She sucked in a breath. Waited.
But he waited, too. More cautious, this time.
She would only get one chance at him—in the instant he came through the door. She couldn’t hesitate, couldn’t fail. Her future and Deverell’s depended on it.
The lock scraped.
She breathed out, sucked in another breath and held it. Clutched the dagger shard and tensed…
The door flung open, shoved forcefully as she’d foreseen. It banged against the wall.
A man stepped in.
Eyes closing, she swung with all her might, driving the daggerpoint hard for his chest.
Deverell saw, grabbed her wrist lightning quick, crushingly in that first instant, but he immediately gentled his hold as he held the point of the wicked-looking makeshift dagger away from his waistcoat. She gasped and fought his strength. “Phoebe.”
Her eyes flew wide, lifted to his face.
For an instant she simply stared at him, then the dagger fell from her fingers, all the fight drained out of her and she flung herself at him. “Oh, thank God—it’s you!”
She clutched him, hugged him—then pulled back and framed his face. “How did you find me? That man, whoever he is—”
She broke off as Gervase poked his head through the doorway. He looked her up and down, grinned, then looked at Deverell. “I’ll tell them.”
Deverell nodded. He couldn’t speak. He could barely stand as relief and so much more poured through him.
Turning, Gervase went quickly down the stairs.
Dragging in a still-too-tight breath, Deverell returned his attention to Phoebe, looked at her for an instant—at her face, her eyes, glowing and alive, undimmed…then he hauled her into his arms and hugged her until she squealed. Even then, eyes closed, battling emotions that were simply too strong, he had to breathe deeply again before he could force himself to ease his hold and set her back enough to examine her properly.
Her afternoon gown of green cambric was rumpled and crumpled, but not torn; numerous heavy dark red locks had come loose from her chignon, but otherwise he could see no damage. No sign she’d been molested.
Most reassuring was the clear, open expression on her face and the martial light gleaming in her violet eyes.
His reaction was so profound it all but rocked his world.
Hands cupping her shoulders, he looked into her face, met those bright eyes, and struggled to behave normally. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She nodded. Far from swooning or even wilting, she seemed energized. “I hit him with the chamber pot, but he ducked and it broke. Then he tried to grab my wrists but your maneuver worked—much to his amazement. I tried to knee him but he shifted—I almost got him, though. And then…” She frowned lightly. “I can’t remember what more, but then his butler called him away. He flung me aside but I wasn’t hurt.”
She was babbling but seemed quite chuffed at her resourcefulness.
Then her eyes found his. After a moment, she tilted her head, then said, “I might not have defeated him, but thanks to what you taught me—to all you’ve taught me—he didn’t harm me. And now you’ve rescued me, so…”
He expected her to say “all is well”; he would have sworn from her tone that that was what she intended. Instead, her pause lengthened. He waited; buffeted by relief, joy, triumph, pride in her, appreciation of her courage and so much more, he was still battling to find his emotional feet.
Then her expression sobered; her chin set, determination in every line. “As soon as this is over, the first chance we have to speak alone, we must talk.”
He blinked. Talk? While one part of his mind had him nodding in complete agreement, another part was scrambling to fathom her direction. Most especially the source of her sudden serious determination.
She glanced at the door, a frown forming. “Who was Gervase going to tell?”
Mentally shaking his head, somewhat desperately realigning his wits, he refocused on what lay before them. “The others?
?Dalziel, Christian, and Tristan. They’re speaking with Lowther, distracting him. They weren’t going to come to the point until we had you safe.”
Casting a last glance around the room—it was concealed between other rooms and in between two floors, which was why they hadn’t discovered it earlier—he steered her to the door. “Come—we should go downstairs.”