Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The thumping sound above stairs had Theo straightening. "Miss Darrow," he called. He thought he'd heard a sharp cry. Perhaps she had stubbed her toe amid the chaos upstairs or kicked the door, annoyed at herself for kissing him again. "If this is part of our game, know I am up to my elbows in ladies' gloves."

Silence.

Not a faint chuckle.

Not a teasing or flirtatious remark.

Theo dropped the bale of gloves onto the glass counter, strode into the hall and gripped the newel post. "If this is a ploy to lure me to your bedchamber, know I would come willingly."

Silence.

Theo might have returned to the mundane task of glove sorting, but a pang in his gut forced him to mount the stairs two at a time. He knew his fears were founded when he reached the landing and saw Miss Darrow lying on the floor.

Saints, have mercy !

Theo froze.

Her face was as pale as a cadaver, her legs akimbo.

Her eyes were shut as if the darkness was her solace, too.

A childhood memory assaulted him. A shrill scream had brought his sleepy-eyed brothers racing out of the bedchamber. Four years old and tripping over his nightshirt, Theo had peered around Aaron, desperate to witness the spectacle at the bottom of the stairs. The image of his mother's awkward pose—the blood streaking her golden hair, the bulging whites of her eyes—haunted him to this day.

Gathering his wits, Theo stepped over her heavy valise, dropped to his knees and tried to rouse the lady. Panic assailed him. Blood trickled from a tiny cut on her hairline. Even a minor head wound could have disastrous consequences.

"Miss Darrow." Theo's hands shook as he stroked her limbs to ensure none were broken. He checked her pulse, relieved to feel a gentle pounding beneath his fingers. Gathering her into his arms, he uttered, "I'm going to move you now." He'd been powerless to save his mother, but he'd be damned if he'd let Miss Darrow die. "Hold on to me."

She lay limp in his arms, her breath barely a whisper.

Theo held her close and descended the stairs.

He exited the shop, shouting for his coachman to open the carriage door. "For pity's sake, hurry."

The burly fellow scrambled into action. "Stone the crows. What happened to her, sir?"

"Miss Darrow tripped over the hem of her pelisse and tumbled down the stairs." It was Delphine's pelisse and far too long for her. "Fetch her valise from the first-floor landing and secure the front door. The key is in the lock. Hurry, man. She needs a physician. "

Reminiscent of the day Miss Darrow helped bundle him into a vehicle, Theo used brute strength to place her on the seat. Once inside, he drew her onto his lap and continued speaking, willing her to wake.

"There's something to be said for Keats." He stroked her hair from her brow, his stomach twisting into knots. "The line he draws between good and evil is often unclear. Perhaps it's a testament to his humble beginnings."

His hopes of rousing a response came to nought.

Godby reappeared. He threw the valise atop the box, settled on his perch and flicked the reins. The carriage lurched into motion seconds before the nosy silversmith came dashing across the street.

Theo checked his pocket watch. They would miss their appointment with Pickering's mobile library. But all was not lost. They could break the black wax, open the ominous note and force the librarian to confess. They could interview the barrow boy, assuming he was unharmed. Any insignificant detail might be pertinent to the case.

As the carriage raced towards Aldgate, Theo found himself staring at Miss Darrow's lips. They were soft and plump, but that's not what made their kisses unique.

An unknown ingredient had roused a fever in his blood—a secret something entwined with the hypnotic scent of jasmine, the warmth of her lips, and the vibrancy of her adventurous spirit.

He shouldn't have touched her today. He shouldn't have put his mouth to hers and drunk until intoxicated. How was he to solve her problems when every intimate interaction complicated matters? Yet, the need to taste her again was like a silent call from the soul.

Was seduction not part of their game ?

Did she not welcome his advances?

His gaze moved over her delicate features. She was as fragile as fine china, yet beneath this dainty exterior was a determined warrior.

Who was she? What had happened to her parents?

Where had she learnt her dressmaking skills?

Had she ever been in love?

