Page 21 of Dark Embrace

Only when she turned and reached for the supplies that she had set on the shelf did she see a brilliant white handkerchief atop the pile, the four corners drawn together and tied inaknot.

“How…?” Somehow, Killian had put this here without her noticing. She untied the knot and the corners fell away, revealing an elaborate “T” embroidered in one corner, the pristine linen stained by grease from a golden pasty neatly aligned in the center of the square, the edges of the dough crimped, the scent of meat and pepper and potato tickling hersenses.

She broke off a corner and popped it in her mouth, the flavors bursting on her tongue. She ate the whole pasty, one delicious bite at a time, and then folded the handkerchief, knowing she ought toreturnit.

Knowing she wouldkeepit.

8

Killian knew she was an innocent.Not in the sense that she lacked knowledge. He had every confidence that Sarah Lowell knew a great deal about both male and female anatomy and how the two fit together. But such knowledge did not equate to experience, and there shelacked.

The beast at his core stirred, pleased that she had lain withnoman.

Mine.

The thought was not in hisnature.

It is. You are a beast driven by appetites. It is in your nature to claim whatyouwant.

Then he would defy hisnature.

But there in the dim closet with the shadows playing across her skin and her lips ripe and moist, he had been hard pressed to keep his distance. Her straight, dark hair had been pinned at her nape, begging to be set free to tumble over her shoulders. He’d wanted to peel the clothes off her body and leave her only her unbound hair foradornment.

She was not beautiful by conventional standards, but he had no use for such standards. They changed with each passing decade and he had watched them come and go. To him, Sarah Lowell was more than beautiful. Her nose was small, her lips ripe, her chin stubborn. And each time he looked at her, he saw something new and wonderful. A small freckle at the corner of her lip. A slight imbalance between her right and left brow that made her face unique, expressive…perfect.

The scent of her skinintoxicatedhim.

The sweep of her lashesenthralledhim.

He wanted her with an intensity that made no sense. He wanted to pin her beneath him, take her, conquer her, mark her as his. He wanted her body. He wanted her blood, not to feed, but to bind her to him. He wanted her not merely because she was soft and smelled like flowers or because her curves were apparent and lush beneath the ugly dresses she wore or because her gaze held his without guile. He wanted her because helikedher, because he enjoyed their conversation, because he anticipated the soft huff of her laughter…and that was adanger.

It had taken iron will to touch her cheek and step away, to leave her there in the closet aching for histouch.

That was the worst of it. The knowledge that she wanted him. The knowledge that she wouldwelcomehim.

He had noright.

9

Sarah cameto work before dawn each day and walked home each night long past dusk. The sun she saw only through the grimy windows of the wards or thecorridors.

She had grown wily, careful to vary her route between her room in Coptic Street and the hospital, but every route skirted the dangerous edges of St. Giles. Twice more, she had seen a man standing by the gravestones, watching her as she entered the hospital. Not just a silhouette or a man-shaped shadow.A man. There could be no doubt now. He never approached her, never made any truly menacing move, but he was there, always there, and his presenceunnervedher.

Yesterday, she had dared to turn in his direction and take a step toward him, intending to call out to him from across the way. Her attention had forced him deeper into the gloom. Clearly, he had no wish to entertain her company, only to watch her from adistance.

A menacingconundrum.

Now, Sarah turned her attention to Elinor, who stood by her side holding a stack of clean bandages to replace the blood and pus-stained cloths that Sarah had just unwound from a dressed wound. The patient was stoic, lips pressed together in a tight line, eyes dullwithpain.

“You’re adept at that,” Elinor said. “As good as any of the sisters. As good as any of the attendants. Better, I think.” She glanced around. “But you take a risk. I think you oughtn’t. Last time—” She broke off andsighed.

Last time the matron had discovered that Sarah had tended a wound, she had lectured her about overstepping her place and Sarah had waited for the woman to dismiss her. Sarah had cautioned the patient not to divulge the fact that it was she who had removed cloth and stones and stitched the gash shut. He had not heeded her request. That the patient had recovered did nothing to sway judgment in Sarah’s favor. It had been only the arrival of Mr. Thayne who insisted he had been the one to treat the wound and Sarah had merely been a bystander that had saved her. He said the patient had been out of his head and confused. Matron had relented, but her warning to Sarah against further transgression had beenstern.

When Sarah had tried to broach the matter with Mr. Thayne, he had only shaken his head and said, “Do you think I am as adept with a needle as thefellow’swife?”

Sarah knew then that Mr. Thayne had observed her that night and chosen to stay silent. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she had shrugged and replied, “Perhaps.”

“This time is different,” Sarah said now to Elinor. “Two of the sisters are sick with the ague, and one apprentice as well. The surgeons are occupied elsewhere.” She accepted another bandage from Elinor. “Which means that I have been tasked with doing whatever needs to be done.” She shrugged. “This needs tobedone.”