Chapter 1 #2
Twice in the same night, Donny found himself on his back. Only this time, anger was not the first sentiment to come over him. Marigold felt a wild satisfaction as Donny looked up at the newcomer with sheer terror.
“You should leave,” the stranger said calmly.
Marigold stood absolutely still upon hearing this voice. It carried the kind of authority that expected obedience and would not take kindly to defiance. Though she was not the target of that unnerving, sharp tone, Marigold’s survival instincts told her that she had better keep silent.
The same instincts came over Donny as he got up, taking a step back from the giant blocking one side of the alley.
Upon studying him, Marigold was sure that Donny would have fled as fast as his feet could carry him if it weren’t for his lackeys.
Out on these streets, where law was hard to find, all Donny had was his reputation.
So, it came as no surprise when Donny laughed nervously and looked at the man, taking one small step towards him.
“And who are you supposed to be?” Donny demanded.
“I said,” the man repeated, suddenly making the air feel icy, “leave.”
Marigold looked between the four men and this stranger, yet if she were a gambling woman, she would bet all her money on that towering presence in the alley. And yet Donny was either too desperate, too drunk, or simply too imprudent because he made a threatening move against the man.
It happened faster than lightning. One moment, Donny raised his hand as he had done to strike her, and the next, he was lying on his back, holding his nose, blood trickling down. All Marigold managed to notice was a sickening cracking sound and then Donny’s painful howl.
That was enough for the men to finally come to their senses and realize they were overpowered by a single man. They grabbed Donny as fast as they could and dragged him out of the alley and into the busy street.
The stranger turned away immediately, as if this whole incident were just an inconvenience, as unremarkable as trying to avoid a puddle of water. He turned his massive back and made his way to the other side of the alley.
“Wait!” Marigold heard herself say before she could even realize what she was doing.
The man had either not heard her or, most likely, pretended not to hear her.
Perhaps the same ailment that prevented Donny from comprehending the dire situation he was in before attacking that man was contagious because Marigold, instead of going her merry way, relieved that she was safe for the moment, took one step and grabbed the giant by his arm.
That stopped him in his tracks and luckily so because Marigold was sure that he could drag her along the cobblestones with no trouble at all.
“Please, sir,” Marigold said, “your name.”
A long silence.
“Your name, sir,” she repeated.
“There is no need for any of that,” that rough voice echoed in the small alley.
“But, sir,” Marigold insisted, “I need to repay you for your kindness.”
The man turned and loomed over her. Her pulse jumped to her throat.
Marigold was considered tall among the women of the ton, but this man made her feel small.
She could not see his face in this dark alley, the only light coming from the lamp post at the other side, but as he turned his face was hidden in the darkness of the shadows.
“Repay me?” he demanded.
“Yes, sir.” Marigold would not allow fear to trample her good manners.
It was rare in her life for someone to actually save her instead of putting her down. Maybe this was the reason why she felt inexplicably indebted to this stranger. In her world, kindness did not exist, and she was determined to—
A dismissive laugh interrupted her thoughts. Marigold frowned upon hearing the man laugh at her.
“I wouldn’t expect you,” he said in a gruff, deep voice, “to be so desperate in selling your body.”
Marigold was manhandled, threatened, and assaulted that night, and yet that simple comment was the greatest shock.
“I…” she stammered. “I was not… offering…”
The man straightened his back, and his full size was daunting. He straightened his overcoat as he spoke again.
“If that was not what you were indeed offering,” he said, and Marigold recognized the refinement in his tone, “I would suggest you take greater care with your propositions next time.”
That was all the man said, leaving her stunned at the edge of the alley that had been the scene of the most dangerous and bizarre experience of her life. As he turned, his face was illuminated by the lamp light, and Marigold managed to take a good look at him.
It seemed that the night was determined to pile every human emotion upon her in the most erratic way because Marigold was stupefied to see that this giant of a man had an elegant profile, a straight, regal nose leading to a pair of fleshy lips, even set as they were.
Thick eyebrows that formed a straight line, tilted upwards at the ends, made him seem commanding and permanently angry.
And under them, his eyes were almond-shaped and dark like still midnight waters.
This man, her reluctant savior, this walking behemoth, was a gentleman of the ton, she was sure of it.
And the most breathtaking man she had ever seen.