The need to know more about her proved compelling. Perhaps she had been plagued by a similar compulsion when saving him from death's door. She had certainly probed his mind as he lay in bed recuperating.

When they arrived at Fortune's Den, Aaron was outside, arms folded and glaring at The Burnished Jade, the ladies' club across the street.

Aaron opened the carriage door, looked at Miss Darrow's lifeless body nestled in Theo's lap and growled, "What the hell happened?"

"Miss Darrow fell down the stairs." Theo shuffled to the edge of the seat, certain Aaron was imagining a horrid scene from their childhood. "Send Sigmund for a physician."

Aaron shouted for Sigmund and barked orders when he came charging out, fists clenched as if expecting trouble. "Fetch Gentry. Tell him it's urgent. Go now."

Sigmund did not dally. Mr Gentry had a private practice in Leadenhall Street. Aaron paid him to attend the monthly boxing bouts in the Den's basement.

"How long has she been unconscious?" Aaron hauled Miss Darrow into his arms like she was as light as a babe.

"Ten, maybe fifteen minutes." He knew the point behind the question. The longer she remained comatose, the more likely she had suffered a lasting injury. "She stirred as we drew into Aldgate Street but didn't open her eyes. "

"Let's pray she wakes from this stupor soon." Aaron stepped aside for Theo to alight. That's when he noticed the elegant woman in a green pelisse and matching pillbox hat hurrying towards them. "Lord, give me strength. Just when I thought matters couldn't get any worse."

Miss Lovelace, the delightful owner of The Burnished Jade, came to a crashing halt beside them. "Good heavens. What has happened to Miss Darrow? Is that blood on her forehead?"

"She fell," Theo said as Aaron turned his back on the woman he secretly admired and carried Miss Darrow inside.

"Shall I fetch a doctor?" Miss Lovelace followed Theo into Fortune's Den. "Mr Gentry is an excellent physician. His practice is a two-minute walk away."

"Thank you for your concern, but we have the matter in hand. Sigmund will return with Gentry posthaste." Knowing the woman affected Aaron like no one else, Theo invited her to stay. "You spent time with Miss Darrow at Delphine's wedding. I'm sure she would appreciate seeing a friendly face when she wakes."

"Perhaps I may be of some assistance." Miss Lovelace entered the drawing room—a private place reserved for family—and watched Aaron gently lower Miss Darrow onto the gold brocade sofa. "Though limited, I have some experience of head injuries."

"Of course you do," Aaron mocked, though he seemed determined not to look at her. "Is there anything you cannot turn your hand to, madam? Snake charming? Mapping the stars?"

Miss Lovelace raised her chin. "When a woman lives alone, she must learn to be self-sufficient. If you must know, I invited Mr Gentry to give a lecture on treating common ailments. He proved most popular with the ladies at my club."

Theo suspected Gentry's popularity had more to do with his striking countenance than his admirable profession.

Aaron surely thought so, too, because his strained smile failed to hide a flash of jealousy. "The ladies you serve are wallflowers. The attention of any man would leave them rigid in their seats."

"How parochial, Mr Chance. Never underestimate a wallflower. Just because we do not parade like broodmares at Tattersall's does not mean we are lacking."

Aaron huffed. "You are not a wallflower, madam."

"And how have you reached that conclusion?" Miss Lovelace removed a vinaigrette from her reticule and thrust it into Theo's hand. Unabashed, she raised her skirts and knelt beside Miss Darrow. "See if you can rouse her while I loosen her clothing."

"A wallflower is timid by nature." Aaron's eyes were upon her now that she had her back to him. "You're as bold as a brigadier."

Desperate to see Miss Darrow smile again, Theo pulled the stopper from the dainty bottle.

Miss Lovelace unbuttoned Miss Darrow's pelisse to expose her throat. "Wave the aromatic salts under her nose." She glanced over her shoulder and caught Aaron looking at her ankles. "As you know nothing of my personal struggles, sir, I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself."

Miss Darrow's head jerked the instant she inhaled the potent substance. She coughed, wrinkled her nose and turned her head.

