Page 10

For only by the jostlings of equality can we form a just opinion of ourselves.

—Mary Wollstonecraft

Oh, damn and blast.

I was so going to be trounced. That didn’t even sound like a boy…it’d sounded like a man. A grown man with probably more facial hair than the sparse beard I sported, and most likely a big, skilled, ham-faced giant of a brute who would carve me from chin to navel without blinking an eye. My breaths shortened to shallow pants as the crowd parted to let through my adversary, but I couldn’t see with the gaslit lamps shining into the ring and obscuring my vision. Even when I squinted, I could only detect movements and shadows.

My palms were slick with sweat on the hilt of the thin sword. I glanced to where Greer, Nori, and Lalita stood, registering the identical expressions on their faces with a frown. They looked…aghast. Dread filled me. Oh, dear God, was he huge? Did he look like he was going to cut me into tiny pieces? All of a sudden, it felt like I had bitten off more than I could chew. But only when he came to the edge of the ring did I feel my heart sink to the very soles of my feet, and the dread in my stomach turned into full-blown panic.

Rafi.

And by his expression, he knew it was me. The recognition—and fury—were both written all over him as he prowled toward me in the ring. Someone handed him an épée of his own, and he swung it lazily to one side in a practiced hand. Oh, dear heavens. I could not possibly be pitted against him in a duel. I barely heard the round of cheering that reached the rafters. All I could see was him.

The director asked for his name and Rafi hissed a reply through his teeth. A shiver wound through me. Goodness, he was irate.

“Night versus Nasser,” the man roared. “Place your bets, my friends. Don’t underestimate the small one. First blood wins.” He left the ring, and that same starting gong echoed through the space. Everything fell away but the man facing me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as Rafi and I circled each other. He didn’t answer, only quirked a thick, dark brow, his mouth pulled into an unforgiving, flat line. He thrust his weapon toward me, and I automatically parried with a block. It wasn’t an aggressive strike, but the quickness of it made me catch my breath.

It couldn’t be a coincidence that he was here…or had volunteered to duel. What were the chances that on yet another Lady Knight outing he would be in the same place at the same time as us? Suspicion bled through my panic. A thought occurred to me, and I felt my brows slam together. “Did you follow us here?” I demanded.

A muscle pulsed in his jaw as that dark silver gaze bored into mine. “What do you think? That this rathole is a place I would willingly frequent? I’ve had someone making sure you were safe since Midnight Row…whenever I could not.” My stomach warmed for no reason at all, but then Rafi’s slitted stare took in the space full of churlish, bellowing spectators. “This is beyond reckless, even for you.”

Warm feelings dashed, I resented the disparaging way Rafi addressed me as if he had any right to judge my actions. I wasn’t his to defend or protect, even if he was doing it out of some pitiful obligation to my brother. I didn’t want his overbearing opinions smothering me. “It’s harmless fun, Mr. Nasser,” I bit out, echoing my earlier sentiment.

“Harmless?” he snapped, sword thrusting in a ruthless lunge.

On the defensive, I reared back, feet dancing out of his path as I spun and swung to meet his blade. My weapon crashed into his, the force reverberating up my arm, but I relished the strength of the strike. I followed with another series of upward slashes, forcing him back. Those gray eyes widened as his anger was swapped with the sudden need to focus. I let the smile curl my lips.

Oh, yes, I wanted first blood.

“Didn’t think I could fence?” I taunted, launching another round of flashy, rapid thrusts. “You should recognize the style. After all, my brother hands you your pride every time you spar, doesn’t he?”

“Ridley taught you?”

I winked. “The pen can be mightier than the sword, but only if the latter isn’t in a woman’s grip.”

His lips twitched. “Cocky.”

“I know my skill.”

