Chapter 4
Lottie bolted out the front door of Hart’s Ace, her heart in her throat.
She ducked around a corner and fell back against the wall of the building next door, her every limb shaking. God above, was there a lady alive who had worse luck than she did?
Why, oh why, of all the gentleman she might have stumbled across, did it have to be him? The one gentleman in all of Brighton she most wished to avoid had just witnessed her fleeing the scene of a crime!
He’d known her at once. Of course, he had. He’d gotten a good, long look at her on the beach two days ago. To be fair, she’d got an eyeful of him as well, but the less time she spent thinking about what she’d seen, the better.
A lady didn’t dwell on such things. At least, she didn’t right now, while she was executing a dramatic escape.
Would he come after her?
She peeked around the edge of the building, her heart racing, but there was no sign of him or anyone else, only darkness.
There, see? She was panicking over nothing when instead she should be celebrating the twelve pounds tucked safely into the pocket of Percy’s old cloak.
She’d done it! She’d wagered, and she’d won, and soon enough Hart’s Ace with its sparkling chandeliers, velvet upholstery and unruly patrons would be a distant memory.
It was over.
She sagged against the wall at her back, her legs still shaking.
Thank goodness it was done. Her nerves couldn’t take another foray into Hart’s Ace.
She hadn’t been inside the club for more than an hour, but it felt like an eternity.
As it turned out, cheating a wealthy, powerful gentleman like Armitage Hart was a trifle nerve-wracking.
Her head thumped against the brick, the breeze coming off the channel cooling her hot cheeks. She couldn’t linger here. It was far too risky, but her lungs were on fire, and her heart was threatening to gallop out of her chest.
Once she caught her breath she’d be on her way.
Inhale, exhale, inhale again… Yes, that was much better. It was a wonder what a few deep, cleansing breaths could do to stave off a panic.
Slowly, her lungs calmed, and the ringing in her head dissipated. There! Now all she had to do was make her way back to North Laines, and no one would be the wiser—
Crash!
She jumped, her hand flying to her throat. Dear God, what in the world was that? It sounded as if someone had wrenched a door off its hinges. Perhaps one of the gentlemen inside had had a bad night at the tables, and—
“Where is she? Where the devil did she go?”
She jerked to attention, perspiration beading her forehead. There was no mistaking that voice. It was him, the man from the beach, his deep voice distorted with fury, and there could be little doubt who he was looking for.
Dear God, he was really coming after her! But why? He hadn’t noticed her counting cards, had he? She’d drawn her relieved breaths too soon!
But no, it couldn’t be. He hadn’t been anywhere near her when—
“The small lady in the long cloak, Thomas. Which way did she go? Hurry, man!”
“I—I beg your pardon, Mr. Hart. I never saw any lady.”
Mr. Hart.
Lottie slapped a hand over her mouth, a chill rushing over her. The man from the beach, the man with the dark hair and solid chest and long legs, the man who’d just chased her to the front door of Hart’s Ace like an avenging fury…
He was Armitage Hart!
Did fate have no shame? It was dreadfully unfair that such an awful gentleman as that was so mortifyingly handsome. Why, by all rights he should be sallow and pockmarked, the ravages of his black, shriveled heart reflected on his face.
“Not a lady, Thomas. I, ah…I misspoke. Not a lady, but a gentleman in a ridiculously tall hat. Did you see him?”
The man at the front door made some bumbling reply in response.
She couldn’t make it out over the panicked roaring in her ears, but by some miracle of self-preservation, she did hear the pounding footsteps approaching, the dark shadow of a figure growing larger as he drew nearer, until it was positively monstrous.
Oh, what was she to do?
She cast a frantic glance around her, but she’d chosen the wrong alleyway to hide in. There was no way out at the far end, only a brick wall! Her only option was to go out the same way she’d come in, but if she took it…
If she took it, it would put her directly in Armitage Hart’s path. She may as well throw herself directly into his arms!
But there was no other way. He’d certainly find her if she remained here. She could stay and await her fate, or she could run, and pray for a miracle.
It was no choice at all.
She took to her heels like any other thief intent on escaping the gibbet and darted out of her hiding place.
Of course, he saw her at once, and he was after her like a shot.
“Stop! Someone, stop that lady! Er, I mean, stop that man!”
