by Rebecca King
Now what? He thought, aware that Chadwick was getting further and further away with each minute Barnaby lingered on the balcony. It took more determination than he thought he would ever need to eventually break off the kiss and set her away from him.
Rose gasped, her lips throbbing. She stared up at him, completely lost for words. When she opened her mouth to speak whatever she had intended to say, and she had no idea what she had wanted to tell him, suddenly disappeared. Her mind was too sluggish to comprehend anything other than the fact that he was breathtakingly handsome. Tall, dark haired, intriguing eyes that were almost hypnotic, especially this close, he was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome stranger, and he had just kissed her. Her. Rose Higginbotham, right there and then on the balcony.
Her heart thundered at the same time that she struggled to comprehend the last several moments. It felt as though she had stepped into some surreal dream - or nightmare where nothing made sense.
“Don’t scream, and don’t move, and he won’t see you,” the stranger growled darkly. “If you do anything stupid, he will shoot us both.”
In that heartbeat, the haze of desire clouding Rose’s thoughts evaporated and was brutally replaced with the stark reality of her situation. The wonderfully warming sensations she had experienced just a few seconds ago might have been a figment of her imagination now. She touched her lips with tentative fingers. They were still tingling so she couldn’t have imagined it. The man had truly stepped out of nowhere, appeared right before her, and kissed her soundly as though his very life depended on it. Of course, in a warped way it did, and that realisation stole all the preciousness out of the occasion of her first true kiss.
Glaring at him, Rose made no attempt to keep her voice down when she demanded: “What do you think you are doing?”
“Shut up,” Barnaby growled.
“I beg your-”
Whatever else she was going to say was swiftly silenced by the return of his lips. This time she was determined not to be thwarted so easily and placed her hands firmly on his chest. However, once her chilled fingers touched the hard, warm muscles beneath the fine material of his shirt, everything she had intended to do and say was completely forgotten again. Rather than push that solid wall of masculine chest, her fingers clung to the material, holding him in place while she succumbed to his embrace once more.
Damn it, does she have to give in every time? Barnaby thought.
He mentally cursed his own stupidity. To do this once was foolish enough, especially given that he now suspected that she had never had a suitor in her life before. To kiss her for a second time with a ballroom full of people just a few steps away was nothing short of suicide; suicide to his masculinity and his single life of bachelorhood that is. There was no early possibility he was going to give that up, especially for a woman no matter how beautiful she was. However, keeping some distance between them was proving impossible.
As he changed the angle of the kiss and prepared to step back, he felt her instinctive hesitation.
Good Lord, what’s wrong with the men in this area? Barnaby mused.
It was clear that she had hardly ever been kissed before - if ever. It made him contemplate what her likely response would be when he finally did manage to put some distance between them. Would she be an outraged virgin? Or a simpering maiden expecting more than he could offer? Or, worse, a screeching banshee demanding his was horse-whipped for taking liberties?
Lifting his head abruptly, he glared down at her in warning.
“Keep your sodding voice down,” he commanded. He lifted a single finger and placed it firmly over her lips when she opened her mouth to speak. “Do you want to be his third victim?”
Rose gazed up at him with wide eyes. She slowly shook her head from side to side.
Of course I don’t want to be his third victim you fool, what kind of idiot do you take me for? Her inner voice scolded.
Outwardly she remained mute and stared at him while she tried to decide whether to scream for help or not. It was wrong to allow him to keep kissing her, even though it felt so right. She couldn’t trust this man. She had no idea where he had come from. When she had stepped out onto the balcony there had been nobody around, but he must have been somewhere. Had he been hiding? The thought made her shudder. To think that he had been watching her watching the men in the yard, and she hadn’t been aware of him, brought forth a sense of vulnerability she had never experienced before - or ever wanted to feel again for that matter.
Barnaby mentally swore when she glanced worriedly at the door leading into the ballroom.
“You cannot go back in there,” he warned, sensing the direction of her thoughts.
“I have to,” Rose protested huskily. “People will be looking for me.”
Barnaby snorted. He suspected that if someone was going to come looking for her, they would have done so at any point over the last hour while she had been outside all alone.
“I need you to stay calm, keep quiet and don’t make any sudden moves.” Barnaby made no attempt to keep the harshness out of his voice as he gave her orders. He didn’t wait for her to nod her agreement either. When she stood perfectly still, and continued to stare at him, Barnaby cautiously lifted his finger.
Rose couldn’t think beyond the stunned disbelief that stole her ability to make any kind of decision whatsoever. Unsure what to do, she decided to assess how much danger she was truly in, and whether this man before her was making it all up when in fact he posed more of a danger to her than anyone else. When she managed to see over his shoulder, however, she rather wished she hadn’t.
“Oh, good Lord,” she whispered.
There, in the entrance of the coal yard, staring straight up at them was the man she had once, stupidly, believed was the innocent Mr Morley, victim of two mindless thugs.
“Can you see him?” Barnaby asked calmly.
Rose swallowed.
“Don’t nod. Just look at him surreptitiously if you can over my shoulder and tell me what you see,” Barnaby murmured quietly.