Theo released a deep sigh, relief relaxing every tense muscle. "Miss Darrow? Can you hear me?" He prayed there were no lasting mental effects from the fall. That he'd have every chance to repair the damage he'd done.

Miss Lovelace touched the backs of her fingers to the patient's cheek. "Please pour her a glass of brandy, Mr Chance. It may help to revive her spirits."

Aaron obliged, though muttered something about being a lapdog. He returned and handed Miss Lovelace the glass, careful not to touch her fingers.

The brandy worked wonders. A mere sip brought the colour flooding back to Miss Darrow's cheeks. She opened her eyes, though seemed confused to find herself in a drawing room.

"Where am I?" She winced as she shifted on the sofa.

"You're at Fortune's Den," Miss Lovelace said, gripping Miss Darrow's hand and rubbing the life back into her bones. "Do you remember why? Can you recall what happened?"

"I—I'm not sure." She rambled like a bedlamite while verbally retracing her steps. "I saw Mr Franklin, the silversmith." Then she recalled Theo caressing her cheek while they were collecting gloves. "I think it was part of the forfeit."

"Forfeit?" Aaron snapped, his disapproval evident.

"It's nothing," Theo said. "Just a little game we play to pass the time."

It wasn't nothing. The intimate moments with Miss Darrow fed his newfound craving. Cravings passed, though he would never tire of kissing her.

"Don't you think your games have caused enough trouble?"

"The game is crucial to building trust."

"Yes, I remember we were kissing," Miss Darrow confessed, leaving Theo inwardly groaning. "No, that was before I ventured upstairs and discovered someone had stolen my book and diary."

Stolen! The thief had lifted the floorboards?

Was the villain after the book or the list of Miss Darrow's clients?

Miss Lovelace glanced at Theo like he had committed a mortal sin. "I'm not sure we need to know every detail, Miss Darrow."

Aaron was quick to respond. "With you being a wallflower, I imagine it unsettles your delicate sensibilities."

"I am hardly delicate. I saw you without your shirt last month and didn't swoon."

The verbal spat left Miss Darrow more confused. "Was this before or after I arrived at Fortune's Den?" She released a weary sigh as her eyes fluttered and closed. "I'm so tired I could sleep for a week."

Gentry arrived promptly, wearing a black coat with fashionable oversized lapels and carrying his bulging leather case.

"You took your time," Aaron said.

Gentry placed his bag on the low table. "I came immediately. I trust this is the lady who fell."

Miss Lovelace rose and offered the physician a beaming smile. "Thank you for coming, Mr Gentry. Miss Darrow has suffered a head injury and has only just regained consciousness."

Gentry spoke to Miss Darrow, observing her speech with keen interest. Then he stared into her beguiling eyes, checked her pulse and touched various parts of her body. "Tell me if this hurts?"

"No, sir, but I fear I must sleep."

"Do you feel nauseous? "

"No."

"Do you recall how you fell?"

Miss Darrow shook her head, though the action pained her. "I kissed Mr Chance," she mumbled. "It is enough to make any woman giddy."

Theo inwardly smiled. He'd found himself equally enthralled, though concern for Miss Darrow had him pestering Gentry for a diagnosis.

Gentry stood. "I suspect a mild concussion. Bedrest for a day or two should suffice. If you find you cannot rouse her, or there is blood from the nasal cavity or ear canal, fetch me at once."

Aaron thanked him and gestured to the door. "I'll show you out. We wouldn't want to keep you from your patients."

"I can show Mr Gentry out." Miss Lovelace straightened her jaunty hat, and her gaze shifted to the doctor. A man who would make any woman swoon. "I hoped you might visit The Burnished Jade to give a lecture on the healing power of the mind. My ladies found your last speech most informative. Miss Moorland has spoken of little else since."

Gentry bowed—though Aaron looked ready to murder someone.

"I would be happy to oblige. I shall check my diary and have my secretary send a list of suitable dates." He raised a stalling hand and a confident smile. "There's no need to see me out. I know the way."

