She could return to Helmsdale on the morrow, King’s directives be damned.
“Very well.” The driver tipped his hat and pulled away.
Adeline brushed at the snowflakes that clung to her cloak and started toward the gaming hell, the promise of light and warmth beckoning.
A man stepped into her path before she could reach the door, and Adeline’s hand immediately dropped to her skirts, her fingers brushing the handle of her blade. She did not wish to fight in skirts, but she’d done it before—
The man stopped and leaned casually on his walking stick.
Adeline cursed under her breath. “This is starting to become tiresome, King,” she said.
“Define this,” he said, sounding unconcerned.
“You, skulking in alleys, waiting for me.”
“I don’t skulk. And this is more of a street.”
“You followed me here.”
“Of course I did. I am protecting my investment. London is a dangerous place at night. If you die in one of these rotten alleys, you will be of no use to me.”
“I thought we established that I am hard to kill.”
“Hard is not the same thing as impossible.”
She ignored his words. “I also thought we’d established that you are my client and that I was to work on your behalf. I’d like to do so without you spying on me or otherwise interfering with my ability to do my job.”
“Spying implies a level of subterfuge, which this encounter most certainly lacks. And I haven’t interfered with anything.”
“You’re interfering now. Marstowe and Rotham—”
“Are inside, very likely partaking in a bottle of very excellent French brandy that has never seen the inside of a customhouse and, knowing Rotham, getting drunker by the minute. I am supposing you are here to take advantage of that.”
Adeline’s jaw hardened. “I’d like to get a better measure of Marstowe.”
“You could have spoken to him during the auction—”
“Did you think me incapable when you hired me?” she interrupted.
“Not at all.”
“Do you think me incapable now?”
“Of course not. I just would have preferred if you had advised me of your intent to leave Helmsdale this evening.”
Adeline gaped at him. “Advised you? You—” She closed her eyes, forced herself to picture the sun-drenched vineyards of a French château, and collected herself. “You are neither my nursemaid nor my keeper,” she said, opening her eyes. “Did you honestly expect me to remain locked up in your towers to magically spin straw into gold?”
“What does that mean?”
“The tale of Rumpelstilzchen?” Her breath misted in the cold air.
“I’m not familiar.”
“A wretched story meant to entertain children in which a woman becomes a pawn of her foolish father, then a vicious king, and finally a cruel little goblin.”
“Then she should have killed them all,” he said darkly. “And you weren’t locked up.”
“I refuse to be your pawn, King.”
“I can’t imagine you’ve ever been anyone’s pawn.”
The wind gusted, and Adeline shivered. This was ridiculous. She stalked toward the door of Lavoie’s. “Just leave, King,” she said. “Go back to Helmsdale, get some rest, and let me do my job. I’ll keep you abreast of my findings.”
He fell into step beside her. “You have no idea what Marstowe is capable of.”
“That is rather the point here, King. To determine exactly that, since you are hardly a fount of information.”
“You already know that there are two types of people who exist in this world,” he said. “Wolves and sheep. Predators and prey. Marstowe is a predator of the most monstrous sort.”
“There are shepherds too,” Adeline said irritably.
“The shepherds.” King made a dismissive sound. “Those fools spend their lives exposed to the worst of the elements, trying to protect creatures too dumb to understand that they need protecting or understand what the shepherd risks on their behalf.”
“Are you insinuating I’m a fool?”
“If you recklessly risk your safety.”
“Well, since we’re still speaking in similes here, I will remind you that sometimes those shepherds hide dogs within their sheep. Clever, cunning animals that do not fear wolves.”
“Now you’re a dog?”
Adeline threw up her hands in disgust. “You were right the first time. I am a fool, but only for trying to have this conversation with you.”
He didn’t answer, and Adeline took three more steps before she realized that he was no longer at her side. She stopped and turned to find him standing motionless, studying her intently. With his pale eyes, fair coloring, and seeming imperviousness to the snow swirling wildly around him, he looked a little like some sort of avenging Nordic god.
“I will not leave you,” he said quietly.
She should be furious. She should cling to healthy frustration that