Rose swallowed past the dryness in her throat. Her stomach began to churn, but she wasn’t hungry. She was nervous and felt sick with dread. The trustworthiness of the man with his arms currently wrapped was now insignificant. She was glad he was there, not least because he was the only thing holding her upright right now. If he moved, she was going to collapse into a quivering heap on the ground she just knew it.
“Is he there?” Barnaby prompted when she didn’t speak.
Rose nodded and then glanced at him when she remembered what he had said.
“Yes,” she whispered. “He is standing in the entrance to the yard staring at us.”
“If you scream, he will shoot you where you stand,” Barnaby breathed. “We are going to stay calm and keep our heads together and pretend we are a courting couple.”
“Courting couples don’t do this,” Rose protested. She didn’t really know because nobody had ever showed her this much attention before.
Barnaby lifted is brows at her. “Says who?”
Rose felt her cheeks heat and didn’t answer. The last thing she could do was admit to him that he was the first man who had actually seen her as a woman. Although, now that she came to think about it, even he hadn’t done that. He was kissing her purely as a ruse, nothing more.
Another crushing blow. Rose sighed but before she could think of what to say, the man before her began to speak.
“Chadwick doesn’t know that we have not just had a lover’s tryst on the balcony. He has no idea that we have been watching him, and we are not going to let him know that we have witnessed anything untoward. Stay close to me, don’t move too quickly, and keep your gaze away from him. Do you understand?”
“Chadwick?” Rose whispered nervously.
“He is the man you have just witnessed kill those two men in cold blood,” Barnaby informed her.
Rose closed her eyes as a wave of mortification swept through her. How quickly she had fo
rgotten the brutal murders of two individuals and succumbed to the needs of the flesh.
“Are you alright?” he murmured when he saw her blanch.
Rose nodded. Outwardly her face betrayed no trace of the emotions coursing through her. Inwardly she was sternly chastising herself for having forgotten about what she had witnessed. She had been too busy daring to think – hope – that this man, this stranger, rather quite liked her.
Don’t be stupid, her inner voice scoffed daringly. He is far beyond your reach and you know it. He is handsome, debonair, if a little dangerous. You are plain and ordinary, and if mother is right, far too rounded in the backside for your own good.
Guiltily, Rose glance down at her curves and sighed. At the moment, her feminine inadequacies were insignificant, and now was not the time to think about them in more detail. She had just witnessed two men being killed in cold blood and she couldn’t get distracted from that. What the killer was going to do next was considerably more important than how wide her hips were and whether men found them attractive.
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted in a shaken whisper.
Barnaby sympathised. He had been in this kind of situation on more than one occasion in the past. It wasn’t anything too unusual for him given his line of work. However, to someone like Rose, it was a massive shock to her delicate sensibilities, and he had to keep that in mind at all costs if he wanted her total compliance in what they were about to do.
“All he can see is our heads together when we stand like this. He will think we are nothing more than lovers making use of the darkness. We are not going to correct him about that misapprehension by doing anything rash. Do you understand me?”
Rose nodded jerkily.
“Can you still see him?” Barnaby murmured for her ears only.
Rose took another cautious peek over his shoulder, but this time there was no sign of Chadwick.
“Is that his name? Chadwick? And no, I don’t see him.”
Barnaby sighed. He had no intention of furnishing her with any information. He wanted her to answer his questions.
“We are going to turn around and walk back inside, but very slowly. Put your arm through mine as we go so we look like lovers wandering back to the ball. He has no reason to suspect anything.”
“He has just been staring at us,” Rose protested, knowing deep inside that this was never going to work. Someone was going to see them – one of the awful gossips inside, maybe. Then she would go from being the one person in the room everyone ignored to the person everyone gossiped about, but she had no choice but to go along with his suggestion. If she managed to get back inside without stumbling across the gunman, then she was happy to go with him – for now. Once they were inside, though, matters would be different.
Barnaby sighed heavily. Picking her hand up, he slapped it on his arm and glared down at her.
“Just do as I say and we will get out of here without being shot at. Of course, you can take your bloody chances and go your own way, but he is a better shot than you are a runner. You won’t reach that door before you get struck down,” Barnaby snapped.
“You don’t have to swear,” Rose scolded. She had no idea where the admonishment came from. It had been the last thing she had been thinking. It had come out of nowhere and had surprised her as much as it annoyed him.
Barnaby glared at her. “Look, you might want to stand out here chatting all night but I would prefer to get somewhere a little safer. Preferably somewhere I won’t get shot. Now, are you going to do as I ask or shall I leave you out here for him to pick off at will?”
Rose stared at him. “I want to go inside,” she whispered.
“Good. Then do as I say,” Barnaby began. “Once we are off this balcony, you are going to have to come with me. If you alert anybody about what you have seen the room with erupt into chaos. A man like the killer is going to take advantage of that. If you wish everybody inside to stay safe, keep your head down, move slowly, and do not stop for anything.”
“I can’t go anywhere with you,” Rose protested, horrified at the thought. Having just witnessed two men being slaughtered she wasn’t going to just hand herself over to a random stranger, even one as handsome and daring as this one.
