Page 16 of His Improper Lady

The other man gave up his attempt at dignity and whirled around to hurry from the office. Tom stood for a moment, fists knotted, then grabbed his jacket and shot out the door.

He didn’t need Falk. There was another person who knew the answer to his question.

DESIREE HAD FINISHED her breakfast—the household always had a late-morning meal, given their late-night schedules—and was climbing the stairs to her room when there was a thunderous pounding at the front door.

Behind her, Templeton opened the door. “Sir! What do you—”

“Where is she? I want to see her.”

Desiree stopped. She knew that voice. Her pulse began to race, and she turned to look down at the entry.

Tom Quick had pushed his way past the butler, swinging the door shut behind him. Desiree gripped the banister and leaned down to see him better. Was he really as intriguing as he’d appeared last night? She decided he looked even better in the daylight. His blue eyes were bright, his hair attractively tousled.

Why was he here? A treacherous hope leaped in her chest, even though she knew it was untrue.

“Really, sir!” The butler huffed, clearly putting on his most imperious air. “I have no idea who you are or what you’re talking about, but you cannot simply—”

“Desiree!” Quick snapped. “Get Desiree. Now.”

No. He was definitely not here to make amends. Desiree started back down the stairs. “I’m here. I don’t know what you think you’re about, but there’s no need to bully Templeton.”

“Miss Malone, I’m so sorry.” Templeton turned to her, his face flushed. “I don’t know who this man is, but there’s no need for you to worry. I’ll send him on his way.”

Tom snorted. “You think you’re going to toss me out?”

Templeton turned almost purple, and Desiree hurried forward. “It’s all right, Templeton. I know this very rude man. I’ll talk to him.”

“Miss, I don’t think it’s safe to be alone with him.”

“It’s fine,” she assured the older man, alarmed that he might actually try to restrain Quick and get himself hurt. “I can handle it, I assure you.”

The butler stepped back, looking uneasy, and Tom walked past him, his attention focused on Desiree. “You belong to Falk!”

Desiree’s brows shot up, her own temper rising. “I don’t belong to Falk or anyone else. If you’ll lower your tone and act like a civilized person, we can go into the parlor to speak. Templeton, some tea, perhaps?”

“I don’t want any bloody tea,” Tom barked, but he turned toward the door she indicated and strode before her into the parlor.

Desiree nodded reassuringly at the butler and followed him. She was certain Quick, for all his anger, wasn’t about to get violent with her.

Tom swung toward her, his eyes still flashing with fury. “I just talked to Falk. He wanted me to do the job since you’d failed at it.”

She quirked a brow, a little stung by his description of her break-in. “I haven’t ‘failed’ at anything. That was merely a first effort.”

“There won’t be another one.” He strode forward, looming over her. “I’m not letting you or Falk or anyone else steal anything from the Morelands.”

Desiree crossed her arms and gazed back at him coolly. “And you think you’re going to stop me? You haven’t exactly done a good job of that so far.”

“You try it again, and this time I’ll put you in jail. I know who you are, Miss Malone.” He said her name as if it were an insult. “I know where you live. I’ll have the peelers here in five minutes. How do you think all those toffs that come to Farrington Club are going to feel about losing their money to a known thief?”

“Your threats don’t frighten me.”

“Falk is scum. How the devil can you work for him?” Quick asked, his voice calmer now. He sounded almost disappointed.

“I agree, he is. And I don’t work for him. I haven’t for fourteen years.”

Quick’s face changed subtly. “You were one of his ‘kids,’ too?”

“Too? You worked for Falk, as well?” Desiree looked at him doubtfully. “I don’t remember you.”