with the thud of heavy boots. I raced to the fireplace and grabbed the poker. My hands were slick upon the wooden handle. Where to hide?
Desperate, I dove near the curtains, hiding just beside the fluttering material. A shadow appeared. Tall and lanky. Yes, definitely a man, but not Gabe. This stranger was too thin.
I raised the poker.
I would protect Izzy. I had to. He reached out to brush aside the curtain. Hands trembling, I lifted my weapon higher. An arm snaked around my neck and covered my mouth. The scream got caught in my throat.
Another. There was another man. He tore the poker from my hand and tossed it onto the table just as the first intruder stepped through the curtains.
Everything became a blur and my sharp mind became muddled. Years of living in the slums did no good. I’d become weak, my instincts pathetic.
“Get back,” the man holding me demanded.
His arms were gone as he rushed forward. I wavered, off balance. It took a moment to realize he was speaking to me. I jumped back just as the two men came together with a thud that shook the house. I scrambled toward Izzy and scooped her up. Could I make it out the back door?
The two men stumbled across the kitchen, hitting a small table and knocking over a vase that shattered to the ground.
Izzy’s eyes opened and a wail erupted.
I bounced her in my arms, inching toward the door. “Shush, all is well.”
The two men couldn’t have been more different. While the one who had come from the front was dirty, unkempt, and reeked of alcohol, the man who had surprised me was dressed in clean, pressed clothing. A gentleman?
“Who are you?” the gentleman demanded, shaking the first intruder by the collar. “Why are you here?”
“None of yer bleedin business.”
I knew an accent from the slums when I heard one. This man was hired. By whom? The tailored gent lifted his hand and slammed his fist into the man’s face. The loud thump made me cringe. I cuddled Izzy closer.
“I do not wish to harm you any further,” the gent snapped. “Give over and tell me what I want to know.”
The man on the floor spit out blood. “Sod off!”
“Very well.” The gent slammed his fist into the man’s face once more.
This time a little too hard. The man slumped into the ground; his eyes closed.
“Bloody stupid,” the gent muttered, standing. “Now he’ll go to prison. I do hope it was worth it.”
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around his knuckles. There was something oddly calm and methodical about the way he moved, as if nothing could upset him, not even fisticuffs in the shop of a modiste.
I cleared my throat. “Sir. My lord.”
Startled, he glanced at me as if he’d forgotten I was even there. “Of course. Where are my manners.” He straightened his jacket and stepped closer to me. He was surprisingly young, not much older than me. “I happened upon an old crone who said you might be the woman I’ve been looking for.”
He was a tall man, a stately man with light brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He was the type of man who would have been friends with Gabe. Commanding. Important. Wealthy. Cold.
“Naturally I didn’t get my hopes…”
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he scanned my face. I studied him just as hard. As he tilted his head, the lamplight hit his handsome features, highlighting every sharp angle. There was something oddly familiar…
“Evangeline?”
I hadn’t heard that name in a long, long while. At some point I’d become Ginny, and it was how I now thought of myself. I shook my head. “How do I know…”
Sudden memories came rushing back.
“Are you all right?” Kindly blue eyes in a boyish face stared down at me. “Don’t worry, you’ll be a right fine rider in no time at all.”
My heart slammed madly.
“When can I go to my first ball?”
A tall boy stepped up close, ruffling my hair. “Not for a long, long time.”
“My God,” I whispered.
A girl and a boy jumping in leaves. “Go on then, Evie, jump!”
The girl…me.
The boy…him.
“Evie? Is it really you?” the gent asked, jerking me from my stupor.
The world spun. I stumbled, wavering. Izzy whimpered. He reached out, his hands gripping my upper arms and giving me the steadiness I needed. I breathed in his musky, male scent. Not the scent of a boy, but a man. My brother. I had a brother. “Oliver?”