
“Give me the bag, Tahlia,” Connor ordered.
He spoke to try to divert her attention off him before she saw the evidence of his keen interest in her. Thankfully, she looked up and met his gaze.
“No,” she whispered. “There is nothing in here they could want.”
The silence thickened when it became evident that neither of them was prepared to surrender. In the end, when the silence had stretched to breaking point, Tahlia couldn’t stand it any longer. Still clutching her bag, she removed her shawl and stalked toward the front door.
“Well, I have to be getting on now. Thank you for your assistance this morning. It is most appreciated,” she said as she yanked it open and stood back to allow him out of the house.
Rather than take his leave, Connor turned and watched her.
“Close the door, Tahlia,” he ordered. “I am not leaving.”
She stood beside it and glared at him. “I won’t keep you. I am sure you have things to be getting on with as well.”
“I think I deserve an explanation,” he said. “I have saved you three times today, Tahlia. I think I am owed something.”
Tahlia mentally winced. He had a point, but she still couldn’t afford for him to remain in the house for much longer.
When Tahlia didn’t close the door, Connor moved toward her and closed it for her. However, once it had slammed shut, he remained in front of her, effectively daring her to try to put some distance between them. To do that, she had to move around him and would have to brush past him.
“After everything I have done to help you this morning, Tahlia, the least I deserve is a bloody explanation,” he growled.
“There is nothing to explain,” she countered defensively. “This is London. A city where people get mugged every day, I am sure. Why, if Cecily hadn’t become lost in the smog we would have been home hours ago.”
“This might be London, but people don’t get mugged twice in one day, Tahlia. Nor do they get snatched off the streets very often. I don’t want to be pedantic here, but if they were ordinary muggers, they were darned determined. I mean, to snatch you off the street is a tad excessive for an ordinary mugger who could have picked off any of the other pedestrians on the street today, isn’t it? For some, rather mysterious reason, they – not he – they, chose you. Now, why, I wonder?”
Tahlia froze when one long finger flicked at the tassels on her purse.
“Could it have something to do with the contents of this?” he murmured.
The husky timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine and it had nothing to do with the threat in his eye. She stared at him and knew then that she was never going to go anywhere if she didn’t tell him at least something to appease his curiosity. She had to tell him what little she knew, if only to get him to go before Cecily revealed all of their secrets.
Determined to shake off the invisible tug of attraction which seemed to get more difficult to ignore each time he drew near, Tahlia sighed.
“I have been to the solicitor’s office to sign some documentation regarding this house, that’s all. He gave me this key,” she explained.
She slapped the bag down onto the table and opened it. Aware of his scrutiny, she dropped her coin purse onto the table, followed by a neatly folded handkerchief and the large iron key Mr Kibble had given her. Beside that she put the letter her uncle had left for her.
“See? That’s all that is in there,” she sighed and dropped down into the chair behind the desk.
Connor moved forward to inspect them and cursed silently when he realised she was telling the truth. There was nothing untoward about anything she had in her possession. What were the muggers after then? Was it a case of mistaken identity?
If so, they did not get the message they were picking on the wrong person, he mused silently as he studied the key with a frown. There was nothing about it that would warrant such a determined effort to relieve her of it.
Thankfully, the stilted silence was broken by the rattle of pots by the door. They both looked up in time to watch Oscar manoeuvre a heavy tray of tea things through the door and hesitate when he saw Connor.
“Cecily said you wanted tea, ma’am,” he murmured reluctantly as he crossed the room. After that brief yet telling moment of hesitation, he adopted his most officious demeanour and slid the tray onto the table before her. “Would you like me to pour, ma’am?”
“No, thank you,” Tahlia replied. “If you can make sure Cecily is alright, it would be appreciated, Oscar. I think she got a little frightened by the smog. Make sure she stays in the kitchen where it is warm, would you?”
Her gaze met Oscars. A wealth of understanding swept between them. Oscar nodded and bowed before he quietly took his leave. He would indeed keep Cecily in the kitchen where she wouldn’t be tempted to let something slip, especially while Connor was here.
Once the butler had gone, Tahlia turned her attention to the contents of her bag.
“What is it to?” Connor asked as he tested the key for size and weight.
It felt like something people would have used a hundred years ago. It was too heavy and cumbersome to be of much use these days. There wasn’t anything so unusual about it that anyone would be prepared to rob and kidnap her to get it. Of course, it might not be the key that was the valuable asset here. It could be what the key was to that was significant. His ears pricked up when Tahlia spoke.
