“Men you don’t want to trifle with,” a third called back.
The driver grunted. “You friends of the countess’s husband?”
Both men stopped, their boots falling silent. “Countess’s husband?”
“That’s right. My employer…” The driver’s voice dropped down to a low, conspiratorial tone. “He’s visiting with a certain lady but her husband…”
The other two men laughed. The sort of vulgar chuckles that made her press even closer to Ivinhart. She might have fallen into these men’s very hands if not for him.
He tightened his arm about her back, his hands splayed out in a display of protection that left her breathless and grateful. Silence fell but they stayed where they were for several more seconds before Ivinhart finally eased his hold on her.
But his arm stayed about her as he guided her toward the carriage. He stopped just before the building gave way to the street and peered into the darkness. For Avery’s part, she’d never been more grateful to be in black.
Ivinhart must have decided the men had left because he pulled her out onto the street and then to the carriage.
Snapping open the door, he all but picked her up, pushing her into the vehicle before he climbed in behind her and snapped the door closed.
The driver hadn’t uttered a word. Instead, he snapped the reins, and they were off into the night.
She glanced back, trying to catch a glimpse of Devonhall’s home, the only place she’d remembered ever being happy, but she couldn’t see it through the darkness and the surrounding buildings.
She’d made a choice tonight. The right one, she hoped.
But as the carriage moved away, she realized there was still so much she didn’t know.
Case in point, Avery hadn’t a clue where they were going.
Noah stared across the carriage at the woman he’d just held in his arms.
Why did she affect him so?
They’d been in danger standing in that alley. He should have been fixated on the men who posed the threat, instead all he could think about was how well Avery fit against him, her softness melding to his harder edges.
Each of the men at the club had a nickname. Devonhall, for example, was nicknamed Decadence. The Marquess of Milton went by Menace at the club. It protected their identities in their illegal business, but it also signified something about them as men. Decadence had lived a lavish life of excess before he’d married Isabella. Menace caused trouble wherever he went before he’d met Eliza.
Noah’s nickname was Infamy. Chosen perfectly for his behavior in his adult life. He bounced from one scandalous rendezvous to the next.
His driver had lied to those men. But the lie was derived from a series of actual late night calls Noah habitually made. He was infamous for his debaucherous behavior.
He frowned as he looked at Avery, her delicate profile just visible in the darkness of the carriage. He wasn’t even certain he enjoyed the debauchery. It had become a habit after Lily’s death. But the clandestine meetings filled his time and ensured he made no solid commitment to anyone.
What he didn’t understand now was why holding Avery had caused such a stir in his body. He’d done far more very regularly with a wide array of women. Why would simply holding her make him tighten so?
Was it the danger? The fact that she was innocent? The knowledge that they’d marry?
He’d purposefully chosen a woman he’d never even seen until now so that he would not have to deal with attraction or any other unwanted feelings of commitment.
This was not the plan.
But how did he withdraw now?
She looked at him then, her hands folding in her lap. “May I ask you some more questions?”
His jaw clenched, a muscle ticcing in his cheek. Questions? Now? He could barely sift through his own thoughts. “I suppose.”
She stared at him in the dark for several moments before she finally spoke. “Where are we going?”
He relaxed back into his seat. That was one question he could answer. “I already told you, my country estate.”
She cleared her throat. “Is your country estate in a secret location? Can you give me the county perhaps?”
Despite himself, he smiled. And then a small chuckle passed his lips. She might look vulnerable, but she had an edge. The very kind he liked. “Very secret. I can’t even tell you the country.”
Silence stretched between them and then she laughed. A light and bright sound that tinkled like a bell and tickled his ears. Christ, it tickled other unmentionable places too.
“Did you,” she started between laughs. “Did you just make a joke?”
“I believe I did,” he answered. Then he sat forward again. “If you’ll permit me, I’m going to wait to say more until after we’ve left the city.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath. And then she looked behind her on one side and then the other.
Without warning, she rose from the seat and, unable to fully stand, she hunched over to cross the carriage. She settled next to him, squeezing herself between him and the wall.
The softness of her hip pressed against him. He slid over a bit so that she more comfortably fit on the seat and his arm came across the back of the bench to clasp her narrow shoulder in his hand.
“Are we in danger still?” she whispered, then she looked up at him, her large brown eyes swimming with uncertainty and vulnerability and… He clenched his jaw again, resisting the urge to kiss her.
He was a seasoned rake, for fuck’s sake. How could this woman strip him of so much control? “We can’t be too careful,” he replied. He truly worried that they might be, but she needn’t. He pulled her a touch closer. “But try not to be concerned. Decadence chose me to protect you for a reason.”
Inwardly, he cringed. The real reason Decadence had chosen him was
