Night Storm by Tracey Devlyn Read Free Book Online

shop. How many times had he dragged Charley away from her duties so as to avoid her mother’s sharp, assessing gaze?
    He held the bundle up to his nose and felt none of those old emotions. What he experienced was far more devastating than Mrs. Fielding’s disapproval.
    Nostalgia, longing, terrible gut-punching loss.
    He missed Charley. He’d felt the full brunt of it when their paths had crossed briefly a few months ago. A run-in he’d had no part in orchestrating. One minute he’d been in the midst of a horrific scene and in the next she’d been standing in front of him. He’d actually shaken his head, thinking she was one of those desert mirages he’d heard about.
    He’d been hired by Sydney Hunt of the Hunt Agency to locate William Townsend, a gentleman suspected of being linked to an unscrupulous schoolmaster at Abbingale Home for Displaced and Gifted Boys.
    Adair had led one of Miss Hunt’s men to Townsend and the idiot Irishman wound up getting shot. Rather than allow Adair to summon a doctor, Sydney’s man had insisted on being taken back to the agency. And that’s where he had come face-to-face with Charley again.
    She had tried desperately to save the Irishman, putting everything she’d learned from her apothecary father, midwife mother, and her Scottish apprenticeship into action. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her the entire time.
    In the aftermath, they had stood over her patient’s body, bloody, exhausted, and aware . Aware of each other’s presence, aware of how long it had been since they’d stood in the same room together. Aware of what had happened at their last meeting. Awareness had drenched the air in a thick, choking cloud of regret, anger, and guilt.
    Other than their first brief locking of gazes when she’d marched into the agency’s drawing room, full of purpose and determination, she had not looked at him. She had walked away, face drawn and shoulders slumped, without a single glance in his direction.
    Watching her leave had been the second worst day of his life. The first had been when he’d walked away from her in much the same way five years ago. Why hadn’t he taken her message that evening more to heart? He could have saved them the trouble of this evening.
    Adair shook his head. Who the hell was he kidding? He wouldn’t have traded all the diamonds in Africa for the hour Charley’s hands had grazed over his body or for the tantalizing scent of lemon winding through her hair.
    But he could not afford to indulge his longings again. Tonight’s close call with death reminded him of how complicated and dangerous his business had become. Every case he accepted carried risks—some more severe than others. Bringing someone as fragile as Charley into his life would be selfish and irresponsible—not that she would even consider the possibility.
    Adair inhaled the herbal bundle’s sweet fragrance one more time before tossing it onto the floor. The soft plop of the herbs hitting the carpet echoed through the room like thunder rolling across a stormy summer sky.

 
    Chapter Three
     
    Snowflakes large enough for Charlotte to see their intricate pattern covered her forest-green mantle by the time she reached the Hall for the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries in Blackfriars. Having been in existence, in one form or another, since the mid-seventeenth century, the society membership was closed to women.
    If not for her family’s long-standing membership and her father’s close friendship with the Society’s master, all of this would be forbidden to her. It also didn’t hurt that her father used to bring her here as a small child, so many of the seasoned members viewed her as an honorary member.
    “Good afternoon, Mrs. Fielding.”
    “Hello, Mrs. Hodder.” Charlotte smiled, comforted by the familiar sight of the Society’s butler. For as long as Charlotte’s father had brought her here, Mrs. Hodder had greeted her at the door. According to her father, Mrs. Hodder