Tahlia sighed. “I have yet to see if it fits an
ything in this house because I have only just collected it from the solicitors.”
“The solicitor gave it to you?” Connor asked with a frown. “Your uncle didn’t leave it in the house?”
Tahlia shook her head. “I don’t see how much use it would be to anyone. I mean, I don’t even know what it is for. This is so old that I don’t think there is anything in the house old enough to fit it.”
“Your uncle didn’t leave any note with the key?” Connor asked with a frown as he studied the small note with Tahlia’s name on it.
Tahlia refused to open it in his presence. She wanted to read it when she was alone in case it contained something personal relating to Joseph.
“How long have you been here?” he asked casually, aware that her uncle had passed away several weeks ago.
He nodded when she offered tea and watched as she poured two cups with trembling hands. Her ordeal this morning had left a mark upon her after all. Or was it that he was asking questions that unnerved her for some reason?
“Two days,” she replied bluntly.
“Two days?” His scowl deepened. “But your uncle died several weeks ago.”
He mentally winced, but it was too late to take the words back.
“I am well aware of when my uncle passed,” Tahlia informed him pertly.
Connor was confused. “Did nobody contact you to inform you of his passing?”
Tahlia sighed. She didn’t want to answer his questions but doubted he would stop until he had all the answers he wanted.
“I was notified about three weeks after his passing. I received a note from the solicitor to inform me that I was a beneficiary of his will.” She looked at him sadly. “He had already been buried by then.”
“I am sorry,” Connor offered gently.
Tahlia nodded.
“I haven’t been able to travel to London before now.” Tahlia didn’t tell him that her reluctance to leave home was because of Joseph.
“Who knows that you are back in London?”
“Nobody,” Tahlia replied honestly. “I have no acquaintance in London to inform of my return.”
“What about the solicitor?” Connor prompted her. “Did you tell him?”
Tahlia shook her head. “He wrote to inform me that he had some papers for me to sign and that I needed to visit his offices to sign them. I didn’t arrange a specific date and time with him. I just dropped by today on the off-chance someone was available to see me.”
Connor wondered if she had been followed when she left the house that morning.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Thalia continued. “He had the papers ready, so I signed them. I also have some business I need him to conduct for me, and we discussed that while I was there.”
Tahlia weighed her options. Nobody but Connor knew what had happened this morning. At the moment, she needed someone to confide in about it all. If only so she could make sense of what had happened and decide what to do next.
“Shouldn’t I report what happened to the magistrate?” she asked with a frown. She glanced outside, but the prospect of going back out there had very little appeal.
“I will do it,” Connor sighed. “I think I saw a bit more of your attackers than you did.”
Happy to hand that particular task over to him, Tahlia nodded.
“So, you own this house now?”
He pursed his lips as he looked around the huge room. It was luxurious, if a little unfashionable. It would make a wonderful home once a few changes had been made. He was so lost in the changes he would make that he was shocked when she spoke
Tahlia glanced around the room. “I have decided to sell it. However, before it can be sold, it needs to be emptied. I have had to pay a brief visit because there are a few things of my uncle’s I wish to keep. I was sorting through everything when I found a package of letters my uncle had kept in the study. In them was a note to me that he had written in the weeks prior to his death. He told me he had left me something at the solicitor’s offices. He asked me to fetch it and read its contents.”
“So you dropped by there this morning and had a meeting with the solicitor.” Connor sighed. “There were no instructions with the key?”
“That is all there is,” Tahlia lied and waved vaguely toward the contents of her purse. “Apart from a gold necklace and my pearl bracelet, there is nothing on me that would make anyone want to pester me with such determination. I think that this has all been some sort of opportunistic game for muggers who make full use of the thick London smog to target victims at will. After all, when the conditions are this bad, who is around to see what they are up to?”
When Connor didn’t agree with her, Tahlia moved toward the window and stared out into the smog. There was a faint reflection of the fire behind her in the glass and she studied it while she considered the morning’s events. She wondered what Connor thought about the morning’s events, and didn’t have to wait long before she received her answer.
“Given that they already had your bracelets off you during the first mugging in the alley, I think it is safe to assume that they were after the key. They may know what this key opens,” Connor replied. “You need to be very careful, Tahlia, because they have gone to great lengths to get it off you today. Thankfully, the smog today protected you from prying eyes. However, they may not give up so easily the next time you leave this house.”