Setting my teeth, I lunged toward him, and the next handful of minutes were a fraught sequence of attacking and retreating as our blades collided over and over. Rafi was competent, but I could sense that he was holding back to be gentlemanly and didn’t want to hurt me. It was an advantage I would not ignore. It wasn’t my fault that his misplaced chivalry didn’t belong in this ring. I had wanted to teach him a lesson by toying with him, but I was finished playing around. And besides, the sweat on my face was loosening the glue that held my beard in place.

With a sly grin, I whirled and flicked my épée with a flourish, performing for the crowd as I lifted my left hand and beckoned Rafi forward. It was a cheeky move, one that had the mob roaring with approval. Thunderous shouts met my ears, and I caught sight of my friends’ slack-jawed expressions. I supposed they hadn’t ever seen me fence before.

Not one to be cowed by my showmanship, Rafi arched an amused brow and went on the attack. I held him off easily and then went in close so that he could not swing his weapon. The position meant that I couldn’t, either, but I wasn’t there for a strike; I was there to goad. “You always underestimate me, Mr. Nasser.”

“I’m seeing that,” he said. “You’re very good.”

Those gray eyes glinted with a flash of something other than amusement. Admiration? Awe? Both pleased me more than they should. My stare dropped to his mouth, and my knees gave an unnatural wobble. His usual crooked smirk conspicuously absent, his lips were full and soft. I wanted to surge to my tiptoes and see how they tasted.

Where the devil had that thought come from? I didn’t want to taste him. I didn’t want to do anything of the sort! Cheeks burning, I dragged my eyes away before I did something reckless…like kiss him in a room full of strangers, and then possibly lose the facial hair that was hanging on by a thread. But Rafi loomed closer, crowding me with his towering height as if he could sense my momentary weakness and sought to take advantage.

My pulse hummed. I wanted him to take advantage…to fling me over his shoulder and ferry me away as though I were an unruly shield-maiden in need of a firm hand. Oh, good gracious, Mary Wollstonecraft would turn in her grave if she could read my mind. I had to cut back on the penny Viking romances. A hysterical giggle ripped from my throat just as I threw my elbow to catch Rafi in the stomach, flicked my épée high, and swiveled out of the almost-embrace, nearly losing my footing in the process.

“Something funny, Mr. Night?” Rafi asked in a thickened voice, and then frowned as if something strange had occurred to him, but his attention snapped to me when I lunged toward him. The harsh clash of metal followed as we renewed our dance for a handful of ferocious seconds.

I narrowed my eyes. What had he been thinking then? Had he wanted to kiss me, too?

Enough, Zia.

“I just find it comical that you think you can best me,” I boasted.

His steps quickened, forcing me into an indefensible position against the ropes. “See? You’re good, but you’re not that good.”

“I beg to differ, sir.” I grinned and pointed the tip of my weapon with a cool lift of my chin. “You’ve lost, and you don’t even realize it. You really should get some medical attention for that cut.”

His brows drew together as he slowed and lifted his fingertips to the side of his neck. When they came away wet and red, disbelief ran through his expression. “When? How?”

I could see him running through the entire match in his head, trying to find the exact moment when I’d bested him and earned first blood. He let out a huff as he did and answered his own question. “When you elbowed me in the belly,” he deduced. “Tricky. Good thing we aren’t in a proper gentlemen’s club, or you would face disqualification with that move.”

Scoffing, I gave a mocking bow that was worthy of the royal court. “Make no mistake, I could trounce you soundly there, too.” I winked. “Too bad you don’t allow women. Men’s pride would take a necessary beating. Perhaps I should fashion a Trojan horse, infiltrate your manly fortress, and raze all bias to the ground.”

A low laugh left him. “With you at its helm, I don’t doubt in the least that you could.”

“And the winner is Mr. Night!” the director announced. Rafi canted his head in rueful acquiescence as the crowd went absolutely feral.

Once more, the underdog had triumphed. We both gave courteous bows to each other, and I felt something slide against my neck but paid it no mind. I was too busy gloating at the win and waving at the crowd to notice Rafi’s suddenly thunderous expression as his eyes fastened to my waistcoat. Following his gaze, I glanced down and felt the blood drain from my body at the sight of the gold chain that had shifted loose and its makeshift pendant…his signet ring.