Miss Lovelace did not take her eyes off Gentry until he left the drawing room. Excitement oozed from her pores. Her eyes sparkled like polished sapphires. "Oh, my ladies will be thrilled."

Theo wished it was dark enough to hide the taut lines etched on his brother's brow. He wished he could screw his eyes shut to avoid seeing the signs of Aaron's discomfort. As a child, he had watched Aaron build barricades to shield himself from pain. If those defences came crashing down, there'd be Armageddon.

But he couldn't worry about Aaron now. Miss Darrow needed his help to tackle her problems, problems which were mounting by the day.

"Miss Darrow needs rest." Theo was eager to leave before Aaron said something to chase Miss Lovelace away.

Sadly, Aaron failed to hold his tongue.

"Most women make a fool of themselves over Gentry."

Miss Lovelace shot Aaron a questioning look. "They do?"

"He is married to his work."

"And you think I am searching for a husband?"

"You seem eager for his company."

The lady laughed. "Do you know how hard it is to get professional men to give a lecture to ladies? Practically impossible." She took a step towards Aaron, but his firm stance didn't falter. "I cannot afford to fail, Mr Chance. Encouraging gently bred ladies to visit the club is crucial to my survival."

Aaron did not remind her women lacked the gumption needed to run a club. Nor did he suggest an Aldgate address would deter a certain class of lady.

"Tell me whose services you seek, and I shall ensure they make themselves available to you."

Miss Lovelace stumbled a little. "You will?"

"I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean."

That was a lie. Every word spoken to this woman was intended to push her away and keep Aaron's armour intact.

"What would you want in return? "

Aaron did not need time to think. "For you to remain on your side of the street. For you to close your curtains before you undress for bed. For you to pick someone other than Gentry to give a talk on the humours."

While the lady stared at him, dumbfounded, Theo crouched beside Miss Darrow. The need to see her resting comfortably in bed and to talk without interruption had him scooping her into his arms.

"I am taking Miss Darrow upstairs."

Aaron nodded. "Come to my study when she's settled. I want to know what Daventry said today and how you plan to tackle these mounting problems."

"Will you arrange for Mrs Maloney to come and sit with her?" Theo's gaze fell to the woman in his arms. Fate had dealt her a poor hand. It was up to him to shuffle the cards and redress the balance. "Miss Darrow shouldn't be alone, at least not for the next twenty-four hours."

"I'll visit Mrs Maloney and explain the situation."

Aaron was being surprisingly accommodating.

"Thank you."

Theo was about to leave when Aaron called, "You have my full support in all matters. I just ask that you keep me informed of your plans. I'd rather not hear the news from Daventry."

"I trust your counsel." Keen to show Miss Lovelace there was no finer man than Aaron, he added, "You always act in the best interests of this family. No one's opinion matters more." Aaron was the anchor that kept them all grounded.

A silent look passed between them.

The unbreakable bond of brotherhood.

"Whatever you need, it's yours," Aaron said.

Theo thanked him again but was conscious of the woman in his arms—the only woman he had ever held like this—and so made his excuses and withdrew.

Miss Darrow's eyes fluttered open when he reached the stairs, and she smiled, albeit weakly. "I think you enjoy playing the knight errant. Perhaps that's why you stole my sewing box. So you might display the qualities of a hero."

"I'm hardly a hero. I'm the scoundrel who stole your box so I had something to trade for your arousing kisses."

Her hand came to rest on his heart. "You owe me a forfeit," she uttered as he mounted the stairs. "That's not why you stole my box."

"No, but you do have the mouth of Venus." And he was more than happy to pay a penance if it pleased her. "Kissing you is like drinking the nectar of the gods. And don't challenge me on that. I mean every word."

"I believe I'm supposed to say thank you." Her smile faded, and he felt her strength seep from every muscle as she nestled into his chest and closed her eyes.

Fear crept into his heart.

What if this was their last conversation?

What if he never got to truly make amends?

What if guilt would forever be his companion?