If any of the servants lingering at the door had had the least idea who he was talking about she wouldn’t have had a chance, but she managed to dart down the next alley, and…yes!
Thank goodness, it went through to the other side!
She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, heedless of which direction she took, so long as it was far away from Armitage Hart, but in her panic she somehow ended up at the top of the drive that led to Hart’s Ace.
From the pan right into the fire, dash it!
But it was too late now. There was nothing she could do but keep running and keep praying to a god who seemed to have long since abandoned her.
Down, down, down she went, past the endless line of elegant carriages still waiting in the drive, every one of them crowded with fashionable personages, all of whom witnessed her wild sprint.
Witnesses. There was no chance of an unobtrusive escape now.
That was the least of her worries, however, because instead of giving up the chase as any proper man of business would have done, Armitage Hart was still coming after her like an avenging fury, and she’d chosen the worst possible escape route she could have.
Good God, this was a nightmare.
Oh, if she could only make it out of this scrape in one piece, she’d never tempt fate again!
The winding drive tilted crazily beneath her feet, unrolling into dark infinity. She ran like a wild thing, but every one of Hart’s strides was like two of hers, and he was rapidly gaining on her. Another moment, and he’d be close enough to catch a fold of her cloak.
Once he did it would be over, and her fate sealed.
There was no way she could outrun him, and there was no place to hide. He’d have her in his wicked clutches long before she could reach the end of the drive, and then it would be the magistrate, and a dark cramped cell, a trial, and then, inevitably…the gibbet.
What would become of Percy and Jenny then?
“Stop!” His voice was like a crack of thunder from the sky itself.
He wasn’t even winded! His long legs ate up the drive under his feet. In the next instant he’d have her. Her only recourse would be to throw herself on the mercy of a man who possessed none, and God help her then.
But just as despair threatened to overcome her, she saw it. A way out. It was terribly risky, but not as risky as the vengeance of a man like Armitage Hart.
Quickly, her heart pounding in her ears she dropped to her knees, curled into a tight ball and with a muttered prayer rolled underneath the nearest carriage.
Her hip slammed into one of the rear wheels, and goodness, a wheel had never looked so large as it did when she was trapped underneath a carriage!
Hart shouted something, but it was lost to the roaring in her ears.
Somehow, she made it to the other side of the carriage mostly unscathed.
Hart was still chasing her, but she was on the other side of the row of carriages now, and there was no way a man of Armitage Hart’s size could roll underneath a carriage. He’d have to go around, and by the time he emerged on the other side she’d be gone.
Huzzah!
But this was no time to gloat. She made a mad sprint to the end of the drive and from there to Grand Junction Road but then paused, glancing wildly around her.
Which way? She could keep running north to King’s Road or attempt to lose herself among the few stragglers wandering the promenade on the other side of the Old Steine.
Oh, what should she do? Grand Junction Road was a well-lit straightaway, and he was sure to catch up to her there, despite her lead.
It would be easier to lose herself in the Old Steine, but there weren’t many people around at this late hour, and if she went that way she’d have to circumvent a good portion of southeastern Brighton to reach North Laines from that direction.
Which one? Grand Junction Road, or The Steine?
Behind her, Hart was pounding down the drive. Soon enough he’d reach the last carriage in the line, and once he did, he’d be nearly on top of her, and she was already exhausted.
She had to decide, this very instant. There was no time to lose.
The beach! It was right there, and as dark as Hades. It was her best chance.
She scrambled down the staircase, and the minute her boot touched the sand she was off, the blessed darkness closing in around her, the sand muffling the sound of her frantic footsteps.
Had Hart seen her descend to the beach? If he had this was as good as over.
But if he hadn’t—if fate could see fit to give her just this one advantage—there was a chance she’d escape him.
Please, please, just let her have this one tiny piece of luck!
But alas, fate had no use for thieves, and her plea was destined to go unanswered.
A figure appeared at the top of the staircase, the dark outline of him stark against the midnight blue of the sky. He hesitated for an instant, but the man had the keen eyesight of a predator, because he spotted her at once.
They both sprang into motion.
She flew down the beach much as her parasol had done two days earlier, her footsteps pounding against the sand, but he was already after her, and God above, what a chase it was!