up with her, impressed at how quickly and deftly she moved. “You’re quite familiar with my garden. Perhaps more than I am.”
She opened the gate and slipped through it before he could hold it open. He closed it after he was through and caught up to her. “You aren’t even letting me be a gentleman.”
“You have nothing to prove to me. I already know you’re a gentleman.” She flashed him a smile. “Keep up!”
He chuckled. “Your legs are perhaps half the length of mine.”
“I’m not that short! When it isn’t dark, perhaps I’ll challenge you to a footrace. And we’ll have a proper wager.”
“I look forward to it.” He leaned close to her and whispered, “Because I’ll win.”
She ran ahead and turned, sticking her tongue out at him. Damn, she was quite fast. He picked up his pace, but she rounded the corner of Duke Street before he could catch her.
He reached the intersection and turned, only to nearly collide with her as she jumped into his path.
She made a sound that startled him, which was followed by her joyous laughter.
He clasped her elbows, and she tilted her head book to look up at him. “Don’t scare me like that. And I don’t mean jumping out, I mean leaving my sight. What if a villain grabbed you?”
“He’d be quite sorry.” She grabbed his hand and turned with him toward Oxford Street. Unfortunately, she let go after just a moment.
They walked in silence for several paces. He thought back over their earlier conversation. “Beatrix, what will you do after you settle things with your father?”
“What do you mean?”
“Will you be content to have a relationship with him, or will you look for something…else?”
“Such as marriage?”
“You did go to Almack’s and you danced with several gentlemen, did you not?”
“I did.”
“You will be seen as desiring marriage, and I can’t imagine you’ll be on the market long.”
She made a choking sound. “You make me sound like a cut of prime beef or produce. Or perhaps a broodmare.”
He grimaced. “Forgive me. That was not my intent.”
“To answer your question, I would like to marry. Eventually. The security and warmth of a family appeals to me.”
Security and warmth. He couldn’t have chosen two more perfect words. “Yes, exactly.”
They’d reached Oxford Street, a wide thoroughfare that was mostly quiet at this late hour. Still, there was the occasional vehicle. Thomas looked in both directions before taking her hand and guiding her across the street.
They turned to the right, and this time, she didn’t take her hand from his. With each step, he was more and more aware of her, of his growing attraction to her, of the absolute bliss of this night.
He was so focused on her that he didn’t see the movement to their left. The man was already on her before Thomas knew what was happening. He launched himself toward them, fearing he reacted too late.
Chapter 6
Beatrix had been so enthralled with Rockbourne that she’d completely missed the criminal dashing out from a narrow street until he was nearly on her. She tried to move, but there wasn’t time.
“What have we here?” a second man said as the first, a burly fellow who stank of gin, grabbed Beatrix by the arms and dragged her back toward the shadows of the side street.
Rockbourne collided with them, and they all tumbled to the pavement.
The sound of a pistol hammer cocking clicked in Beatrix’s ears. She rolled away from the two men who were now grappling for the upper hand and reached into her boot. Withdrawing the small knife, she freed the blade and pivoted onto her knee so that she was close to the man with the pistol. Without pause, she sank the blade into the back of his thigh. Pulling it out, she used her advantage of surprise—and his injury—and leapt up, hitting her forearm against his wrist to knock the pistol from his hand. The weapon flew and landed a few feet away as the man shrieked.
Standing straight, Beatrix pulled a small pistol from the slim interior pocket of her coat and pointed it in the man’s face. “Go.”
The man didn’t hesitate. He hobbled away as quickly as his wound would allow. Beatrix found the gun she’d forced from his grip and plucked it up.
Then she spun toward the two men who were still wrestling. No, not wrestling. Rockbourne had the upper hand and was currently pummeling the man’s face. Except it was more than that. He was attacking the miscreant viciously, mercilessly.
“Tom!” she