by Rebecca King
CHAPTER NINE
She shook her head when the maid offered her food or a drink and waited while Luke took a seat beside her. She should object to him sitting so close, and ask him to put some more decorous between them, but nobody within the busy tap had given them even a cursory glance so to do so would just waste time she didn’t have.
Luke decided to just cut to the chase. Aware that he was sitting far too close to her than was polite for a lady he didn’t know, he made a point of leaning closer still and smiled when he saw a flicker of awareness in her eyes when she looked at him. It pleased him to note that she wasn’t as averse to him as she pretended to be and for the first time since he had met her, he started to feel fairly confident that he could get the truth from her.
“Firstly -” he began softly, “- why didn’t you wait with the body like I told you to?” He didn’t take his eyes off her as he waited for her to reply and watched the shadows flicker in her eyes a moment before her gaze dropped to the table top. He knew immediately from that look that she was hiding something and glanced down at the bags tucked carefully behind her legs, protected from view by her skirts.
“I needed to leave,” she replied evasively. “Why should I stay?”
Luke snorted. “Because you knew the man had been murdered. You saw the marks on his neck. The magistrate has questions for you about what you saw that morning.”
“I didn’t see anything,” she protested quickly, then closed her mouth with a snap when she realised she was going to make herself sound guilty if she continued to be so defensive. It wasn’t like her at all to be so brisk with anyone; especially someone who had been nothing but polite and helpful. She glanced around the tap and winced when she realised several people had paused their conversation to look at her. She glared at them and waited until they resumed their conversations before she took a moment to calm down. Once the lull in chatter had eased, she turned her attention back to the man who seemed to occupy her every waking moment.
“I didn’t do it,” she whispered.
“I didn’t say you did,” he countered.
“So why are you asking me? The only people I saw in that park were the pick-pockets and you. It wasn’t me who killed him. I doubt the pick-pockets were big enough.”
“I only have your word that it wasn’t you,” he said silkily.
Poppy’s gaze flew to his. “I have only your word that it wasn’t you either!”
Luke nodded. He saw nothing but pure honestly flashing back at him and was inwardly relieved that she may not be connected to the murder after all.
Aware that people were seated only a few feet away, Poppy kept her voice low. “How could I strangle someone of that size? Why would I?”
“Do you know who he is?”
“Why should I?” she countered in a voice that was nothing short of a hushed, slightly panicked whisper.
“He is a member of aristocracy; the ton and has several connections in high places. He has been identified. You must have read it in the broadsheets.” He watched her frown and immediately wondered if she could read because she looked decidedly evasive.
“I haven’t read the broadsheets of late.” She had, and had scoured every page for mention of Luke, or the body in the park, but so far had seen nothing but a brief article to say that a body had been found by persons unknown. The article had gone on to describe the life and work of a notable gentleman but she couldn’t remember much in the way of details. It was all connected to a world in which she didn’t belong.
“Well, the dead man was rich and had several friends in high places. He was strangled by someone who then dumped his body in the river.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“Why were you in that park?”
“Why were you in the park?” she challenged with a frown. She didn’t like the way he kept exchanging eye contact with the man at the bar. Her stomach was tied up in knots with the tension that thrummed through her. So much so that she knew that if she stayed there for too much longer she was going to be sick right in front of him.
“Look, who are you? Why are you asking me these questions? I told you that I didn’t kill him. I am sorry if you didn’t like the fact that I left the park and didn’t follow your orders but I don’t know you. I am under no obligation to explain my conduct to you, now or ever. I am sorry, but you are barking up the wrong tree if you think I had anything to do with that man’s death, or can tell you anything that might be of any use. I saw nobody you didn’t see. I didn’t even see the man in the woods you claim you chased.”
She swallowed as a tendril of suspicion began to formulate in the back of her mind. Was the man beside her the murderer? Was he pestering her to try to find out whether she witnessed him kill the dead man? Was that why his friend was standing beside the door, effectively blocking the exit? She had to walk right past him if she wanted to leave. She glanced down at her bags and moved her feet to reassure herself that they were still there. It was then that she realised that Mr Brindley had no bags with him. Nearly everyone else in the tap had bags of some kind with them, predominantly because they were travelling to and from places.
Had Luke, Mr Brindley, been waiting around the coaching inn for her to try to leave town?
Panic began to set in the more she contemplated what she knew. He had been just as evasive as her about whom he was and why he was so involved. His relentless pursuit of questions warned her that this was no ordinary run-of-the-mill gentleman with too much time on his hands. Nobody, no member of the public who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, would actively pursue someone across London like this. So who was he if he wasn’t the killer? Why wasn’t he being honest with her?
“Who are you?” she persisted with a frown.
“I am just someone who got stuck with a body in the park the other day because you left when I asked you to stay.”
“I didn’t realise it was that important. You left me alone in the park with a dead man. What would I have done if someone other than you had stumbled upon me? It looked suspicious even to me, and I didn’t do anything.”