“Oh, rubbish,” she protested, shaken at the thought. When Connor remained stoically silent, Tahlia turned to face him. “I am sure that there will be other people reporting muggings on a day like today. Who would want a grubby old key, anyway?”
“Did you get a good look at the man in the alley?” he asked when she began to edge toward the desk again.
Tahlia reluctantly turned her gaze toward him.
“Who?” She demanded instinctively and then winced when she realised who he meant. Glancing toward the street again, she sighed deeply. “Er, no. It all happened so fast.”
Connor nodded. He had memorised every characteristic of the man, and would recognise him in a heartbeat if he ever saw him again. However, he had barely caught sight of the second would-be thief before he had disappeared. As for the person in the carriage; he had no idea if that person had been male or female.
“What about the note?” he prompted.
“I haven’t read it yet,” she said, hoping he would drop the subject.
He didn’t. “Don’t you think you should?”
Tahlia sighed and shook her head. “Not now. I need to do that alone.” She turned and looked at him.
“Why?”
“Too many memories,” she whispered. She wasn’t just talking about memories of her uncle either.
Connor nodded in understanding. “How have you been, Tahlia?”
Tahlia didn’t want to acknowledge the instinctive tug of attraction she felt toward him, and tried desperately to block it out, but it was there anyway. She remained in place, with one shoulder propped against the shutter of the window, studying the reflection of the room behind her. It wasn’t the contents of the room she was watching. It was Connor. She didn’t watch him for long. Although she remained where she was, she tensed as she watched him move to stand behind her.
“Tahlia,” he whispered.
“I am fine, thank you,” she replied, not making any attempt to move.
Connor tipped his head to one side, silently willing her to look at him.
“No, I mean, how are you?” he whispered, ensuring this was more than a mere cursory question.
“I am alright. Really,” she assured him firmly.
“Really? Because it looks to me like you are worried about something, and it has nothing to do with what happened out on the street this morning,” he mused.
He had his hands on her waist, and felt her tense. It gave him all the answers he needed. He was now positive that she wasn’t being honest with him.
“Don’t be preposterous. Where I come from people don’t get mugged that’s all. It has not o
nly happened to me twice in one morning, but I also nearly got run over by that carriage. Is it any wonder that I am a little shaken?”
“No, it isn’t, Tahlia,” he replied calmly. “But I also know there is something you are not telling me.”
He knew from her defensiveness that he had touched on a raw nerve. He could push but suspected it wouldn’t get him anywhere. In fact, it might just put even more distance between them and he couldn’t afford for that to happen. He was now positive that she was keeping secrets, and they were dangerous ones. Until he could ascertain how much danger she was in while staying in the house he had to remain close to her. All he had to do was find a way to tell her that.
The sudden chiming of the clock on the mantle made him groan. He was already four hours late for a meeting with Barnaby. His morning’s work had already been lost, but it was too late to go now. Barnaby would have left the meeting place and moved on to somewhere else by now. At least here, in Tahlia’s house, Connor had a chance of making his morning count for something.
“Tahlia,” he prompted gently when Tahlia continued to stare out of the window in thoughtful silence.
“I can’t,” she protested.
“Can’t what?” He waited while she contemplated what to tell him.
On a personal note, he wanted her to object to his touching her, not least because he wanted her to be as affected by what they shared as he was. However, given the mystery that surrounded her right now, he suspected she didn’t want to allow him close in case he learned too much.
“I can’t give you the answers you want. Oh, I hate London and everyone in it,” she snapped suddenly.
Before he could stop her, she pushed away from his gentle hold and stalked across the room. Tears hovered on her lashes but she refused to allow them to fall. She couldn’t. Not now. Not just yet. She wanted to do that in private. Determined to keep her emotions to herself, she took refuge in the discontent that settled heavily over her shoulders.
Slumping into a chair before the fire, she turned her attention back to her tea. Her nose wrinkled when she took a sip. She slapped the cup down in annoyance that her tea was now cold. She was angry, at him, herself, and at everyone in London for being so foolish as to allow criminals to wander the streets. She was annoyed at Cecily for wandering off, and the muggers for targeting her. Her anger didn’t stop there, though. She was even annoyed with her uncle for placing her firmly in the quagmire she found herself in. In that moment she yearned to pack the meagre possessions she had brought with her, and head back to Rutland. She had money now. There was no financial need to sell the house straightaway. She could lock the place up and go home, and come back maybe in a few years to close it up completely.