In the Dark with the Duke by Christi Caldwell Page 0,27
one had kept. “It was several hours ago.”
“Yes; be that as it may, until our meeting I was unfamiliar with the term ‘flittermouse,’ and I assumed you were placing me in the mouse persuasion.” She spoke with her hands, punctuating certain words and inflections. “However, my research revealed the flittermouse is not at all like a mouse mouse.”
Hugh had suffered any number of blows to the head over the years; some had knocked him out cold. Some had left him with a headache months after. Never in any of those instances had he felt more turned around than he did in this moment. With this woman. “A . . . ‘mouse mouse’?”
“As in related to the mouse family.”
There were any number of things he should say to the lady in this instant, all of them pertaining to her leaving, and yet he could manage only one question: “You went home and . . . researched the flittermouse?”
She gave her head a little nod. “There were only a few hours before our meeting.”
He shot a glance at the doorway his partners had disappeared behind. “We don’t have a meeting, Flittermouse.” As it was, his partners already questioned his commitment to their cause. The last thing he could afford was having them think he was taking on a distraction in the form of . . . of . . . whatever in hell she was here for.
“I’ve not learned everything there is to know about the flittermouse,” the oddity went on as if he’d not spoken. “What I did discover, however, is really rather fascinating, if you care to know?”
“I don—”
“According to ancient Chinese culture, the bat is a symbol of hope and joy.”
Apparently, no invitation was needed. Reaching into the satchel that dangled from her wrist, she withdrew a small leather book and held it out.
When he made no move to take it, she carried on. “In fact, the Chinese word for bat—fu—is nearly identical to the word for ‘good fortune.’”
“Trust me, Flittermouse,” he said dryly. “I’ve known you for twelve hours, and the idea of you and good fortune? They don’t go.”
A slight frown marred the place between her eyebrows, highlighting the tip of the scar at the center of her forehead. And he, who’d not once in the whole of his thirty-three years bothered with questions about how a person came by their marks, found himself wondering how this woman had. It didn’t fit with her fine speech and garments.
Clearing her throat, the young woman flipped her book open and turned quickly those pages. “Bats also are representative of ‘Five Blessings’ or wufu,” she said. “Long life, wealth, health, love of virtue, and a peaceful death.”
Hugh folded his arms at his chest. “By that, one could make the assumption that your being here represents death.”
Her frown deepened, and she spared a look down at her peculiar volume. “I—I’d not thought of it that way,” she allowed. “However”—she turned her book around to face him—“I believe you’re failing to note the other more interesting—”
His patience snapped, and he surged forward, startling a gasp from her. She lost her grip on her book, and it clattered to the floor.
The woman did have some modicum of fear left, then. “I don’t want to know about your damned encyclopedia of knowledge on bats. Do you know what I would like?” He didn’t allow her a word edgewise. “I’d like for you to turn and walk your pretty little arse outside my club so that I can return to my business.” He didn’t want to school her or anyone else on how to kill or maim. Nay, the last thing he sought was more blood on his hands. Hugh stuck his face close to hers. “Are we clear?”
She dampened her mouth, the crimson red of that plump flesh standing in stark contrast to the ghostly pallor of her skin. Fear leached from every part of her almost elfin face, and came through in each puff of her quickened breathing. “You haven’t hurt me.” Her response came out so faint he barely discerned the words there. “I’ve now met you two times, and on both occasions you’ve been less than pleased with me.”
God, she was exhausting. “That’s a goddamned understatement.”
“Precisely.” And with each word, strength returned to her voice. “You’ve hurled insults, and you are one accustomed to using your fists, and yet at no time have you attempted to hurt me.” She squared her shoulders. “As such, the conclusion I’ve arrived at is that: