Chapter Fourteen

"H ere again?" Don set his journals and unlit lantern on the grass and sat, long legs out in front of him.

"Not here specifically." Danny pointed to a place farther down the hill by the water's edge. "Last time, I sat there."

"Arguing semantics? You are in dire straits."

"Yes, indeed," she said mockingly. "And a smart man would leave me to my contemplation."

"Hmm," he said. "What are you reading this time?" He tilted up her book to read the title. " Poisons and How to Tell the Difference Between Fatal and Life Threatening ." He chuckled. "Your outing went well yesterday, I take it?"

Danny groaned. "Don't start." Her hip was bruised, her scalp stung. Somewhere along the way home, she'd lost her favorite pistol. And that was all before she'd walked through her front door.

Upon returning to the townhouse, Denise had swooped down from whatever perch she'd been sitting in wait on and demanded every detail of the extra activities at the match, her ills mysteriously cured with insatiable curiosity.

Danny had obeyed, though she'd omitted their detour into the slums and the more sensual sport she and Percy had played on the terrace. Denise had relented after a solid two-hour interrogation on the carriage ride back to their country home, but not even the darkened carriage could've hidden the heat in Danny's cheeks. Luckily, Denise could only persist so far with Mrs. Pebblestone within earshot.

Danny was lucky she didn't combust thinking about Percy's fingers against her thighs, and that hot length against her bruised folds. How she wished she could've lifted her skirts and seen him. Even the alley had been too dark to make out more than shapes and the feel of satin skin and steel.

If any of Uncle Jack's statues in the Fellow Pleasure Garden were an indication of average size, Percy was a monster. Less than a day since she'd seen him last and she missed his presence, his calming tone. How she hated not knowing if it would be the last time he'd darken her door.

There'd been so much left unsaid when he'd departed.

"Are you unwell?" Don's dark brows pinched in concern. "Your face is pale."

Danny nodded. "How is your research going?"

"How was your outing?"

"You're starting," she accused.

"And you're evading."

"You won't relent on this, will you?" Danny sighed and stared out at the water, the surface rippling with a chilled breeze. "Confusing." Confounded. Befuddled. Out of her mind.

Through the ups and downs of the day, Danny's feelings had remained constant. No, she wouldn't lie to herself. Her feelings had deepened with every flirting glance, every scandalous brush of skin against skin. And when Percy had revealed the depth of self-loathing he housed, her feelings had changed altogether. Friendship wouldn't be enough.

Percy needed loyalty and comfort, though he would never admit it. And Danny couldn't escape the fact that she wanted to be the person to give him those things. But she knew nothing of his darkness. Hearing details didn't equal understanding. As much as she wished it, the ghosts in his past may be more than even she could overcome. She knew from personal experience. But she wanted to try to be more for him and for herself.

She'd explain her own past and pray he could look past her rougher edges. And if he decided after hearing everything that he never wished to see her again, she'd have no regrets.

And if he condemned her . . .

Danny buried her face in her hands, her heart a mushed rag in her chest. "What should I do?"

"I'm astounded, Danny!"

Her head shot up at her brother's affronted tone.

"You already know the answer," he said. "You decided days ago what he meant to you."

Danny startled. There was no way her brother knew what she'd been thinking. She hadn't mentioned Percy at all, had she? "What do you mean?"

Don thumbed his nose and gathered his trade tools as if he'd turn tail and run after such cryptic words.

"Donald!"

Shaking his head, he rose to his feet, journals tucked underarm and lantern swinging from the other. "Stop asking what others think, sister. One thing Father and I agree on: You have a mind and ideals—and are mercifully not as impetuous as Denise—so use them. No one knows your mind better than you. Or your heart."

Danny gaped. "I've never heard you so outspoken."

"Unimaginable that a gentleman besides Father wishes for a mind to be put before the sex?" Don's expression was grim but fierce. "I was there that horrible day when the inspector returned you to us, remember? Seeing how strong you were then made me strive to be stronger myself."

Danny's heart squeezed. Her brother was the first of her family to see her that night, and the first who'd offered comfort the only way a scientific twelve-year-old boy knew how. He'd brought her to his personal library and spent hours sitting beside her while she'd forgotten the scars and fears in the details of the world.

He thought she was strong. The truth was, she'd grown strong because he'd shared his strength.

"Don—"

"Prepare yourself, sister." Don smiled, bypassing the gratitude. "I believe a being's worth resides in nothing of physical substance. I can't. You know, you've seen where I go every night." His gaze went to the line of spruces at the other end of the lake, where the first signs of nocturnal life rustled in the needled limbs. "I learn more about myself by watching animals go about their lives, predictable but adaptive, relentlessly pursuing that which they need to survive.

"As people, we forget how much we've been given. Observing animal behaviors, cataloguing their struggles and triumphs, my greatest hope is one day others will read my notes and think on how they may better the world for more than their own pursuits, so we may all survive."

What an unforgiving speech. Only her brother could turn the eating habits of a flying mouse into a campaign to save humanity.

"That"—Danny found her throat was tight—"should be your speech to the House."

He laughed. "Think anyone would listen?"

" I would."

"You are a rarity, dear sister." Don tapped the front of his journal with a concluding rap of knuckles. "Now go win your duke."

Danny's heart clenched even as her cheeks hurt from smiling. "So much for not telling me what to do."

"I'm your older brother." He grinned, tapping his journal a second time. "I can't go completely against my nature."

*

Percy bolted to his feet and left his seat by the fire to cross to the window, feeling her presence before she threw the first stone.

Chest tight, he opened the window and looked down at an apparition in dark skirts and whispered her name.

"Danny."

The smile she offered him was guarded. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." God, she was beautiful with her hair unbound, her cheeks flushed from exertion. "What are you doing here?" In the middle of the night, after traversing miles alone through the woods.

"I..." She shook her head. The tip of her boot made circles in the grass. "I only meant to check how you were feeling."

"Me?" It would serve him right to be bleeding out in a gutter while rats gnawed on his entrails. " You were the one injured." He ran a hand through his hair, willing his brain to come up with something comforting to say. "I assume you couldn't sleep?"

Fuck, he sucked at this.

"I mean," he tried again. "I am here if you wish to talk?"

"Because I was cornered by two armed men?" she said, with a wry twist of her lips Percy didn't understand. "Not to worry. Happens to me on a regular basis."

He dropped his hand, only to realize it was shaking in anger. "Don't joke about this. You could've been hurt. You could've..." He couldn't say the word. The thought of her death enraged him, broke him. Only seeing her now, standing outside his window with bright eyes, dimmed the chaos building inside.

If she was here, did that mean she hadn't decided to abandon him? Their benign parting words at her family's townhouse had left much unsaid, including her wishes going forward.

Percy cursed himself again. He was not a bloody house pet that could be left out in the cold. He was a proper stray, unwanted except for when a kindhearted person offered a scrap of affection before returning home.

As she should do now, for her own good.

"Stay there. I'll be down in a moment." He didn't wait to see if she listened. Being two stories up and having no mighty oak tree to shimmy down, Percy made his way to the back of the house and out into the yard via the servants' entrance, each second with her out of sight a second more for his gut to twist into knots.

Feet eating up the lawn, he stopped an arm's length away, the sight of her tentative smile loosening the worst of the tangles.

The breeze caught a wisp of her hair where it fell softly against a rosy cheek.

"Hello," he said.

She laughed, that hair catching the corner of her mouth.

Damn it, now he couldn't stop staring at her lips.

"Hello," she said back.

He fought to keep his hands to himself. Why must she be so distracting? "That's not what I meant to say."

"It wasn't?"

"I meant to walk you home."

"That's an action, not a phrase," she teased as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "Unless you meant to say, ‘May I escort you home?'"

Percy's chest—and groin—went tight watching her slender fingers play with her hair. "I would never be so well-mannered."

"Would you say, ‘I shall escort you home'? Because I like a man who takes initiative."

"Danny."

"The mere fact you would bring me home at all negates your call to ungentlemanliness."

Percy lost his fight and reached for her, running a knuckle down her cheek and across those lips, refusing to hope. "What are you really doing here?"

"You didn't come to me." Miss Composure fiddled with her fingers, the action innocent and self-conscious and entirely charming. "I waited, you see, and I don't like waiting. I won't be one of those women who sit around waiting for a man to call. I've had man after man call, and I sat there like I am supposed to, but I won't do it anymore. Er—what I'm supposed to, I mean. Not that I have men parading through my drawing room... I'm saying this all wrong."

Percy couldn't believe his ears. "You're babbling."

She nodded. "I'm aware, and it's embarrassing, but I have something to say, and I refuse to stop until I say it."

"I'm listening." Percy strained not to miss a single, rushed word.

"I want you. I came to call on you . And I must tell you, I don't envy men the anxiety of it all." She dropped her hands and nodded with satisfaction. "Now that I've said my piece, I'll be going."

She turned on her heel.

She made it to the treeline before Percy took off after her, his heart pounding.

"Wait!" Percy tripped over a root in the dark, the moonlight not extending to the forest floor.

Danny marched on as if night vision was among her many talents.

Percy struggled along, his brain racing. "Would you stop?"

"Leave your audience wanting more," she said, not stopping.

"This isn't theatre." Percy cursed at another tree root. "I'm not wearing the right shoes to chase you."

"Exactly!"

Percy glanced up at her triumphant expression, seeing she'd mercifully stopped, and he took a moment to catch his breath.

"Now you see," she said, "I am the chase-e... chaser?"

Percy shook his head at their ridiculous farce. Must have been the lack of oxygen to his lungs because he matched her lunacy. "Well, I refuse to be the chas-te . We both know I'd never play it credibly."

"I thought this wasn't the theatre."

"I don't know what this is!" Percy threw his arms wide. "It's the middle of the night, I'm not wearing boots, and you just confessed your dishonorable intentions if I'm not hallucinating. What am I supposed to think?" How could he stop from hoping?

She huffed, her arms crossing over her chest. "That you can't wait to see me again tomorrow."

Percy rubbed his temple. He'd lost feeling in his toes five minutes ago and neither of them seemed coherent enough to talk plainly. She was overly tired too. That must be the reason she was here. A good night's sleep and she'd regret reaching out her hand.

He turned on his heel, suddenly not sure he could manage the next twelve hours. "I'm going to bed." There was little concern for her wellbeing on the way home. The madwoman could take on hungry animals, unfortunate poachers, and blasted tree roots in her current state.

"You can't go now ." She traversed the root-lined floor with little trouble—proving him right—and came nose to chest with him. "I'll have your answer, sir."

"What answer?" He glanced around, certain he'd suffered food poisoning from dinner and was even now in his bed in the throes of fever. "You didn't ask any bloody questions."

She shook her head. "The question was implied."

This must have been why Hamish and Renard had turned to politics and charity. Nothing seemed complicated after standing toe to toe with a woman.

"Take mercy on me," he said. "What question am I to answer?"

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Do you want to see me tomorrow?"

"Don't answer a question with a question."

"Yes, fine. I'll see you tomorrow." He paused. "If you wish?"

"When?"

"What?"

"When will I see you?"

Percy held his head. "Dawn. Before the rooster crows. Before the dairyman." Now he was babbling.

"Don't use that tone. No one is forcing you to visit."

Percy dropped the charade. "Danny, you don't need to do this." The mere fact she was here to mend their friendship after what he'd subjected her to was too much. "You needn't play the martyr. I can never make up for what happened today, and you should feel no obligation to continue our acquaintance based on the circumstances. We are neighbors. Obviously, avoiding each other is out of the question, but we can limit our exposure. Take turns excusing ourselves from the obligatory events."

The words burned, and the burn lingered, leaving Percy's insides little better than a melting pot of revulsion and regret.

"You don't wish to be friends any longer?" she asked.

Percy studied her in the dark, convinced the shadows were the reason her expression looked fallen. "I didn't say that."

Her gaze lifted and the moonlight caressed her face. "Which is it, Percy? You're either so disgusted with my reaction in the alley that you wish to be rid of me, or you can overlook my behavior this afternoon and we may continue as we have been."

What the hell was she talking about? Percy blinked down at her, and because it bore vocalizing... "What the hell are you talking about?" She couldn't think she'd done anything wrong? "If you mean your screaming, I thought it ingenious."

Her brows furrowed. "Screaming? Who said anything about screaming?"

"You did."

"No, I didn't."

"Woman!" Percy grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her gaze to meet his. "Speak plainly, Danny. What am I to find so heinous that I would walk away?" The idea was laughable.

"My... reaction to that man's knife." Her jaw tightened and her eyes went blank, hollow. "Don't bother denying you didn't notice."

Of course he'd noticed. Percy still couldn't quell his surging hatred for the man who'd elicited such a perfect sound from her mouth. "What of it?"

Her mouth gaped. Closed. Opened. "You're repulsed by it." She frowned. "Aren't you?"

"I told you days ago I wasn't." How many times must he repeat himself?

Danny stared up at him.

Apparently once more.

Percy tipped up her chin and enunciated his words. "You. Are. Perfect."

She sniffed and wiped her cheek.

And now she was bloody crying.

Heaving, really. Good God, how much water could pour from a woman's face?

Percy patted his shirt and trousers helplessly in search of a scrap of fabric to offer her.

"You—" Her voice broke. "You don't know what that means to me. I feel..."

Percy offered his sleeve, willing her to finish her thought before he went mad.

When she'd delicately dabbed at her wet cheeks, she smiled up at him, eyes bright. "I feel better, thank you."

Percy knew that wasn't what she'd set out to say, but he wouldn't press her now that she'd found her composure. Since this seemed as good a time as any, he offered his own damning statement. "I thought you'd never wish to see me again after what I did to those men." Remembering, Percy gritted his teeth. How easy it was to shut off his mind and let his body do the work even now, like a devil pulling his willing strings.

Danny cocked a brow. "You disarmed them expertly and with little bloodshed. What on Earth would I find disagreeable about that?"

Percy rubbed his neck. Surely, he didn't need to explain this to a proper lady? "Because I hurt them without thought or remorse. I may have finished the job if you hadn't been there."

"The men were going to kill us," Danny said.

How was she not understanding? "But my past—"

"We all have a past. Pasts we must face and accept. There are things in mine that are abhorrent, things I would never wish to share with another living soul."

Percy shook his head. Even now, she downplayed his demons and willed him to condemn her for having her own. "Nothing you could say would change how I see you. Nothing."

"Percy, you can't say that until you know the truth."

"Enough!" How could she not see how perfect she was? "I don't bloody care about your past."

She threw her hands in the air. "I don't care about yours, either!"

"Good!"

"We'll never speak of this again, then."

"Great!" Thank God . "I'm going to kiss you now."

"You should."

"Fine!"

Their mouths came together, more teeth than lips, and their bodies seemed to mutually sigh at the contact.

Percy ran his fingers through her hair, and the moan that escaped her throat was a match to the one drawn from his own lips. The tension between them bypassed simple lust. This was the sealing of a contract, an unspoken agreement that nothing of the last few hours changed anything. Though confusion ricocheted through Percy's mind like a loose rubber ball, their friendship remained intact, possibly stronger than before.

Percy vowed it would stay that way.

He broke their kiss to press his lips to her temple.

"This friendship between us, I tell you I won't abuse it again," he vowed. "You'll be safe with me. I'll keep you safe." God damn, he was begging, but he'd do far more humiliating prostration to keep her in his life. "Danny, I will—"

She stopped his words with a finger to his lips. "You talk too much, Percy. Kiss me if you need to move your lips."

Everything she said was so agreeable.

He growled low in his chest, taking her command as commandment. "As you wish, my lady."

Temperaments compatible, bodily chemistry more so, there was no use dissecting the connection between them. Self-reflection was for scholars and men with too much free time to preoccupy themselves. So, Percy did as he was told and kissed her with oblivious pleasure. Only kissing tonight. There was no need to rush. This time, he'd do this right.

He captured her mouth again, dipping his tongue between her inviting lips, and promised there'd be no more silly missteps.