Page 24 of To Dare the Devil

Oh, lord.

“Where’s Frank and Jo?” Mr Rogers grumbled, scratching the back of his neck and putting his cap back on. “They ought to be unloading these by now.”

The belligerent driver folded his arms. “I dunno. Ain’t seen them, but if they ain’t ’ere, I’m taking my bricks back.”

Mr Rogers glared at him. “Don’t be daft, man. Why do that? I’ll have a couple of the other men come and unload, though I’ll be docking wages for this, I can tell you.”

The driver did not look at all happy about this suggestion.

“Are Frank and Jo usually unreliable?” Kathy asked Mr Rogers.

The man made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat but did not deign to answer further.

“I’ll unload ’em,” Vane said, setting to and chucking the bricks about him in such a bizarre manner that Kathy had to bite her lip to stop from laughing.

“Oi! Leave off. Put them back!” the driver yelled, rolling up his sleeves and stalking towards Vane, looking murderous.

“Oh, I say. There’s not so many as it seems,” Vane said, gesturing to the thin planks he’d exposed on top of the next layer. At once, Kathy understood what had happened. Somewhere between the yard and the site, the bricks in the centre of the cart were unloaded, the void covered with planks and more bricks stacked on top to hide what was missing. Which meant the drivers of the carts with missing bricks knew, as well as Frank and Jo, who would have unloaded them. She suspected they were running from the site as they spoke, which was frustrating.

“What the—” Mr Rogers moved to take another look before turning on the driver. “Why, you thieving—”

He didn’t manage the rest of the sentence as the driver hit him, sending him sprawling in the mud on his backside. Vane lunged, far quicker than Kathy would have credited, taking to his heels as the driver made a run for it. Turning, she saw the driver of the second cart had already made good his escape and was halfway across the field.

“Well, don’t just stand there!” she yelled at the workmen who had stopped to watch the kerfuffle. “Get after him!”

To their credit, they did just that, running hell for leather across the field. Kathy turned back to Vane, expecting to see that he’d given up the chase and instead saw him tackle the driver to the ground. She gasped as the two men began fighting in earnest and smothered a shriek of alarm as Vane’s head snapped back with the force of a right hook that looked hard enough to break his neck. Vane must have been a deal tougher than his pretty face suggested, though, as he retaliated with enthusiasm. The two men wrestled together in the mud, Vane’s elegant clothes quickly ruined beyond repair, though his clothes were the least of his worries when his opponent drove his fist into his belly. Vane turned a ghastly shade of white and, with a furious growl, kneed the fellow in his tender parts. The driver let out an ear-splitting shriek that must have been heard on the other side of the city. Glassy eyed with pain, the fellow put his hands about Vane’s neck and squeezed.

“Oh!” Kathy exclaimed, truly concerned that the fool would get himself killed. She stared about for a weapon that might help, and her gaze landed on the planks atop the missing bricks. Snatching up the only one they’d yet uncovered, she discovered it was surprisingly heavy. Staggering slightly, she swung the plank with as much force as she could manage and winced as it connected with the driver’s head. There was an unpleasant thwack, and the fellow dropped like a stone. Vane pushed the dead weight off him with a groan at the same time Kathy dropped the plank with a shriek of disgust. Sadly, it landed on Vane… somewhere unprotected.

“Christ!” he yelped, clutching his privates as his eyes watered. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m so sorry!” she said, mortified. “I was trying to help.”

Vane groaned and closed his eyes. She suspected he was counting. When he finally opened them again, he let out an uneven breath of laughter.

“You did,” he said, managing a pained grin. “He was trying to choke the life out of me.”

“Oh, look at the state of you!” Kathy cried, furious with him now that the danger had passed. She hurried to offer him her hands, pulling him to his feet. “Good heavens. This is your idea of subtlety, is it? Well, I should be fascinated to know what a cruder approach would look like. You might have been murdered before my eyes! And poor Mr Rogers has a nosebleed, and… and you’re all m-muddy and you’ve ripped your c-coat!”

Kathy snapped her mouth shut, aware she was babbling, but she only now realised how very frightened she’d been. To her horror, her throat grew tight, and she felt horribly close to tears.

Vane’s expression softened, and he did not allow her to snatch her hands free, holding onto them tightly. “I’m all right, Miss de Beauvoir. No harm done. Just a few bruises, and I’ve a thick head, as I’m sure you know by now.”

“You might have been killed!” The words burst from her without her approval, but it was too late now. Unbidden, the image of him dying in a dingy room came back to her, and she knew she wouldn’t change anything. He’d not been the man she’d dreamed he was, but she was glad, glad he had lived and was here before her, flawed and wicked as he was. She was trembling and tears burned in her eyes. Vane let go of one hand, reaching instead to touch her cheek. Somewhere along the way, he’d lost his gloves and his hand was badly bruised, but his touch was careful.

“The devil won’t have me,” he whispered softly. “But I’m grateful for your concern all the same.”

A tear slid down her cheek and Kathy swiped it away with irritation.

He regarded her for a long moment, his blue eyes filled with something that looked like regret before he dropped his hand.

“Well, it looks like you have your culprits and I doubt we’ll see Frank and Jo within five miles of here any time soon.” He gestured across the field to where the workmen were marching the second driver back towards them. “I suspect Mr Rogers can deal with this now. You’ve done what you needed to do. I really ought never to have involved you at all, but you were marvellous all the same. Thank you.”

Kathy held her tongue lest she say anything else she ought not. She was feeling wholly befuddled, and she held Vane entirely accountable. Terror at seeing him in danger warred with impatience that this ridiculous scene had erupted at all and with the dawning realisation that she would have been devastated if anything had happened to him. The truth was, she cared. She cared far too much about this imperfect, infuriating man. Damn Lord blasted Vane, for the truth was upsetting and maddening, and she needed to keep her distance, because being close to this man posed a greater danger to her than she could ever have realised. She knew what manner of man he was, knew the kind of life he’d led, and yet… and yet she was a fool because her heart simply did not care about his past, only for him.

“Allow me to escort you home, Miss de Beauvoir,” Vane said, speaking to her gently, as though soothing some skittish horse, but there was no way on earth she was getting back into that carriage with him, maid or no maid.

“No, thank you,” she said, relieved that her voice had stopped trembling, and she sounded cool and composed. “My home is a short walk from here. Don’t trouble yourself.”