“Why were you in the park then?” Luke challenged. “Who was that woman in the yard just now whom you claim tried to push you under the carriage?”
“I don’t know,” Poppy whispered. “I have never seen her before either.”
“Are you sure?”
Poppy nodded. “Yes, I am sure.”
“Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt you?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say ‘no’, but then she thought about what had happened in the kitchen with Clarence. As she remembered those fateful moments that had changed her outlook on life completely, she touched her cheek with tentative fingers.
Luke watched the shadows appear in her eyes and knew she was remembering a painful moment in time. He wanted to touch her, to reassure her everything would be all right, but had no idea what she had just remembered. He remained quiet and waited patiently until she remembered where she was.
“She wasn’t familiar to me,” she replied.
She tried desperately to block out the shiver of attraction she felt toward the man beside her, but couldn’t. It seemed to make the decision to return to Cumbria more important than ever. Life in Cumbria, although dull and boring at times, was a lot less complicated than here in London. She yearned for those peace-filled, tranquil days in some ways, but dreaded going back in others. At least here she had different opportunities. In Cumbria, she was very aware that life in the country restricted her ability to find suitable employment somewhat – whatever that ‘suitable employment’ might be.
So that’s a yes then, Luke thought but chose not to push for details right now.
“Last call for Northern, route 112,” the portly yard manager yelled through the door.
When Poppy picked up her bag, Luke frowned. “I thought you were from the south?”
She looked at him, painfully aware that he had just caught her out with a li
e. She prayed she would find a way to get out of the yard without Luke following her now. Rather than answer, she pushed to her feet and glared at him.
“I am sorry, you are out of time. I don’t have any information to give you and really, you should be asking yourself what you saw that morning because you are more likely to have seen something suspicious than me,” she replied calmly but matter-of-factly.
“Oh? How so?”
She wanted to say, ‘because your behaviour is far more suspicious than mine’, but didn’t. Instead she looked at him, then toward the door. “You chase pick-pockets, and you were the only person who saw someone apparently lurking in the woods and gave chase after who was, probably, a murderer. I didn’t.”
Before he could think of a response, she turned around, swept past the man at the bar and hurried out into the coaching yard only to stop at the sight of the confusing number of carriages, people, and horses practically everywhere.
Worried, she turned toward the portly yard manager.
“Please, sir, which is the coach to Cumbria?” Her eyes grew wide with dismay when the manager pointed to the back of a coach that was already rumbling out of the yard. She opened her mouth to call it back but was halted by another hand on her elbow.
“’ere, watch out. You need to stay out of the path of ‘em. They won’t stop for the likes of you.” Whatever else the yard manager said was obliterated by the loud toot of the horn that numbed her ears.
Poppy turned to ask the yard manager when the next carriage to Cumbria was due to depart, but movement within the darkened entrance of the tavern reminded her that Luke and his associate were likely to appear at any moment. Without thinking about what she was going to do now, she hurriedly left the yard.
Luke swore and watched her scurry into the main street. He suspected she had just missed her carriage and had decided to look for somewhere to stay until the next one left. Desperate not to lose her in the grimy streets of London again, he left Marcus to find out when the next one was due to depart and took off after her.
Curious to know where she intended to go now, he tugged the collar of his jacket up to ward off the morning chill, and followed her. He had to stay closer than he usually would when he followed someone because of the thick smog that threatened to swallow her completely, but that didn’t bother him. Right now he didn’t care whether she saw him or not. As far as he was concerned, Fate had just handed him an ace, and he wasn’t prepared to squander it.
“Well, well, well, look who we have here.”
Poppy’s step faltered, and she turned to stare at the owner of the voice that filled her with so much dread. Trying desperately to ignore the fear that made her tremble she tipped her chin up defiantly and glared at the one man in London she least wanted to meet.
“Clarence.”
“Leaving so soon?” Clarence drawled with a nod toward the coaching inn.
“I didn’t realise you were following me,” Poppy snapped. She forced herself to tip her chin up and meet his gaze with as much disinterest as she could muster. She refused to be cowed by him and glared at him with all the venom she felt while she waited for his inevitable demands.
“Did you really think I would let you get away?”
Luke melted into the shadows, mere inches from where Poppy stood and thanked the good Lord for the smog that protected him from prying eyes. Because of the density of it the normal sounds of the street were deadened which helped him to listen to the conversation between Poppy and the stranger without hindrance.
“I am going back to Cumbria to see what can be done about the house,” Poppy retorted.
“It is sold, so has nothing to do with you. You are wasting your time going back there.”
“My belongings are there,” Poppy countered.
“Not any more. They have been sold too. You are wasting your time, and money.” Clarence’s hard gaze slid downward to rest on the bag in Poppy’s hand. “Money that isn’t yours by the way. I want it back.”
“It’s not yours either,” Poppy replied. “I am giving you nothing.”
Clarence took a threatening step forward. His face flooded with anger. Rather than threaten her as she suspected he wanted to do he sucked in a deep breath to calm himself and levelled an evil stare on her instead.
