Chapter Twenty-One
It was nearing midnight when Phin crept along the darkened mews behind the Duke of Lindley’s family home in Mayfair.
He’d spent the evening with Maggie and Delia at a musicale hosted by one of his sister’s longtime friends.
It was a small gathering and a rather quaint affair which had Phin fighting the urge to jump out of his skin the entire time.
For the last several nights—no matter what his plans were—he’d eventually made his way here. Though he trusted Iago and the additional men he’d hired to do their job properly, Phin couldn’t seem to stay away. He was driven to see to her protection personally.
With her parents out of town and her brother at his separate bachelor residence, she was always alone in a grand old house with minimal staff—certainly, none of which were trained as effective bodyguards.
He needed to be there.
Ironic, really, considering he’d been very careful to avoid her everywhere else.
His discreet inquiries into her social schedule had allowed him to ensure he avoided the events and gatherings she was expected to attend.
With the social whirl in full motion, it was not terribly difficult, though he’d had to endure a few minor arguments and curious glares from his sister when he’d altered a couple of their plans with little explanation.
He knew his absence would be perceived by Eleanor as clear avoidance. Knew it and hated it. But didn’t change his behavior.
She would believe his interest in her had been selfish and lascivious and deceitful, despite what he’d said when they’d last parted. She’d think he lied to her and used her.
Perhaps he had.
His gut clenched at the thought, as it did whenever he considered what the woman must be thinking of him. But it couldn’t be helped. The last warning, arriving after he’d spent the most wonderful afternoon with her, lingered in his awareness like a deadly poison.
Someone was watching him. They’d noticed the time he spent with Eleanor. And they didn’t like it.
Whoever wanted the necklace, also believed themselves to have a claim over Eleanor.
He wished he’d listened when Mishra had asked him not to involve her. But he’d been too focused on the goal, too concerned with his objective. He’d believed he was enough to stand between her and any threat.
He was an arse.
He should’ve found another way.
Now, all he could do was heed the threat and stay away from her.
Phin smiled ruefully at the thought. Staying away had been so much more difficult than he’d expected. Though he had men watching her from afar—prepared to counter any threat—he always found himself here.
Settling into a discreet alcove built into the garden wall, he whistled the soft call of a night bird and a moment later, Iago emerged from the nearby shadows.
“Anything?” he whispered.
“Quiet as a church,” Iago replied. “The others just checked in about five minutes ago. Nothing from their vantages either.”
Phin nodded.
Attacking the home of a small shopkeeper was one thing. Attacking the daughter of a duke was quite another.
He might not know who was behind the escalating threats, but he had no intention of disregarding or underestimating the lengths to which they’d go.
They’d followed the necklace all the way from India, had very possibly captured Barnaby to assist in their purpose, and had boldly entered Phin’s house in the middle of the day.
There may not have been any move made against Eleanor yet. But if they ever thought to do so, they wouldn’t get far.
“I’ll take the next few hours,” Phin said. “Get some rest.”
The other man nodded before turning to silently walk away, his lanky form slipping easily into the night shadows.
Phin took up his usual spot near the gate, which he’d propped open to allow quick passage should it be required.
From his position pressed against the wall he could see the entire breadth of Lindley’s house as it faced the garden.
The garden itself was rather grand for being in town, but it was meticulously landscaped and left only a few areas that offered concealment to anyone who might wish to lurk in the dark.
If anyone approached the house, his men would see. If anyone tried to skulk about in the garden, Phin would know it.
Though many wouldn’t believe him capable of it, he knew well how to be patient when the task required it. As he watched the house, noting the rooms where the windows glowed with soft light, he wondered what Eleanor might be doing in that great mansion all by herself.
Was she lonely?
Did she go to bed each night thinking of how she’d fallen apart in his arms?
He did.
Did she hate him for his apparent abandonment these past days? Did she believe him a conscienceless, selfish cad?
He recalled Mishra’s words from that day in his shop.
She was far too good for him. He never should have put her in the position of requiring guards—even secret ones.
As he scanned the garden, seeking anything that might suggest danger, his breath caught mid-inhale.
He thought her an apparition at first, a creation of his imagination.
She wore a gown of pale lavender that nearly glowed against the much darker blues and greens of the night garden and her hair fell over her shoulder in a thick, twisting braid…
as if she’d gotten halfway ready for bed then decided to take a midnight stroll.
