The Daring Miss Darcy (Lost Ladies of London 4)

Estelle sat with her head bowed, her hands clasped in her lap. “I tried, many times, spent sleepless nights planning my escape. But I knew too much. Though Madame Bonnay became my protector, the men would have killed me rather than take the risk I might pass information to the authorities.”

All the time he’d been carousing the ballrooms, bedding women who took his fancy in the hope of banishing this woman from his mind, she was living in squalor, doing heaven knows what to stay alive.

The thought roused a crippling sense of inadequacy.

“Did you commit any criminal acts?” Vane almost scoffed at his own question. No smuggler would give her board and lodgings without asking for something in return.

“I acted as a lookout, distributed contraband. Once, I dressed as a laundress and took receipt of a couple of kegs of spirits hidden beneath newly washed linen while the revenue officers sat a few feet away supping ale.” She looked up at him, sadness brimming in her eyes. “And so the answer is yes, Ross. I have lied, cheated and stolen. I have bribed men to turn a blind eye to my crimes.”

Vane dragged a hand down his face. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

Damn, he wished she’d not told him.

Now the small part of him that so desperately needed to despise her swelled with admiration for her strength and courage.

A sudden noise from the room next door captured their attention. The loud groan

could well have been the sound of a weary passenger relieved to have reached his destination. The creak of the bed may well have conjured an image of the poor fellow collapsing with exhaustion, but the groans became grunts. The banging grew louder, more insistent.

Vane met Estelle’s gaze, the flush of her cheeks reminding him of the innocent young woman who’d captured his heart. She had been so full of life, so vibrant and vivacious. Now a deep sadness lingered behind those wide eyes. She may not have lost her life on The Torrens, but she had lost something of herself that day.

“May I ask if you’ve seen my brother?” she suddenly said over the amorous din. “Is he well? Is he happy?”

“Fabian lives on an island off the Devonshire coast,” Vane said, as eager as she to mask the intimate sounds coming from the room next door. “He commands a fleet of merchant ships and has made quite a name for himself.”

A woman’s cries of pleasure rent the air though they were fake. He could tell.

Vane swallowed deeply. “Fabian and Lillian married recently. He kidnapped her in the hope it would persuade me to search for you. As it turns out, they’re in love.”

Estelle blinked. “Good heavens, I don’t know which piece of information to address first.” She fell silent, lost in her own thoughts. “I’m glad he’s happy.”

“Oh, he is happy beyond words.” Vane could hear the thread of jealousy in his tone. “But since his man Mackenzie spotted you in Paris, Fabian has not stopped looking for you. He will be relieved to know you’re safe and well.”

She clutched her hands to her chest and closed her eyes briefly, looked every bit the serene angel who’d come to save him in the dank alley.

“You cannot tell him I’m alive. Fabian must forget about me.” The words as must you echoed in his head though they never left her lips. “I’m not the same person. Too much has happened. Society would never accept me.”

Vane gave a mocking snort. “Society does not look favourably on any of us. Your brother is in trade. A rogue ruined my sister years ago. And as for me … well …”

“But you’re the Marquess of Trevane. People will make allowances. At some point, you must take a wife of noble birth else the ancestral line will stop with you.”

After a quick bolt to the finish line, the wild activities next door came to an abrupt end.

“I am not the marrying kind, regardless of my title and position. When I’m dead, I’ll not give a fig who sleeps in my ancestors’ bed.”

“You never used to think that way.”

“Too much has happened,” he said, repeating her words. “I’m not the person you remember.”

“No, there is rather a lot more of you.” Something akin to admiration flashed in her eyes. She scanned the breadth of his shoulders, absently moistened her lips. “One thing is certain.”

“What is that?”

“Neither of us smile like we used to. We have turned into morbid cynics during our years apart. Life has lost all meaning.”

He was about to tell her that things would have been different had she not abandoned him, but pride kept him from opening his mouth.

A suffocating silence pressed heavily upon him.