Fool, fool, fool.

“Where did you get that?” he asked.

A dozen suppositions ran through his gaze, and it would not be long before he came to the right one. In utter panic, I dropped the épée, turned, and ran.

“Wait!” he thundered over the noise of the crowd, but the knowledge in his voice made the hairs on my nape stand.

When I reached my friends, they tried to embrace me for the win but stopped at the look on my face. “We need to go. Now. ”

Greer balked. “What? Why? We still need to collect our winnings.”

“Leave them,” I gasped, winded at the effort of pushing through so many bodies, my heart racing at the thought of Rafi catching up and demanding answers. Ones that weren’t a simple matter of sneaking into a gaming hell or participating in illegal horse racing or dressing in disguise at a boys’ club. We’d stolen from him. I’d taken his family heirloom, and though I’d vowed to find a way to return it with him none the wiser, I simply hadn’t done it. The small piece of him had become too precious to give up.

And now my silly desire would be my downfall.

Our downfall. I wasn’t alone in my crimes.

“I’ll get our earnings. Bellevue could always use the money to buy books for the children, or we could donate it to other orphanages,” Nori said with a determined look. “You go on ahead. I’ll find my own way home.”

I glanced over my shoulder, but Rafi wasn’t in sight. “Are you certain?”

“Yes,” she said. “We earned this fair and square.”

“Very well, be safe!”

But as rotten luck would have it, as we tried to head for the exit, chaos exploded as a team of Runners infiltrated the place. People shouted and ran in all directions. Dozens of bodies shoved at me in an uncontrollable river, and I found myself separated from Greer and Lalita as the throng bore me away. Greer’s dismayed expression crashed into mine, and I sent her a reassuring glance, despite my own screaming distress.

“I’ll meet you outside,” I shouted, hoping she could hear over the din. “Outside! Find Brennan!” When she nodded, I let out a breath of relief.

Thankfully—as small as those thanks were—in the melee, Rafi was nowhere to be seen. Escaping capture by the Runners was the goal now. Shoving and swimming through the sea of unwashed bodies, I felt my poor beard finally give up the ghost. But everyone was in too much of an uproar to pay attention tome.

Keeping my head down, I moved forward with dogged resolve. I caught sight of the director running toward what might be a back exit. Instinct made me follow. The Runners were likely at the front, though that didn’t stop the horde from pushing in that direction. With each step, I gained ground toward where the man had disappeared. Escape was so close! With a last burst of strength, I pushed through the tide and screamed with joy. A joy that fizzled as quickly as it had erupted.

“Going somewhere?” Rafi drawled.

My heart dropped to my toes. How did he keep finding me so fast? Perhaps I could feign my way out of being in possession of his property. After all, he had no idea how I could have come upon the ring. I could have purchased it at a pawnbroker’s shop or found it in the street. The lie was flimsy at best, but I didn’t only have my own skin to protect.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I need to get to my friends. Nori got separated from us. I have to find her. Can you help me? And then I promise I will answer your questions.”

He cocked his head, studying me like he would a dangerous sample under a microscope. “The man I hired to follow you is with them. He’ll put the three of them in your coach before more Runners arrive,” he said. “Don’t worry, they are safe and will be on their way home.”

Despite my own predicament, I exhaled gratefully, my breath seizing when he caught hold of my elbow and steered me down the narrow hallway to what was indeed a rear exit into an alley. “You and I, however, are going to have a little chat.”

“Rafi, I have to get home,” I said in a wobbly voice, not entirely unwilling to use his given name or even tears to get my way. The advancement of female rights would not save my friends in this moment.

“I’ll see you there,” he said. “ After we talk.”