“You have to,” Barnaby said flatly.
“Where did you come from?” She pinned him with a suspicious glare.
Barnaby sighed and dug deep for his patience. “I am not going to discuss that with you now. Just move.”
He saw no reason to tell her that he had been following Albert Chadwick for several weeks now. Chadwick was a street fighter of the worst kind. He didn’t just fight until his opponent hit the ground, he fought to the death. Albert was so ruthless that he put an entirely different meaning to the phrase ‘down and out’. Most of the people who crossed him never lived to see another day. Barnaby wondered whether to tell her all of that but the thought of sending her into a fit of hysterics was enough to stop him. Information on Chadwick would be passed on to her later if needed. It was important that he keep at least one bargaining chip to one side to use should she balk at an order in the future.
“Damn it all to Hell, let’s go,” he growled.
Rose dug her heels in when he began to propel her toward the door. It was ridiculous really because being inside was considerably safer than spending another second alone with this man. It was where she had wanted to be only a few minutes ago. Now that she had to face the prospect of being forced there by this handsome stranger she wanted to protest against it and remain on the balcony.
“Let go of me,” she protested. She tried to prise his hand off her elbow but was forcibly pushed to the door anyway.
“Move,” Barnaby bit off a curse when she struggled against him with surprising strength.
He didn’t know what the hell she was stalling for, but he wasn’t going to stick his arse to the wind for a second longer than he absolutely had to. It would be him who got shot if Chadwick decided to stop them now. He wasn’t going to risk it for some recalcitrant female. Yanking the door open he stood back to allow her to precede him into the room. Before he closed it behind him he glanced at the coal yard. The bodies remained untouched. There was no sign of Chadwick. He hadn’t run though. He had moved down the street and now stood in the shadows directly opposite the ballroom staring up at him. Aware that the woman was likely to disappear if he didn’t hurry, Barnaby closed the door and went to join her.
“This way,” Barnaby growled as he forged a path through the seething mass of people, tugging the woman behind him.
Rose tried to make her way to the far corner of the room, in completely the opposite direction to the one the stranger wanted her to go, but he caught her wrist in a tight hold and hauled her against him. Using the press of bodies around them to hold her still, he practically dragged her toward the main entrance.
“I am not going with you,” Rose protested.
“You have to come with me,” he growled. “Remember what just happened.”
Rose glanced frantically around the room, desperately seeking out a familiar face whose attention she could capture.
Now where is Mrs Axelby when you need her? Rose thought waspishly as she studied the sea of unfamiliar faces, none of which were paying her the slightest bit of attention still.
“My parents are over there,” Rose whispered urgently, pointing in the vague direction of where her parents had been sitting. “I will be perfectly safe with them.”
“No, you will not,” Barnaby argued. “If that man sees you, even with your parents, all three of you are going to end up dead. If you wish them to remain safe, you must come with me now.”
“I am not coming with you,” Rose protested.
“You must,” Barnaby growled. He slid an arm around her waist and practically carried her across the room toward the double doors that took them outside.
Pressed as tightly against his side as she was, Rose had little choice but to move her legs in a rough parody of a walk
. In reality, her toes barely touched the ground. She was solely reliant upon him to get her across the room, which he did. His strength astonished her, especially when he ploughed his way through the guests and reached the door in half the time it would have taken her. To her disgust, not one of the assembled guests attempted to stop them. Most of them were already in their cups. Those who weren’t were either too deep in conversation, or too busy eating to even bother to look at her. Because of that, Rose was swept out of the rooms without issue, and propelled out onto the street without a token protest from anyone. It was horrifying. It was mortifying. It was galling that it had been so simple to spirit her away right out from under the noses of so many people.
“I can’t do this,” she gasped.
“You must. There is no choice,” Barnaby snapped, hauling her forward when she slammed to a stop in the middle of the road.
“I am not coming with you,” she protested.
She glanced back at the rooms, shocked to see realise how far away they now were. The music had faded, and there was now just the two of them surrounded in darkness. A sense of vulnerable isolation settled around her that rendered her weakened and doubtful of everything. Determined not to allow the awful feeling to grow, Rose snatched her arm away from his when he tried to drag her further down the street.
“I said NO!” she shouted.
Barnaby ignored her and tried to push her into walking only for her to dig her dainty dancing slippers into the cobbles and rebel.
“Let me go,” she snapped loudly.
“Damn it all to Hell,” Barnaby growled in answer.
With no other option, he ducked down, swept her over his shoulder, and stalked down the street.
CHAPTER THREE
With few options available to her, Rose opened her mouth and screamed as loudly as she could.
“Will you shut up!” Barnaby commanded.
He was so coldly furious that he almost relished the prospect of Albert Chadwick appearing before them. As far as he was concerned, if the woman hadn’t just watched the man kill two men, Albert Chadwick was welcome to the stubborn wench. As it was, she was now the only witness, except for himself, that the Star Elite had to the murders of two men, both of whom it was suspected belonged to Sayers’ gang.