Luck Be a Lady by Meredith Duran Read Free Book Online Page B

made a noise to signal her disgust—and dismissal. “You may go, then,” she said. “I am not in a conversational mood.”
    He snorted and shoved off the wall, as fast and powerful as a spring uncoiling. “Got a coach standing outside Diamonds. It’ll take you back home.”
    In her amazement, she almost laughed. “Indeed it won’t.” Decency, and her friendship with his niece, compelled her to add, “But I do thank you for the offer.”
    He looked at her now as though she’d grown another head. “It wasn’t an offer. Something happens to you here, I’ll have the entire world poking about to investigate. And that won’t suit the business at Diamonds.”
    She frowned. Sound logic, good strategy. He was a businessman, in his way. If only he paid similar respect to her! Chickens lured toward a cliff: that was how he had described her clients. Glittery bits— his view of fine arts. “I’ll go,” she said sourly, “if you tell me who lives in that tenement.”
    He eyed her. “Thought it was the ale that made you so frisky. But it seems you’ve got spirit when sober as well.”
    Boor. “I cannot imagine what you mean. I am always sober.”
    His answering snort was unjust in the extreme.
    â€œThat night at Mr. Neddie’s public house,” she said sharply, “was an extraordinary occasion, which no gentle­man would mention. Indeed, had any gentleman been nearby, surely he would have intervened in a timely fashion to stop the madman who kidnapped me.”
    â€œWasn’t only you who was kidnapped,” he said mildly.
    She let triumph curve her lips. “Indeed. Your niece was also endangered. Pity we had to save ourselves. At any rate, if either of us did overindulge in the ­aftermath—which I did not —then it was not from any inclination to intemperance, but merely from a natural wish to forget the events that preceded it. To say nothing of the company in which I found myself afterward!” Here, she gave him a pointed look.
    His brows climbed. “There’s a proper speech. I think I preferred you drunk.”
    â€œI told you, I was not— ”She cut herself off with a hiss. No use in arguing with this ruffian. And, truth be told, she had not been entirely . . . herself that evening.
    If only she could manage to forget the whole of it. But she remembered saying some very forward things at the end of the night, to do with Mr. O’Shea’s face and figure . . . and the amount he might bring at auction, were he a sculpture for sale . . .
    Oh, she refused to think on it. She had vowed never to drink again.
    She crossed her arms and looked over his shoulder toward the tenement. “Please go.”
    â€œIn a minute, I’m tossing you over my shoulder.”
    She recoiled. “You wouldn’t dare.”
    But perhaps he would. His smile looked rakish. “You might enjoy it. I seem to recall a fine compliment to my shoulders, last time we met. I’d put it down to the drink, but you say you were sober. Well, then. Your sober self, Miss Everleigh, adjudged me a handsomely equipped man.”
    Mortification crawled through her. “You’re a churl.”
    â€œMaybe. Course, a churl wouldn’t drive you home. He might throw you over his shoulder and carry you to his coach, though. Why don’t you think on it for a moment.” As another spate of rain dampened them, he grimaced and said, “I’ll give you five seconds.”
    She darted another glance at the tenement. Peter might be in that building for hours, yet, and the light was fading now. “Fine. I will allow you to hail me a hackney.”
    â€œIt’s a wonder,” he said, “that you ain’t been robbed yet. You travel much by cab?”
    â€œI would sooner trust a cabman than you,” she said through her teeth.
    â€œYou think