He gripped my arm firmly as we emerged on a street parallel to the one we’d entered earlier, and he hurried us toward a plain dark carriage. I faltered, considering whether I could make a run for it. Seven Dials was a warren of narrow streets that someone could easily vanish in. I was fast, I could do it. But despair sank in as I considered the consequences if I did.

This wasn’t a safe part of London, and a necessary part of my disguise had been lost. Without facial hair, I couldn’t hide the very delicate slope of my jaw or the plumpness of my lips. If my hat went, my hair would be a dead giveaway. No good could come of me fleeing…not here in a den of thieves and criminals. I was between a rock and a hard place, and facing Rafi’s certain wrath was hardly the better of the two choices.

Botheration, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get in a coach with him.

I half turned before that grip on my arm tightened, his voice slicing between us. “Don’t even think about it, Zia.”

He practically lifted and bodily tossed me into the carriage before climbing in behind me and instructing the coachman to take us the long way to Mayfair. Cramming myself back onto the velvet squabs of the bench, I saw him take the space opposite and lean forward with his elbows propped on his knees. His gaze bore through the fabric of my waistcoat, the ring burning a hole in my chest through my shirt. “Where did you get the ring?” he demanded in a low, curt tone, not wasting a single second.

“It’s Keston’s,” I blurted, and faked a confused look.

“Is that so?” he asked, leaning back with a contemplative expression. I nodded. “Why did you run when I saw it? Surely your brother’s ring would not cause such a panic?”

“I…” My brain went blank. My fingers curled into my breeches and dug into my thighs. His gaze followed the movement, and a sharp exhale left him. In horror, I realized that the sitting position had made my coat ride up and pulled the fabric of my breeches tight against my legs, exposing their length and shape. But I was a fool if I thought that that would be enough to distract Rafi.

His jaw tightened as he lifted that saturnine stare to mine once more. “Speak.”

Inspiration hit. “I didn’t leave because of the ring. I saw the Runners,” I blurted out. “Anyone would. I couldn’t exactly risk being discovered.”

“Show me the ring, Zia,” he said after a long moment.

I clutched a hand to my chest. “I cannot. That’s personal.”

“Why? Ridley is my friend. He would not care if I had a look at it. What are you hiding?” Rafi’s voice lowered to a taunting rasp that arrowed to places on my body that should not be mentioned in proper company. “Is it a lover’s?”

“How dare you?” I snapped, wide-eyed at the insult. “And besides, even if it were, that’s none of your deuced business.”

As if some invisible line had been crossed, he canted his head, eyes flashing with irritation. He crossed one booted foot over his knee, the epitome of relaxed elegance, though I knew that he was more of a cobra waiting to strike than a gentleman who would entertain my ladylike foibles. “We can ride around London all night, if that is your wish.”

“My parents think I’m at a musicale with Lady Ela,” I said. “They will worry.”

He nodded. “That they will.”

My bluster seeping away, I could see by the stubborn set of his jaw that he would do exactly what he threatened with no thought to those consequences. Not even propriety could save me now…not that there was any room in this situation for decorum.

Rafi leaned forward. “You either show it to me yourself, or I take it off you. Your choice, my lady.”

I gasped in unfeigned outrage, though something delicious unwound through me at the wicked promise spoken in his whisper. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would. Don’t test me, Firefly.”

A mortifying heat scorched my cheeks as my heart thundered behind my rib cage. “My name is Zia, you lout!”

His lip curled in that hateful smirk. “Not Mr. Night? Or should I say Lady Night?”

Silence detonated between us as the impact of those last two words settled like ash in the wake of a lethal explosion. I froze as unbelieving silver eyes crashed into mine, searching for answers that he thought were absurd. Preposterous, even.

“Fine,” I said in desperation, reaching up to unfasten the clasp. “Take it. I don’t know what you even care. It’s a silly man’s ring one of the maids found in the billiards room. The way you’re behaving, it’s like you think it’s yours or something.”

