Tarnished Knight - By Bec McMaster Page 0,54

tipped his chair back onto one leg, his booted foot against the table leg for balance as he listened to Rip discussing a breach in the walls that encircled Whitechapel with the rest of the men. His gaze locked on her for a moment. Troubled. Assessing.

Then he gave a swift jerk of his head and set the chair legs down on the floor. The rest of the men looked up when he stood, towering over them.

“I’ll be back shortly,” he muttered, as loquacious as ever.

The conversation renewed. Despite the mix of emotions within her, Lena couldn’t help a smile as she followed him to the door. Some things about Will would never change.

The hallway was lit by warm lantern light. It washed over Will’s face, giving his skin a honey-drenched glow. He was so much darker than she. Unfashionably so. And no doubt he’d shaved this morning, but the rasp of thick stubble lined his jaw. Lena couldn’t stop looking at him. Each small part that made him up was the opposite of what she’d always found attractive, and yet on the whole, she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

Except to drop it lower. The rough linen shirt he wore was open at the throat, a gleaming silver claw hanging from a leather thong around his neck. Golden hair curled up to the base of his throat and suddenly a rush of heat went through her.

As if sensing it, Will cut a sharp glance at her, the light highlighting his cheekbones. “They’re in the sittin’ room,” he muttered, cocking his head. “It sounds safe enough for you to interrupt.”

Heat bloomed through her cheeks. Honoria had always struck her as the very embodiment of chastity, until she’d married Blade. It wouldn’t be the first time the pair of them were caught in an embarrassing situation.

“Thank you.” She hesitated. “You’re making me frightened of what I’m going to find out.”

“It ain’t nothin’ bad. But it’ll change… a lot of things.”

“And if she won’t tell me?”

His golden-amber eyes met hers. “Then I will.”

“I’d much rather hear it from you anyway,” Lena hastened to add, reaching out to rest her hand on his arm.

“Ain’t my place.” His nostrils flared and he jerked his hand away. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Will tipped his chin toward the sitting room. “You’d best hurry. Won’t be long before they’re up to no good.”

Gathering herself, Lena took a deep breath and started toward the sitting room. She loved her sister. But Honoria had always thought she knew best. Even if it meant keeping Lena in the dark.

The door to the sitting room was cracked open several inches. Honoria lay on the daybed by the fireplace, her head resting on her husband’s lap. Blade stared into the flames, his mind a million miles away as he gently stroked Honoria’s hair. Honoria looked sleepy, relaxed. The moment was incredibly personal and for a second Lena didn’t want to intrude.

Then Blade looked up and she realised that he’d been aware of her all along.

“May I come in?” Lena asked quietly.

Honoria lifted her head and then pushed into a sitting position, smoothing her skirts. The moment was broken and Lena perched awkwardly on the edge of the armchair facing them as they swiftly rearranged themselves.

Blade stood and stretched. “You want a nightcap, luv?” he asked, looking down at his wife.

Honoria arched a brow, looking between the pair of them. “Why? Do you think I’m going to need it?”

He smiled. Blade had a rather devilish smile when he wanted to. “Do you remember that conversation we ‘ad ‘bout secrets comin’ ‘ome to roost?” As Honoria’s eyes widened, he started toward the door. “I’ll bring the bottle.”

The fire crackled in the silence as he shut the door behind him. Lena’s eyes narrowed. It seemed certain verwulfen men couldn’t keep their mouths shut when they ought to.

“Well?” Honoria took a deep breath, then said crisply. “You have that look on your face. Like you’re afraid to tell me something.”

Despite her tone, Honoria looked nervous.

Lena pressed her clenched hands between her knees. “I was on the roof this morning. I heard everything that was said between you and Barrons.”

She could practically see her sister’s mind racing, trying to remember what had been said.

“I’ll save you some time,” Lena said. “You said that he was responsible for what happened to Charlie.” Her voice broke. “Is it true?”

Honoria sighed. “It’s true. Leo - Barrons - knew that father was working on a vaccination for the craving virus. He