Chapter Eight
“Lady Alice, I did not mean—”
“I lost my brother long before he drew his last breath, my lord.” Her words cut him off.
She got out of her seat then and moved back to the window. Jamie stayed where he was, watching her. Her arms folded tight around her waist as if to protect herself from something. Memories, Jamie thought, as he was no threat to her, and vowed right then never to be so again.
This woman had suffered deeply; he could see that clearly now.
“Sorry is a word that should mean something to you in this moment, Lady Alice, but I know it doesn’t. However, I am that, and as someone who went through what your brother did, I know how he suffered.” Jamie regained his feet, but did not approach her.
It wasn’t an easy thing to say, acknowledging the suffering, but right then she needed to hear those words, because only then might she decide to trust him.
“And yet there you stand before me with all the appearance of a gentleman who doesn’t suffer.”
The anger came then, fast and fierce, even though he knew she was lashing out in retaliation for his previous words. Jamie took a few seconds to calm down before he spoke.
“Because I do not show it does not mean I don’t battle my demons, Lady Alice, as do my friends.”
She sighed. “Forgive me if you thought I was in any way suggesting you didn’t go through what my brother did, Lord Stafford. That was not my intention. In fact, I don’t know what I meant by those words.” She didn’t look at him, her eyes still on the window. “I had believed Charles strong, but—”
“I survived because I had my friends, Lady Alice.” He cut her off. “Without them, I would not have. If your brother was alone, then his struggle would have been greater.”
“So yes, I am seeking revenge on behalf of Charles, Lord Stafford, and there is nothing you can do or say to change my mind on this.” She returned to her seat then, and Jamie retook his.
He looked at the uneaten plate of cake and realized that, for the first time in a long while, he had lost his appetite. He also knew in that moment there was nothing he could do or say to dissuade her from her revenge, just as no one could sway him.
“Very well, but perhaps we could work together in finding him, and then we will both be safe,” Jamie said.
She turned in her seat, studying him. Jamie withstood the look. Anthony’s three aunts, after all, who were world class at it, had stared him down many times.
“You are just saying that so you can keep track of my movements, aren’t you?” Her amber eyes narrowed. “Let me assure you I do not now, nor ever, need a man to protect me, Lord Stafford, and especially not one who is a stranger.”
“Are you always so untrusting, Lady Alice?”
She was right, of course. He was trying to ensure she did not stumble into danger, or get close to the animal that was Kenneth Jackson, but he would not be telling her that.
“Yes,” she said, chin lifting. “I have been given many examples in my lifetime of what trusting someone can bring me. I no longer do so without knowing a person well, and even then—”
“I take your meaning,” he interrupted, raising a hand.
“Excellent,” she added primly, which only annoyed him more.
This woman was a danger to Jamie simply because she could get a reaction out of him, and not many could, save perhaps his oldest friends.
“Why were you fighting in that ring?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “You, a wealthy, powerful peer of the realm, stripped to the waist and behaving like those beneath you.”
“Not all beneath us are common, Lady Alice,” he said, his voice roughening to a growl.
“I did not say they were. And do not think that I believe money and title maketh a man, Lord Stafford, because I have ample evidence to the contrary.”
Jamie’s jaw clenched. Why did he enjoy sparring with her when she wrenched so many emotions from him?
Why did she intrigue him when so few ever had?
Her wits were sharp, her intellect keener still.
Anyone who looked at her and saw an empty-headed, gently born woman would be sorely mistaken.
Lady Alice was far more dangerous than that, and he was fast coming to understand it.
“I have my reasons for fighting,” he said. “Reasons I will not discuss with you, my lady. But you must not go there alone again. It is far too dangerous, as evidenced by those two men mistreating you when I found you.”
She studied him, her expression unreadable. Then, to his relief, she nodded once.
“I will make you a deal, Lady Alice.” He held her gaze, searching for something, anything he could read. “If you tell me what you know, I will share my information with you.”
“I will do that, Lord Stafford, if you promise to take me with you when you get a lead on Kenneth Jackson.”
He hesitated. He didn’t want to say yes because most of his hunts for Jackson took place in the early hours, and in places no lady should ever be. Yet he knew she would simply take it upon herself to do the same without him.
“Very well,” he said at last. “You have a deal. But I insist that if the situation we face is dangerous, you will take instruction from me.”
“Absolutely not. I take instruction from nobody. I can shoot better than most men and am handy with a knife.”
“That may be, my lady,” Jamie said evenly, though his pulse had begun to thrum, “but a man’s strength will always be greater than yours.”
“I am stronger than I look,” she countered, with that infuriating gleam in her eyes. “And I have someone who ensures that is the case.”
“Who?”
“That is no concern of yours, Lord Stafford.”
“Your aunt—”
“Knows none of what we speak of, and I wish to keep it that way.”
He studied her for long seconds. She didn’t flinch beneath his gaze, instead, lifting her chin, meeting him head-on. She had courage—too much of it, but that could land her in trouble.
Jamie could think of no way to stop Lady Alice, no way to keep her safe. If he excluded her, she’d continue her inquiries alone, but if he included her, at least he could watch her movements.
“Very well.”
She extended her hand, and he stared at it.
“Have you never shaken the hand of a lady, my lord?”
The little witch was mocking him now. He took her fingers. Neither of them wore gloves, and her skin was warm in his. The moment lingered longer than it should have before he released her. Jamie barely resisted the urge to step back. He’d felt that touch all the way to his toes.
“What information do you have?” he asked, voice rougher than he intended.
“I have several informants and have followed multiple leads, but I have yet to run Jackson to ground. He is elusive,” she said, blowing out an irritated breath that made her look like a frustrated child.
“He is that,” Jamie murmured. “But between us, we may succeed. We must.”
The words came out harder than he’d planned. He had no wish to spend his life chasing Kenneth Jackson, but feared now that he’d begun, only success, or Jackson’s destruction, would appease him.
“Does your father know what you are doing, Lady Alice?”
“He is in France, and has been for many years.”
Her voice cooled, shutters slamming down behind her eyes. Whatever had passed between Lord Smythe and his daughter was not for him to know, so Jamie let it drop.
They talked for another half hour. She was sharp and direct, and he found himself admiring her mind as much as her spirit.
Only later, when he rode away, did Jamie realize the true danger he had invited into his life. Not just Kenneth Jackson.
But her.
Because there was something about Lady Alice that made him forget every vow of caution he had ever sworn. And that, he suspected grimly, might prove his downfall.
The woman had nerve. He would give her that. But courage, no matter how admirable, could get her killed.
Jamie turned his horse down a quieter street away from hawkers and the rumble of carriages, with thoughts churning over and over inside his head.
Alice’s information had filled gaps in his own, and she had searched in places he had not, but still, they were no closer to locating Jackson.
Partnership meant trust, and trust was a luxury he rarely afforded himself with anyone but those closest to him.
When he reached his townhouse, he’d collect his sword and leave again immediately for Angelo’s. Jamie needed an outlet and exercise would provide that as it always did. Fencing would mean he could quiet the thoughts inside his head briefly.
He thought to protect Lady Alice Smythe from her reckless actions. Now, he was beginning to wonder who would protect him from her.