Page 28 of Dark Embrace

She pressed her lips together, disconcerted by hispraise.

“And how did you learn to wield your cudgel well?” heasked.

“Perhaps I do not wield it well,”Sarahsaid.

“Perhaps. But the way you hold it suggestsotherwise.”

“Do you know a great deal about cudgels?” sheasked.

“Less than you, I suspect.” His smile widened to a grin, white teeth and a dimple in his cheek. “Whotaughtyou?”

His smile lured her to smile back, even as she wondered at this odd conversation they were having in the middle of Coptic Street on a sharp, frigidnight.

“My landlady. She stuffed a sack with rags and made me hit it until she wassatisfied.”

“I see. A formidable woman, yourlandlady?”

Sarah thought of Mrs. Cowden who was shorter than Sarah by several inches, who had survived the deaths of three children and her husband, who rented rooms to those in need, who taught a naïve young woman how to protect herself, and she said, “Formidable, indeed.” She paused then asked again, “What are youdoinghere?”

“Waiting.Foryou.”

“Why?” Sarah stared at him. “And how did you know where tofindme?”

The wind picked up, snatching at her cloak, her hair, making her shiver. Killian took note of that and glanced about, his attention turning to the lodginghouse.

“You are cold. Perhaps we might take this conversation inside to the parlor. You will be morecomfortable.”

She noticed that he made no mention of his own discomfort in the chillynight.

“The parlor?” She laughed at that. Oh, that he thought she lived in such a fine place—the expectation of a parlor—was both funny and sad. “On the ground floor are the kitchen and the dining room and the landlady’s rooms. The first and second floors are all to let. There is noparlor.”

Reaching up, he drew off his spectacles, and she was struck again by the beauty of his eyes, silvery gray against the thick sweep of dark goldlashes.

“Then we may take this conversation to the roomyourent.”

“I take a very small room from Mrs. Cowden,” she demurred, struck by the image of him, tall and masculine, filling the tiny space of her chamber. Standing beside her narrow bed. The thought made her breath catch because he had been there before, many times over, but only in her dreams and imaginings. To have him there in truth would be both daunting and alluring. “There is not even a sitting room. I cannot have you come in at this hour of the night, Mr.Thayne.”

“Killian,” he murmured absently, his gaze sliding to the front of the house. The brick was dirty and the yard ill kept. Mrs. Cowden was anything but house proud, her fondness for gin overtaking her fondness for anything else. Sarah felt absurdly unveiled to have him study the house with such careful regard. “You must call meKillian.”

Killian.She dared not say his name aloud, lest he read her secret longings in the way her lips shaped and caressed thesyllables.

“I am going inside now, where it is warm—” an untruth, for though it would be sweltering hot next to the kitchen fire, the remainder of the house was bound to be little warmer than the brutal climes she was subject to outdoors “—and where I hope Mrs. Cowden has kept a plate for me. Whatever you wished to discuss will have to wait for the morrow. At the hospital.” She frowned. “Howdidyoufindme?”

Again, he looked to the street, his gaze alert. The focused intensity of his perusal was enough to stoke the embers of her unease. She tried to see what he saw but could make out only the shapes of the neighboringhouses.

“Does it matter?” he asked without looking at her. “I amherenow.”

“Yes. Itmatters.”

He glanced at her then returned his attention to the road. “Matron keeps a writtenrecord.”

She almost expressed her surprise that the matron had shared such information. Then she realized he had not said she had. He had only said she kept a record. Had Killian searched the matron’s office without her knowledge? Hewouldn’tdare.

Oh, but hewould.

Killian’s head whipped to the side, his attention focused, his nostrils flared. “The man who follows you…what didyousee?”

Sarah stared into the darkness, unable to find the target of his attention. The street was empty save for the two of them, houses rising on either side. “Sometimes I saw a man-shaped shadow. Sometimes I heard footsteps. Tonight, I saw him, a shape, a form, indistinct. He wore a hat that hid his face…” She shook her head, then spun to her right, an eerie sensation crawling acrossherskin.