Authors: Gloria Harchar
Ramsey motioned for her to hurry as she yanked frantically at her skirt. Shouts sounded nearby and he ducked.
"
Go on,
"
she whispered, waving him away even as her throat clogged with fear.
Her cousin ran both hands through his hair and looked t
oward the men as they began circling the building
. One separated and moved in their direction.
Nicola
shooed at Ramsey again, then in desperation worked to loosen her dress as her cousin ran into the thi
ck brush. Oh, if only she had worn
breeches
under her dress
so she could le
ap through the window as easily.
Just as she freed herself, the door opened on the far side of the room. Sliding to the floor,
Nicola
ducked behind the nearest worktable. She gathered her skirts close, unmindful of the dirty floor, and hoped the sturdy table provided enough cover.
Drat Ramsey for g
etting her into this situation—
though the instant the thought formed, she admonished herself. Her cousin was o
nly doing what he thought best
and
,
in rescuing him, she was only doing what she thought best.
Light flooded the stockingers
'
workroom, bright fingers groping for her
condemning
presence at the scene of the crime. A dark figure of a man held a lantern, which he set on a table.
She could squirm herself out of the most compromising situations. Ramsey had always commended her for her glib tongue.
Palms slick, she wiped them on her dress,
and vowed to make him repay her for this little episode.
She groped for a reasonable explanation for her presence in this factory in the middle of the night.
I was riding by and thought I heard an intruder
.
No one would believe that she
'
d sought an intruder on her own.
I wondered how a workroom would look, and when I peeked through the window, I fell inside?
Anyone who accepted such an excuse would have to be as chuckle-headed as anyone who offered it.
From where she crouched in the comer, she peered into the halo of bright light at the large silhouette of the man. Although she couldn
'
t see his features, his height and broad shoulders belonged to someone imposing. The dimly lit wall sconces barely touched him, but silver light from the moon shone through a window and she suddenly knew him.
The Black Falcon.
The silvery rays suited him, caused him to look mysterious and dangerous. The caped greatcoat he wore flared as he pivoted. Snug breeches hugged the powerful lines of his muscled legs. Light limned his cheekbones, and briefly caught in the reflection of his
eyes
as he searched the room. Pure masculine
strength poured from him and
he seemed to command the rate of
Nicola
'
s heartbeat, the tingling sensations upon her skin, her very breath.
When she realized she still held the axe, a sliver of dread pierced her. Why hadn
'
t she pitched the thing out the window? Now it burned a brand in her palm while the marred loom seemed to cry out like an injured lamb.
Falcon walked to the middle of the room, bringing him closer to the damaged property. His broad shoulders tapered into a narrow waist.
All right, she admitted the man
was impressive.
Nicola
had the distinct image of a huge bird of prey about to swoop down on her. The light refused to reveal his features, even though she squinted hard.
His
hand rested on his hip
in an almost insolent stance. From rumors she knew he was clever, perhaps too clever for her machinations. He turned slowly toward her. In fascinated horror, she watched. Strange how at ease he was, as if he were accustomed to prowling the night. His gaze seemed to peel back the inky la
ye
rs that cloaked her.
"
Do something,
"
she whispered to the Callers.
"
You
'
re on your own,
"
Allegro responded.
Falcon
'
s steps echoed loudly as he approached the table behind which she crouched:
slow, measured steps, as if he were taking a leisurely stroll rather than confronting an intruder. As he neared, his Roman nose and high cheekbones were illuminated, but his mood was difficult to read. Was he angry? Quite likely. Dangerous? Assuredly.
Nicola
shrank into a tighter huddle, barely able to breathe. Per
haps
he wouldn
'
t see her in the shadows. His brows, as dark as the thick black hair that fell onto his forehead, swept downward. With no more than that, he tripled her heart rate and made her feel as if she were a small field mouse about to be snatched by a ravenous hawk.
"
To whom are you talking?
"
His voice was cool, level and
destroyed
her last hope of going undiscovered. In an attempt to salvage some remnant of dignity, she rose from her crouching position, careful to hide the axe in the folds of her skirts.
"
No one, my lord.
"
With a scowl, he glanced behind her.
"
Truly,
'
tis only myself here.
"
She fussed with smoothing her skirts, hoping Allegro would change his mind and intervene on her behalf.
She didn't trust Glissando to do anything except actions that benefitted him.
"
I-I suppose my presence at your place of business at this hour seems a bit strange.
"
Her reticule jerked against the axe and she quickly shifted the items behind her back, praying the earl hadn
'
t seen.
"
Just a bit. I
'
m almost afraid to discover your intentions, after viewing your behavior at Glasshouse Street.
"
She remembered the street brawl and grimaced.
"
You were there?
"
"
I had the dubious honor of witnessing your hoydenish manners.
"
Hoydenish? He thought her hoydenish? It wasn
'
t her fault things had gotten out of hand. And as for her manners, they were perfect
ly adequate for all—well, most—
situations. Lifting her chin, she looked straight into his dark
eyes
.
"
If you must know, we were merely distributing handbills, informing the public about the stockingers
'
plight. That hosier was going to throw a punch at Ramsey. He was much larger. I couldn
'
t merely stand by and watch.
"
"
Just as you couldn
'
t stand by and watch your cousin destroy my newest loom.
"
Quick as a hunting bird, he plucked the axe from her
hand
.
Horror scorched her throat. She wished, oh, how she wished she had thrown the
incriminatory
implement out the window. She gulped and rallied.
"
What made you come? Do you make a habit of patrolling your property?
"
"
I suppose I should, now that I comprehend your family
'
s insane propensity toward destruction.
"
"
Excuse me, but we are merely passionate in our beliefs, not hooligans as you assume.
"
Frowning, she persisted in trying to change the subject.
"
Truly, what brought you here tonight?
"
"
A very reliable source warned me that your hotheaded
cousin
was coming. However, I didn
'
t expect to find you.
"
His gaze swept her.
"
I
'
m quite shocked, Miss
Moore
, at your scandalous behavior—not to mention your cousin
'
s criminal tendencies, which will lead him straight to
a ship's
galleys
filled with other prisoners, headed for New South Wales
.
"
Nicola
wasn
'
t about to allow Ramsey to be hauled halfway across the world.
"
Now, now, let's not be hasty. It is
I
who
tend to be rather rash, I
'
m afraid.
"
"
I won't argue with you there
.
"
The disapproval in his tone caused her to stiffen.
"
I
hope to appeal to the goodness in your heart.
"
"
You assume much if you think there is any.
"
She glanced at him and her stomach clenched. Although his expression was calm, his
eyes
gleamed with an intense coldness that was hard to miss.
"
Miracles do happen. Why, I heard just the other day that Widow Wilkinson grew new hair on her head after being bald for fifteen
ye
ars.
"
"
It
'
s not my physical attributes that should worry you.
"
"
No?
You are quite large and intimidating.
"