“Give me the money, Poppy. I demand you hand it over. Did you really think you could steal from me and I wouldn’t know about it?”
Poppy didn’t deny lying to him, but she had no intention of being accused of stealing when she hadn’t.
“I am not a thief.”
His lip curled derisively. “You took money that wasn’t yours.”
“It isn’t yours either.” Poppy shook her head but wondered if he could see her through the gloom.
“That money is mine,” Clarence snarled. “You took it from me. Now I want it back.”
“Go to hell. You will not get anything from me,” she ground out, more determined than ever to return the money to Peter now and be done with it herself. “If you want money, sort it out yourself.”
“Damn you, you little witch,” Clarence snapped. He stepped forward with his hands outstretched.
Luke had seen, and heard, enough. Filled with disappointment that she had lied to him, he lunged toward the older man but was too late. He grabbed at thin air and turned around just in time to note which direction he disappeared in before the smog swallowed him. With nothing more than the clip of Poppy’s boots on the cobbles to guide him, Luke gave chase.
Poppy’s heart raced with terror as she ran and tried to work out where she was. The smog was too thick to see much of anything. The shadowed outline of the shops weren’t familiar enough to her to give her any bearings. She had no idea which way she should go. In spite of being almost cloaked by the surroundings, she had never felt more vulnerable in her life. Fear nipped at her heels, to the point that she struggled to contain her panic as she blindly hurried through one street after another, and in doing so became more and more lost and disorientated.
A gasp escaped her when she caught sight of something black flicker in the shadows to her right and instinctively hurried in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, she soon found that led to a shop doorway. Panicked, she visibly shook as she turned around and tried to find some way of finding out where she was. Should she try to go back to the coaching inn? If she did that she would then have to leave again at some point because her coach had already gone. She couldn’t wait there for the coach tomorrow because Clarence would undoubtedly go back there to look for her.
“You can’t hide from me, Poppy. I know you are here somewhere. I will find you and you will give me what is mine. I won’t have you stealing from me,” Clarence warned. His voice was muffled but still horribly close. A scream hovered on her lips but was silenced firmly by a large palm that was suddenly slammed over her mouth. She sucked in a breath. Her eyes popped wide, but she slumped with relief when she recognised the voice that growled in her ear.
“Shh. Don’t make a move,” Luke ordered. He hauled her bodily back into the shop doorway and moved in front of her to shield her from view. As soon as she realised it was Luke, she remained perfectly still and waited for Clarence to speak again.
Luke felt her slump against him and couldn’t stop himself from sliding a comforting arm around her waist. Although the man had accused her of stealing, there was just something about the way she had touched her cheek when he had asked her if anyone meant her harm that haunted him. Whoever this Clarence was, the venom in his eyes when he had looked at Poppy had been malevolent. He suspected now that the person who had hurt her had been the man who had accused her of theft, but did that make Poppy a thief?
He slid his hand down to capture hers when he felt her physically trembling in his arms and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Follow me. Don’t let your boots click too much on the ground and don’t speak. Hold my hand and stay close.”
“Where are we?” she breathed into his ear.
Luke d
ipped his head toward her ear.
She shivered when the warmth of his breath swept over her cheek. She instinctively turned toward him. Their lips hovered tantalisingly close. Was he going to kiss her again? Her heart skipped a beat. She waited.
Luke mentally swore when his body hardened. Just having her this close was enough to make him forget where they were. He couldn’t forget they were in a vulnerable situation although he couldn’t be entirely sure if it was a physical or emotional vulnerability. Either way, this was neither the time nor the place to kiss her again no matter how much he wanted to.
“Let’s go,” he growled and ushered her onto the path before she could object.
Her disorientation was the only way he could be certain that she wouldn’t try to run away, and he had to use it to his advantage in every way he could so led her quickly toward the safe house.
Poppy had little choice but to follow him. The fog added to the fear that made her jump at every shadow. It didn’t help that as they walked along, the fog would suddenly part and someone would suddenly loom toward them so swiftly that they had to dodge sideways to avoid bumping into them. Thankfully, none of the people who appeared were Clarence, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t around somewhere. She knew that if she had been alone she would have collapsed in a quivering heap by now, and she was suddenly immensely grateful that he had followed her, and he was right beside her.
“Luke,” she whispered, desperate to ask him where they were going.
“Shh,” he replied. He paused only long enough to listen for carriages before he guided her carefully across the road. Silence remained with them as they made the journey through the confusing myriad of streets that eventually led them to a quiet, middle-class residential area.
“Look, thank you for your help but I demand to know where we are,” Poppy gasped. She was becoming fearful of where he intended to take her. When he didn’t answer she slammed to a stop in the middle of the pavement and yanked her hand out of his, determined that she wasn’t going to take another step until he answered at least one of her questions. Aware that the more they walked the quieter their surroundings had become, she realised just how vulnerable a position she was putting herself in by blindly following him anywhere.