His irritation was swift to fade at her stiff defiance, and a smile curved his lips as he held out his arm. "So I see. Shall we go?"
There was a moment's pause before she at last laid her fingers upon his arm, although she made no move to continue down the street.
"What were you doing?"
Lucien grimaced, still able to feel the faint choking sense of malevolence. "Having a word with an old friend."
"A friend." Her eyes abruptly narrowed. "In this neighborhood?"
He abruptly laughed as he realized the direction of her thoughts. "Stop glaring at me in such sour disapproval. My friend was not a poor lady from the local brothel. It was an acquaintance from my homeland."
A faint color touched her cheeks at the realization she had leapt to conclusions, but her gaze remained steady. "Where is your homeland?"
Lucien shrugged. "At the moment it is in the garret of your house."
"That is not what I meant."
"No?"
"No."
Although he was uncertain that he could keep his secrets forever, Lucien was not about to confess to truth until he had proven to this maiden she could trust him.
"I believe we should be about our task. The night is swiftly passing."
She frowned into his impassive countenance. "What are you hiding?"
"All things in their time, my dear. For now I think we should concentrate upon what we set out to do this evening."
Perhaps sensing he was not about to satisfy her curiosity at the moment, she gave him a last probing glare before reluctantly nodding her head.
"As you say. It is this way."
Allowing her to lead the way down the street, Lucien kept a watchful eye upon the various drunks and ruffians that tumbled from the local gin houses. More than one allowed their gazes to linger with hunger upon the beautiful maiden at his side, but one glance into his set countenance was enough to convince them to move along to less dangerous game.
He was so intent upon his vigilant guard that he nearly stumbled over Miss Kingly when she came to an abrupt halt before a tumble down building.
"An empty warehouse?" he demanded in puzzlement.
"It is not empty." She headed toward a narrow door. "Come, but be on your guard."
He smiled ruefully at her warning. "I am always on my guard, my dove."
Coming to the door, Miss Kingly knocked sharply upon the splintering wood. From within, a muffled voice could be heard.
"Who passes?"
"It is Miss Kingly."
There was a moment of silence. "Do you know the password?"
"Thomas," Miss Kingly retorted in stern tones.
"Sorry, that ain't be it."
"Thomas, open this door at once."
With ready speed the door was pulled open to reveal an urchin with a round, dirty face and clothes far too large for his slender frame.