My Lord Immortality Page 9


Folding her hands in her lap, Amelia sucked in a deep breath. "He came to me to warn that a young prostitute had been discovered murdered in the lane."


"You did not reveal that you had seen the body?" he demanded.


"Of course not." Her tongue peeked out to wet her dry lips. "But he said there had been a witness."


Mr. St. Ives abruptly stilled. "A witness? Who?"


Amelia discovered herself regarding her companion with a measure of surprise. There was an unmistakable edge of danger about him. A danger that was nearly tangible.


"Mr. Ryan said that it was a gentleman who was passing by the lane. He claimed to have seen a large man with dark hair with a woman. Then the runner asked to speak with William."


"I presume you refused?" he asked in rather distracted tones.


"Yes, I said William had been ill and in bed for the past few days."


Far from being shocked by her blatant lies, Mr. St. Ives gave an approving nod.


"That is well. I do not believe that William would comprehend a need for silence."


"No, but I do not think that Mr. Ryan was entirely convinced," she confessed with a worried frown. "I fear he is quite intent upon seeking out William to question him."


"A problem, certainly," he murmured.


Amelia's frown deepened. He appeared oddly preoccupied, as if he were barely attending to her words.


"What is it?"


His pale fingers tapped a restless tattoo on the arm of his chair. "It is odd."


"Odd?"


"This witness claims to have seen a man with dark hair and a woman?"


Amelia stifled a surge of impatience. "Yes."


"If it was your brother who the man observed, then who was the woman?" he demanded in low tones. "You did not find William until we were together. It is not possible that this witness could have seen you alone with your brother. So why did he lie?"


Chapter Four


Sebastian watched in silence as the young maiden pondered his words. It was obvious that she had been too rattled by the appearance of the runner to consider with clarity the claim of the witness. Now she ruthlessly gnawed her lower lip as her swift wits attempted to make sense of the insensible accusation.


A sharp, poignant desire to soothe her poor, mal-treated lip swept through Sebastian with shocking force.


He closed his eyes briefly. Perhaps ridiculously, he had hoped that the hours he had devoted to lecturing himself upon the danger of heedless passions would have rid him of the peculiar awareness that afflicted him when this maiden was near. Or at least allowed him to keep such tempting sensations at bay.


She had only to enter his home, however, for him to realize that his lectures had been futile.


For whatever unfathomable reason, this woman managed to stir to life a heat and desire that had never plagued him before.


Seemingly unaware of the prickles of awareness that skittered through his body, Miss Hadwell at last met his probing gaze with a bewildered frown.


"Perhaps the witness was mistaken. Perhaps he saw the two of us together."


Sebastian grimaced. He already possessed his own suspicions of this supposed witness. It had the stench of Drake.


"I do not have dark hair," he pointed out in low tones. "And besides, I would have known if there were another near."


She lifted her slender hands. "Then perhaps William did see the woman before we arrived. He might even have spoken with her."


His expression hardened. "I do not believe William noticed anything beyond his beloved kittens. And there is still the true murderer who must be accounted for."


A visible shudder raced through her as he forced her to realize that it had been no simple mistake that had led the runner to her door.


"But why?" she whispered in an unsteady tone. "Why would the man lie?"


"He obviously desired to have William implicated in the murder."


The dark eyes were nearly black as she struggled to accept the truth. "Who? Who would do such a ghastly thing?"


"That I intend to discover, my dear," he said grimly.


"This is horrible." Without warning, she covered her face with her hands, as if battling the urge to cry. "Poor William."


Barely aware that he was moving, Sebastian had slipped from his chair to kneel beside her. He might rue her brash spirit and reckless bravery, but he realized that he could not bear to see it broken. His heart clenched in pain as he reached out to gently place an arm about her shoulders.


"Do not fear, Amelia," he said softly. "I will let nothing happen to you."


Her eyes slowly lifted to regard him with a haunted gaze. "I do not fear for myself."


His lips twisted in a wry manner. Of course she did not fear for herself. She would bravely storm the flames of the nether world. She would march onto the battlefields of Napoleon with her head high. She would no doubt face death itself without flinching.


Her only weakness was her brother.


A weakness that the treacherous Drake had clearly decided to use to his own advantage.


"No," he agreed as his fingers absently stroked the satin skin of her shoulder. "I realize you possess no concern for yourself."


She seemed taken aback by his words. "That is not true."


"When was the last occasion you simply did some-thing for your own pleasure?" he demanded in soft tones. "A walk in the park, reading a book, attending a party?"


"I find pleasure in seeing my brother secure and happy," she retorted defensively.


His fingers tingled as they traced aimless patterns upon her skin. "You, my dear, are a most unusual woman."


A reluctant hint of amusement glinted in the dark eyes. "Should I be insulted?"


"No, it is a most sincere compliment." He studied rhe delicate features, lingering a heartbeat upon the remptation of her mouth. "Although I will admit a grudging compliment."


She lifted her brows. "What do you mean?"


Sebastian knew that he should move to a less perilous position. Her distress had been controlled and the familiar unquenchable spirit was once again sparkling in her eyes. But his body refused to obey the commands of his common sense.


It was far too delightful to touch her in such an intimate manner.


"I am a gentleman who has devoted his life to the study of logic," he admitted dryly. "I am unaccustomed to being ... distracted by young maidens."


He heard her breath catch as her eyes widened in surprise. "You find me distracting?"


"Dangerously so."


She regarded him closely, as if seeking some truth there. "Are you just saying this to try and charm me?"


Sebastian gave a low chuckle, his hand moving to cherish the delicate lines of her face.


"If I desired simply to charm you, I would tell you that your eyes possess the dark velvet beauty of a midnight sky." His fingers brushed over her mouth. "Or that your lips are so lush and full that they entice a gentleman beyond bearing."


He felt a shiver race through her. A shiver that was echoed within himself. Then she gave a breathy laugh.


"I was mistaken."


"Mistaken?"


"You are far more proficient at flirtation than I suspected," she murmured.


His lips twisted with rueful humor. "No, you were quite correct, my dear. As I said, I am a simple scholar and not at all prepared for the likes of you."


A sudden heat filled her cheeks as she gazed at him through the tangle of her long, black lashes.


"Do you mind?"


Finding it absurdly difficult to concentrate upon her words, Sebastian leaned even closer to the damnable temptation of her lips.


"Mind what?"


"Being distracted," she whispered.


"Yes." His mouth hovered a mere breath from her own. "Unfortunately, there appears to be little I can do."


"Oh."


A heartbeat passed as Sebastian trembled on the edge of blissful madness. One move, a mere tilt of his head, and he could explore the sweetness that beckoned him.


Her lips would be warm and satin-soft with the taste of innocence. They would gently part to invite a more intimate exploration as she arched to press her curves next to his aching body.


Sharp, dazzling heat raced through his blood, stirring the dark passions that had lain dormant for so long.


Thankfully, it was that very heat that abruptly brought him back to his sadly forgotten senses.


Sucking in a sudden breath, he surged to his feet. His body felt heavy and tight with an unfamiliar need. A need that he grimly ignored. He had to halt this foolishness. He could not allow himself to be distracted. No matter what the temptation.


"Perhaps we should return our attention to the reason you sought me out," he forced himself to murmur.


For a moment it appeared that she was finding it as difficult as he was to shake off the lingering awareness of what had happened between them. There was a bemused expression and a hint of fire deep in the midnight eyes. Then, with a stifled gasp, she was on her feet.


"William! Good heavens, I nearly forgot. What am I to do?"


He absently pushed his fingers through the hair he had left loose. "For the moment, I fear there is noth-ing to be done."

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