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“The police do what I tell them to,” Billy said. “And don’t try to tell me the money isn’t there. It has to be—there’s no place else and everyone knows Belding made frequent visits to the deserted townhouse. I don’t think he was looking for companionship from the rats.”

“It would have been fitting,” Rafferty said. “What do you want from me, Billy?”

“Don’t be daft, man. The money, pure and simple. And you’re running out of time. Let’s say by this time on Monday you’ll have the answer, or I’ll have to do something about it myself. And I might just take a piece of that little girl as a reward.”

“Touch her and I’ll cut off your hands.”

Billy Stiles sniggered. “Have you fallen in love, old sod? How the mighty have fallen! I never thought to see the time when the cold-blooded Rafferty was brought low by a pretty girl. And I gather she’s not even the beauty of the family. Your standards are falling.”

“You can have the beauty,” he said without a moment’s hesitation. “Just keep the fuck away from Georgie.”

“Georgie? Now ain’t that cute? I’m not staying away from anyone. I want my money.”

“Don’t you mean your share of the money?” Rafferty countered, knowing full well that any division of the spoils was highly unlikely.

“’Course I do, old sod. ’Course I do.” His voice was wheedling. “Monday night. I’ll come to collect my share. Or your little Georgie, just to encourage you to work harder. Maybe I shouldn’t wait on that.”

Rafferty felt no fear, simply a cold, murderous rage that effectively wiped out any stray sense of honor remaining from his privileged upbringing. “Why don’t you come closer and say that?” he purred.

“Because you have a knife and you know how to use it. But I’m carrying a pistol meself and I haven’t lived to this ripe old age by being stupid,” he said smugly.

“Threatening the girl is very stupid,” Rafferty said in a low, dangerous voice.

“Threatening me is even worse.” He pulled out the pistol, aiming it at Rafferty’s mid-section. “Let’s just agree to leave each other in one piece, shall we? You agreed to find Belding’s cache and split it with me—that’s all I’m asking for.”

Rafferty controlled his snort of disbelief. “You’ll have your money,” he said coldly. “As soon as I find it.”

“Make it soon, my boy. I never was a patient man.” He uncocked the pistol and slid it back in his flashy coat, and Rafferty hesitated.

He could kill him where he stood, his knife in Billy’s throat, before Stiles could even begin to reach for the gun, and he was sorely tempted.

But Stiles was already pulling away, and he knew he’d missed his chance. This time.

Next time, he wouldn’t hesitate. Next time, Billy Stiles would be dead before he even opened his mouth, and if that soiled Rafferty’s peculiar sense of honor then he’d live with it.

Georgie was worth any tarnished standards he still maintained.

In fact, he’d give the house one more day.

Search the old servants’ quarters on the fourth floor again, just to see if he’d missed something, and then take a little trip down to the docks to finish with Billy.

He couldn’t afford a fair fight—what if, by some fluke, he’ lost?

Who would protect Georgie? She was hardly Billy’s type, but the man had never been accounted stupid.

He wanted her because Rafferty wanted her, and nothing would distract him from humbling his ancient enemy.

No, he was about to become a murderer. And he wouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt.

Georgie looked out over the sleeping city, her brain a torrent of thoughts.

Everyone slept, everyone but her, and she yawned, knowing it would do no good.

There were nights when she simply couldn’t sleep, and she climbed up the servants’ stairs and went out through the hinged window to the flat roof, perching up there as the night closed down around her, peace in her solitude.

She had no fear of heights—in fact, she liked them.

Liked being one with the night, looking down on the world around her.

Rafferty was somewhere down below, not giving one good goddam about her—or maybe he was asleep in that bed, not even dreaming of her.

She had to face facts—he didn’t really care about her at all, no matter how much she adored him.

Oh, she was one of his responsibilities, and as such, he should look after her, but she was nothing beyond that.

She might as well be Norah for all he cared.

The dismal truth was, there was no happy ending for Rafferty and her, and the sooner she accepted that fact, the better off she’d be.

Which left her with Andrew Salton. Clearly, he didn’t have the money to rescue them from their folly, but he had enough to prove to be a respectable husband. She didn’t want him, no matter how charming he was. If she couldn’t have Rafferty, she didn’t want anyone. Not even to save her family.

She heard the creak on the stairs, and she froze. For a moment, she was tempted to get up and hide behind one of the many chimneys, but she stayed where she was. No one in her family would bother with making their way to the roof, which left only one possibility. Rafferty.

If he was startled to see her sitting there, he didn’t show it.

He closed the door quietly behind him and stepped out into the moonlight, and she belatedly remembered she was wearing her nightdress.

He’d seen her in it often enough, but she pulled her shawl closer around her as she watched him from her perch.

