Swearing silently, Derek began to round a comer.Īs he expected, they made their move. Perhaps they had been sent by his rival Ivo Jenner to cause mischief. Deliberately he changed his pace, and they adjusted to match. Two sets of heavy footsteps, belonging to men. Something about them caused a warning prickle along his spine. Gradually Derek became aware of footsteps close behind him. A soft feminine hand could do a great deal of damage when it was wrapped around an iron cudgel, or when it clutched a stocking weighted with a pound or two of shot. Women were frequently used in such plots as bait or lookouts, or even assailants. He was familiar with the schemes used to prey upon the unwary, the few efficient moments it took to rob a man and crush histhroat.
He had grown up in the streets-born in the gutter, nursed through infancy by a group of ragged prostitutes, and educated in his youth by criminals of every kind. Derek turned away, striding along the broken pavement. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to go to her, inquire about her well-being, express concern for her safety.īut he was no gentleman. If she remained here much longer, there was no doubt she would be raped or robbed, even beaten and left for dead. People glanced furtively at the woman, but they passed her without breaking pace. It was possible she was waiting for an errant husband, or perhaps she was a shopgirl who had lost her way. The lock of hair that strayed from beneath her hood was an indistinct brown. Her gray cloak parted in the front to reveal a high- necked gown made of dark cloth. But if she was a whore, she was dressed strangely for it. No decent female would be found here, especially after dusk. The area was crawling with beggars, prostitutes, swindlers, thieves. James, the buildings were a crumbling mass of filth. Here, a short but significant distance from the splendor of St. Such a sight wasn't unusual in the streets of London, especially in the rookery, where human suffering was visible in all its variety. Derek Craven's hard green eyes flickered over her as he came from the back- alley gaming hell.
She leaned against the wall of a crumbling lodging house, her shoulders hunched as if she were ill. The lone figure of a woman stood in the shadows. Three Weddings and a Kiss, September 1995Įxcerpt of Dreaming of You by Lisa Kleypas Mass Market Paperback / e-Book / audiobookĬhristmas Eve At Friday Harbor, October 2011Ĭhristmas Eve At Friday Harbor, November 2010
0 kommentar(er)