Rafi didn’t even blink as the necklace and ring ended up on his lap. His eyes remained on mine like he was a predator with a fascinating prey in his sights. The image of a motionless cobra returned to my brain, and I gulped.

“Lady. Knight.” The two words were soft, though they sank into me like lead shot. I flinched at the impact. “ Knight with a K. Bloody hell.” His nostrils flared as he inhaled, and I instinctively leaned back. “It was you that evening in Hounslow Heath.”

If I could have thrown myself from the carriage without risk of death, I would have. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said stubbornly.

“It was the name you gave that night as you stole our belongings at gunpoint.” He lifted the ring that was still warm from my body and clasped it in a large, tight fist. “You took this from me, and you smelled like orange blossoms.”

I clamped my lips shut. I knew that fragrance would return like a vengeful phantom insistent on my destruction. I’d stopped using the oils in my bath as a paranoid precaution, but perhaps Rafi had noticed my scent a long time ago, which made my efforts moot. A slow, irrational warmth dissipated through me. When had he noticed my scent? Why had he remembered such an intimate part of me?

“What were you thinking, Zia?” he snarled. “I know it was you, don’t even try to pretend or prevaricate.” He snapped his teeth in frustration as those hard eyes canvassed me from head to toe, a muscle drumming wildly in his cheek. “I should have recognized you! But why would the daughter of a duke be out on a notorious highwayman route in the middle of the night? Stealing from people with a rifle, of all things!”

My eyes shot skyward at his histrionics. “Don’t get your smallclothes into a bunch.”

“My smallclothes…,” he sputtered, his handsome face going ruddy with aggravation. That jaw of his flattened into a stiff, uncompromising line, making his cheekbones stand out as he glowered at me. Heavens, even in the throes of vexation, those exquisitely sharp features took on a mesmerizing cast. Inky tousled hair tumbled around his face from our run through the streets, and my fingers itched to put those silky tendrils to rights. Rafi Nasser was gorgeous at the best of times, but like this… so wondrously unraveled, he took my breath away.

“How could you be so rash? Have you not a single sensible thought for your own safety?” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, long eyelashes dipping down to cast shadows on his face in the guttering lamplight of the coach. An irritated growl broke from him. “Devil take it, Zia, you make me want to…tear my bloody hair out!”

Silver irises glittered, his upper lip ferocious off white teeth in a snarl. He resembled a wild, savage wolf whose den had been trespassed upon. A wolf that didn’t know whether to mark its territory or snatch me up for dinner. At that, a throb pulsed deep in my chest. Too hot for comfort, I threw off my hat and yanked off the crudely tied cravat around my neck.

“Is this a joke to you?” he demanded, glaring at me, and for once, my instincts took note of the fact that the gentleman sitting opposite who did not find my harmless antics amusing in the least was nearing the end of his rope.

“The rifle was empty, for heaven’s sake, I lied,” I grumbled with a long-suffering sigh as the coach came to a shuddering stop at our destination in Mayfair. With the safety of my home in sights and steps away, I lifted my chin, moving to open the coach door. “You are overreacting. I’m alive and well, aren’t I?”

I nearly shrieked when he pitched forward, trapping me, his eyes narrowed and the rich scent of him crowding my nostrils as if I didn’t have enough sensory overload to deal with already. One arm was braced on the top of the bench, the other against the side of the carriage. “And what if someone had pulled a pistol on you? How would you have defended yourself with an empty weapon? Did you think about that?”

“Well, they didn’t,” I said mulishly. “ You didn’t.”

I saw the exact moment that Rafi lost the brittle hold on his temper, those pretty eyes promising retribution as a low feral sound rumbled in his chest. Every hair on my body stood on end in the cramped space of that coach with him looming over me like a vengeful god. He was close enough to kiss.

“You are… argh, I cannot…”

In helpless supplication, like a silly, silly moth, I leaned forward. I wet my lips, his words faltering at my all-too-obvious invitation. With a groan, he hesitated the scantest of moments before his mouth swooped down, crashing into mine.