“What are you doing up here?” His voice was low on the night air, and she wanted to shiver. She loved his voice, the deep tones, the warmth.

“I like it up here. I come up when I need to be alone, to think.”

“Do you want me to go away?”

“No.” She kept her own voice level. “Why are you up here?”

“You left the door to the servants’ floor open. It’s my duty to see the house is secure.”

“Your duty,” she scoffed, disappointed. He hadn’t come looking for her after all.

“Don’t you want me to do my duty? I’m your protégé after all.”

“You said you were leaving.” She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice.

“I am,” he said reluctantly. “Though I don’t know when. Your family is in a mess—I can’t abandon you while the wolf is at the door.”

“What wolf?” But she knew. It wasn’t poverty or starvation, it was Mr. Stiles with all the teeth and that smile that chilled her to the bone. Somehow, they’d gotten his attention, she’d gotten his attention, and they were no longer safe.

“You don’t need to worry about it,” Rafferty said, moving closer, the moonlight sending a long shadow behind him. “May I sit?”

She ignored the little thrill of pleasure. “If you want to,” she said coolly.

“I want to.” He dropped down on the flat roof next to her, so close she could put out her hand and touch him. “What are you thinking about? Andrew Salton?” He sounded disgruntled, which pleased her.

“Maybe.”

He said nothing and she wanted to kick him. “Are you going to marry him?” The words came out of the blue, and she stared at him, astonished.

“Why do you ask?”

“It would get you out of this house. It would be a safe future for you.”

She wanted to cry. “I’m not looking for a safe future,” she said stiffly. “And I don’t think it’s any of your business who I marry. In fact, I’m thinking I might be an old maid, with lots of cats.”

His laugh was as soft as the night breeze. “That won’t happen. Someone will sweep you off your feet. If it isn’t Andrew Salton, then it will be someone else.”

“I’m not marrying anyone if I can’t—” she stopped herself before the damning words got out.

But she shouldn’t have underestimated him. “Georgie,” he said gently. “I’m not for the likes of you.”

“Who said you were?” she shot back.

“You did.”

“Well, I’ve changed my mind.” She could be proud of the firmness in her voice.

“Good to hear,” he said softly.

“I’ll be a bluestocking, and hold salons, and I’ll have no use for men at all.”

“It would be a shame if you never were a mother.”

She felt the pang, and she flinched. “I intend to be an eccentric intellectual. There’s no saying I can’t have a baby on my own.”

“You need a man for that.”

“I suppose they have their uses,” she said with a sniff.

He laughed then, and her heart warmed. “If any man tries to take advantage of you, I’ll throw him out on his ear.”

“You won’t be around.”

He didn’t deny it. He was watching her, and his eyes were warm in the cool night air, and something snapped inside Georgie.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said briskly. “Since I’m going to want a baby and you aren’t going to let any man near me, then you can do the honors.”

If she’d managed to startle him, he didn’t show it. “I’m not in the habit of leaving my bastards around the place.”

“I’ll take good care of her.”

“What if it’s a boy?”

She wondered if he were seriously considering it. She turned to face him, a faint bit of hope filling her heart. “I’ll take good care of him, too.”

“Now you’re talking two children. How am I supposed to manage that?”

“You can be my butler. I’ll need help if I’m to have my own establishment.” She’d need money too, but she’d worry about that later.

“I don’t think I’m cut out to be a servant for the rest of my life.”

“Then you can marry me.”

Dead silence. “Georgie,” he said softly. “I can’t. You can’t marry your butler.”

“Well, then, we can always live in sin.”

She startled a laugh out of him. “There are better men than Andrew Salton,” he said, and the faint hope in her heart died.

“Don’t you want me?” Her own words were quiet, hopeless.

The moonlight caught his smile. “Who wouldn’t want you, dear heart? But it’s my duty to keep you safe, not to debauch you.”

“Even if I want to be debauched?”

There was an odd look in his blue eyes, and he reached out and cupped her jaw with one strong hand. “No, Georgie.” And then, to her amazement, he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the mouth.

It was a far cry from the raw passion of the night before, but it broke her heart, and she rose to meet him, heart and soul, ready to give him everything. His lips were soft, questing, and she wanted more. She needed more.

But then he broke the kiss, pulling back, and she could feel tears fill her eyes. “Then what was that?” she asked in a small voice.

“That was goodbye.”

He was gone before she could stop him, getting to his feet with that long, lean grace of his and moving to the heavy door. “Don’t stay out too late—it’s getting cold,” he said, and he left the door open for her.

She sat there, staring after him, and she could feel the wetness of tears on her cheeks. He meant it. He was really going, leaving her, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.