She moved silently into the night, slipping from the darkness of the house to glide through the garden under the pale light of a crescent moon.
In that poignant moment, as he saw her moving along the path, he forgot why he was there. His only purpose was her. She was a quiet, glowing flame. He, an utterly bewitched moth.
Without making any conscious decision to do so, Phin crept closer.
Slipping through the open gate, he continued quietly into the garden, watching as she glided toward the fountain in the center.
Made entirely of gleaming marble, the figure of a Grecian woman gently poured water from a vase into a pool below which was surrounded by a ledge large enough to sit upon.
Lowering herself to the edge of the pool, Eleanor leaned on one hand while trailing the other through the water. Her expression was pensive and subtly tense.
What was she thinking in such a soft and solitary moment?
He almost opened his mouth to ask her. It was something he wouldn’t have hesitated to do if he’d been standing next to her—if she’d known he was there.
But he was not her companion on this night. He was a spy. A lurker in her world. And he was fairly certain she would not appreciate him in such a role.
He was nearly halfway to her before he realized he’d gone too far. As he halted his slow advance to begin a silent retreat, he heard a disturbing sound from the corner of the garden near the house.
She must have heard it too as she tensed and turned her gaze in that direction.
Though everything in him clamored to go to her—protect her—Phin stilled, hoping that the intruder had not noticed his presence in the deeper shadows of the garden.
Straining to hear more, he slowly withdrew Claudia from his boot.
With the familiar weight and smoothness of the blade’s handle against his palm, he listened and watched.
Eleanor’s gasp cut the night in the same moment the shadows shifted against the house and rushed swiftly forward.
As if suddenly released from a taut tether, Phin lunged into a sprint, vaulting over hedges and leaping past flowering bushes.
His stare was locked upon the large, agile figure dashing from the night, a wicked curved scimitar held in his hand.
The attacker was quick, but so was Phin.
Eleanor had leapt to her feet, but stood frozen in place, staring at the black-clothed man rushing toward her. She still hadn’t turned to seen Phin running from the darkness behind her, but the intruder must’ve noticed him as it was now clear that the man was heading straight for him.
As he sped past Eleanor at the fountain, Phin instructed, “Go back inside. Lock the door.”
He had only a split-second to note her gasp of shock as she stumbled back a step before he met the intruder with a clash of steel.
Phin caught the swing of the man’s scimitar with the edge of his blade, forcing the blow to the side.
Continuing his momentum from the evasion, Phin ducked low and lunged alongside the other man to slice across his ribs.
The intruder let out a hiss of pain and spun in a graceful counterattack that slashed across Phin’s forearm, nearly making him drop his weapon. Keeping his gaze locked on the man swathed in black, Phin crept backwards, trying to lure the attacker away from Eleanor.
In his peripheral vision, he could see her still standing stiff and frightened by the fountain, staring at them with wide eyes. He wanted to shout at her again to run to the house, but he didn’t want to turn the attacker’s attention back in her direction.
Another swing of the scimitar had Phin diving to the ground in a tumbling roll that brought him swiftly back to his feet a short distance away. If he could keep the man’s attention long enough to draw him away from Eleanor, perhaps she’d finally make a dash toward safety.
But the man did not follow. Instead, he stilled, then glanced over his shoulder.
That was when Phin heard someone approaching. More than one someone. He hoped it was the men Iago had placed to watch the house rather than assistance for his opponent. Tossing his knife back and forth to reclaim the other man’s focus, Phin taunted him with a challenging grin.
“Giving up already?” he asked, back further into the shadows at the edge of the garden.
Having learned to defend himself in the back alleys and twisting lanes of foreign cities, Phin preferred fighting in the darkness, where he could more easily evade and surprise his opponent.
Another slice of the scimitar came close enough to his face that he felt the brush of air on his skin.
Phin reacted with a sudden crouch and spin, extending his foot to sweep the other man’s legs out from under him.
He landed with a thud as his scimitar went skittering across the stone path.
Hoping to claim the weapon before the intruder could, Phin leapt toward it. But Eleanor got there first. He stared in shock as she stood with her feet braced apart, both hands gripping tight to the blade’s handle, her eyes wide and her breath passing through her lips in rapid pants.
She was supposed to run from the fight. Not take the first opportunity to join in.
Phin was stunned and shaken. She’d never looked so beautiful.