Free Guarding a Notorious Lady by Olivia Parker Page B

had grabbed him, but the lanky man surprised him by wresting free enough to slip out a small dagger.

    Nicholas had managed to dodge the blow aimed at his face, but he’d lost his hold. The vermin had scurried away, disappearing down another all ey like a rat slipping into some invisible crack in the foundation.
    That creature could be anywhere, Nicholas thought grimly with a narrow-eyed glare as he scanned the people milling about the streets and surrounding park, his gaze snagging on the unsuspecting women in particular.
    Dangers lurked everywhere.
    Take that situation just over the rise, for instance, he pondered.
    A young, bespectacled, flaxen-haired lass sat on a bench nestled under a tree with a book. Next to her dozed a woman he guessed was her mother, her head slack and resting on the back of the bench.
    Unbeknownst to the sleeping woman, her charge was being watched by a man atop a glossy black stal ion.
    As Nicholas passed, the man never took his eyes off the girl, and she seemed completely oblivious to his half-adoring, half-ravenous gaze.
    A lion nearly salivating at a dainty mouse.
    Just what were this fell ow’s intentions? Nicholas found himself wondering. It looked nefarious to him, but then again, Nicholas was admittedly more suspicious than most.
    Shaking his head, he crossed the crowded street and quickened his steps. Before long the Devines’
    town house came into view. He looked up, noticing a commotion near Rosalind’s front door. Och, were they hosting another party, and in the middle of the day?
    The front door open wide, three men were coming down the steps as two more were trying to get up, their arms laden with blooms of every color and various wee, prettily wrapped packages.

    Nicholas squinted. Was that a horse tethered to the railings, ribbons and small flowers twined through the beast’s mane and tail? What the devil was going on?
    “AAAAAAA-CHOOOO!”
    Nicholas nearly jolted out of his skin as a sneezing man sped past him, holding the largest bouquet of roses he’d ever seen in his life.
    “You there! Sir!” Nicholas shouted. “Hold!” With a sigh, the man came to an abrupt stop and turned around. His eyes were red-rimmed and weeping, his bulbous nose shiny and damp. He looked miserable. “Yes?” he asked, sounding nasal and rather irritated.
    “What is this all about?”
    “Well,” the man started, looking peevish and sounding much like he was explaining something to a dull-wit, “these are flowers and I’m delivering them.”
    “To whom?”
    The man sighed. “To Devine Mansion. Again. And I suppose once I return to the shop other . . . ah . . .” Nicholas took a step back just in time.
    “ . . . ACHOOOOOOOO!!” The man wiped at his nose with his sleeve. “When I return to the shop,” he began again, “I suppose there will be more . . . ah . . .
    ahhh . . .”
    “Here.” With one hand, Nicholas took the tall vase of pink roses from the man. “allow me.” Reaching into the inside pocket of his coat, he grabbed some coin and handed it to the man.
    He looked affronted for a moment, then glanced at the money, and then back at Nicholas. “How do I know you’ll not steal these for yourself?” His question was laced with suspicion. “We have a reputation to uphold
    —”
    Nicholas held up a hand. “You can watch me deliver it from over here. And,” he added with a grin, “you might want to think about another line of work.”

    “I’ll say,” the man agreed, swiping at his sweaty brow.
    “C hrist, Rosie! The front hall looks like a bloody jungle.”
    “Don’t I know,” Rosalind cringed from behind an enormous bundle of bright red tulips before dumping them in a vase brought by a maid. “And poor Briggs,” she continued, speaking of their butler. “I sent him off.
    He couldn’t stop sneezing.”
    “Ah,” Tristan said, shrugging out of his cloak. “That would explain his absence.” He glanced behind him before tossing the garment on the chair to the