Sixteen
Pinpricks of light scattered in the haze of Jonathan’s vision. He stumbled back a step. A body slammed into him, spinning him farther from Evangeline. Nose throbbing, he lunged for her as the crowd shifted direction, surging toward them.
He gripped her arm above the elbow, pulling her close. A man crashed into her. She fell against Jonathan. His arm slipped around her waist as he swung his head, searching for an opening in the tide of bodies sweeping them down the lane.
“This way!” He caught her hand, and they darted for a recessed doorway. Shielding her with his body, he pressed her against the solid door. Voices roared like a storm behind him. He was jostled against her, but he held steadfast as she clung to him, her eyes large.
“I have you,” he said into her ear as she trembled. “I have you, love.”
Men screamed. Hoof beats thundered past.
It seemed like an eternity, but was more likely only a few minutes before the noise and chaos faded. When it was quiet, he glanced over his shoulder, his pulse hammering in his ears. The street was deserted. Clouds of dust lingered in the air.
Evangeline’s cheeks were flushed, and her chest rose and fell with labored breaths. She gripped his jacket, her fists frozen in terror.
“Mama,” she murmured.
She was in shock. He had seen seasoned soldiers call for their mothers in moments of great fear.
“You’re safe now,” he said gently, stroking the back of his hand along her hot cheek. “No one will hurt you.”
A wave of dizziness hit him as he realized it was a lie. She had already lost her parents. If he took her uncle from her, he could destroy her.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t utter a sound.
“Let’s go home,” he whispered. “You will feel better with your sister.”
Slowly, she released his jacket, not protesting when he gathered her hand in his. She had lost her bonnet in the pandemonium, and her fine strawberry-tinted hair fell in tangles around her face. She blinked, looking up at him.
“You’re bleeding.”
He glanced at his linen shirt. Several drops of blood stood out dark against the stark white. “Just a nosebleed. It stopped.”
“Oh! I didn’t mean—” She covered her mouth.
He chuckled and shook his head. “You caught me by surprise is all. You have an impressive swing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Your uncle taught you well. I think he would be pleased that you defended yourself.”
Her smile was tentative, her eyes not quite cleared from the turmoil.
“Did you venture out alone?” he asked.
She gasped. “Leda!”
Before she could bolt back toward the market, he captured her by the shoulders. “Your maid is Athenian. She knows to stay clear of these sorts of things.”
“But she seemed distracted. We became separated at the market.”
He frowned. “She shouldn’t have left you. The political climate is simmering. There is talk of revolution.”
“Her fiancé was in the crowd.”
Damnation! Dom would need to intervene. His household didn’t want to be at odds with the Sultan.
“If you want to leave the villa again, we will arrange for a male escort—either your brother-in-law or me.”
“As long as it isn’t Lord Dominic,” she said.
He smiled, secretly pleased she hadn’t been charmed by his fellow spy.
They walked on in heavy silence. When the villa loomed on the hillside, Evangeline said, “I promised a restorative broth for my sister, but I am returning empty-handed.”
“What ingredients do you need?”
“A mutton bone and peppercorns, if any are to be found.”
“I will send one of Dom’s men back for them.”
She thanked him and touched his arm to stop him on the street.
“Please don’t mention what happened today. M-my sister worries. Ever since our parents…” A shudder passed through her and fresh tears shimmered in her blue eyes. “They were caught up in a riot, too.”
The air rushed from him in a noisy whoosh. The haunted shadows passing across her face made his chest ache. She hadn’t only been going through her own experience. She had been reliving her parents’ last moments—something she likely had never imagined.
He covered her hand on his arm, pressing it, lost for words. Eventually, he inclined his head. “We should enter through the back gate.”
Gathering her hand through the crook of his elbow, he guided her up the hill, turning into the narrow path behind the villa.
“Wait here,” he said and opened the gate. Once he determined the courtyard was empty, he motioned for her to follow, then escorted her to the glass doors leading to her bedchamber. “If you need anything, send for me.” He gestured to the second-floor window in the opposite wing.
She nodded, sniffling once before slipping into her bedchamber.
He took the servants’ staircase to avoid a possible encounter with Evangeline’s sister or brother-in-law.
Hopefully, she would tell her sister what happened, but he would keep his word and not mention it.
He could see grief had hit her differently today, now that she was no longer a child.
Her sister would understand better than anyone and comfort her. Perhaps when she was ready…
After he changed his shirt, he rang for a servant to return to the market for the ingredients Evangeline wanted and asked for a tea tray to be delivered to her room. Retrieving his notebook, he moved to the sitting room to review his notes from earlier that day.
He had sat outside Mrs. Bellini’s boarding house watching for Mrs. Flibberquick, aka the Earl of Wedmore, but none of the ladies entering or leaving the boarding house were close to matching his height.
After observing and making notes, Jonathan had approached the door only to receive the same message. Mrs. Flibberquick hadn’t returned.
Though he thought it unlikely, he had revisited the antiquities shop close to the market to ask after Wedmore, but there were still no sightings or rumors that he was in the area.
Jonathan was beginning to suspect Evangeline’s uncle had met with foul play, which ought to be a relief.
His mission would be complete. He could finally return home.
But something inside him had cracked today looking into her anguished eyes.
If she lost her uncle, she might never be the same—and the world would be bleaker without her light.
A soft knock sounded at the sitting room door. Expecting Dom or one of the servants, he called, “Enter.”
Slowly, the door drifted open. Evangeline stood in the threshold, hugging a worn, red leather book. His eyes flared and his breath caught.
“I-I need your help,” she whispered.