Free 0062412949 (R) by Charis Michaels

whatever it may be?”
    “She had a girl with her.”
    “Her African maid,” Trevor guessed.
    “No, she had the woman from across the street. And another girl. Blonde-haired. Blue eyes. They had so many things to carry.”
    Trevor pivoted, took half a step, and spun back. “So, she waited until I left the house unprotected and then appealed to you?” It took effort to keep his voice low. “Armed with the neighbor’s nursemaid and an overburdened blonde girl?” He shook his head. “Oh, Joseph, you did not !”
    Out in the street, two passing gentlemen peered into the alley. Trevor grabbed the boy by the elbow and tugged him out of earshot.
    “She said she deserved to be let in,” Joseph explained. “She went on and on. She is like a lightning storm, my lord. Honest to God, I could not stop her.”
    “But of course you could stop her.” Trevor hissed out a long breath. “She is not a storm—although I appreciate your poetry—she’s a girl, as I’ve already said, and she barely weighs nine stone.” He released the boy and dropped his head back, speaking to the sky. “I cannot believe you admitted her, Joseph, I cannot.”
    “I knew you would be cross, but I came anyway.”
    “How brave you are. No fear of me but powerless in the face of Miss Piety Grey.” He hovered for a second, weighing his options. And then, without another word to the boy, he made for the horses.
    The ride home took ten minutes—ample time to determine what he would say. Get out, sprang repeatedly to mind, but no, that would never be sufficient.
    “She only wished to stay the afternoon,” Joseph said when they cleared Cavendish Square and cantered into Henrietta Place. “She said she would not make the slightest bother. She only wishes to be released in the evening, when the house is quiet.”
    “What the devil does that mean?” Trevor left his horse bridled in the mews and stormed inside.
    “When you’re away?” ventured Joseph.
    “Precisely. When I am away . I don’t care how quiet the house is when she comes and goes, Joseph; she’s asked you to deceive me!” He charged up the stairs.
    “I’m sorry, Trev.” The boy managed to choke the words out, ducking his head. He had the foresight to look completely defeated, and Trevor groaned. Of course it was not the boy’s fault. The woman was impossible. Aggressive. Unrelenting. And far too beautiful for her own good.
    When they reached the music room, the doorknob to the illustrious shared door was rattling.
    Trevor glowered at Joseph.
    They heard a shuffling. Footsteps. The feminine sound of someone clearing her throat.
    Then it came: three firm knocks.
    Trevor nodded, pointing at the boy. “Of course. I’ve come here to evict her, yet she demands an audience with me?”
    “Lord Falcondale?” Piety’s muffled voice came from beyond the door. “I can hear you shouting, so I know you are there. If you please, would you mind opening the door?”
    Trevor stared at the knob. “I want you out, Miss Grey!” He frowned at the door.
    “I cannot get out if you do not open the door.”
    “You would not be in if you had not bullied your way past my man the very moment I left the house unguarded.”
    “There was no bullying,” she corrected. “If you will only let me pass, I can explain.”
    Trevor swore under his breath and scowled at Joseph. He strode to the door.
    “Lord Falcondale?” she called, relentlessly cheerful.
    “A lightning storm, my lord,” whispered Joseph behind him.
    Trevor growled, whipping off his hat and coat and chucking them in his direction. “Get out, Joseph.”
    “Should I bring refreshment?” the boy offered.
    “ Get out! ” Trevor repeated the order, and then sighing heavily, he reached out and flipped the lock. The door swung.
    “Ah!” she said, popping through from the other side. “There we are. That’s better.”
    Her hair, Trevor was irritated to see, was down. No pins. No band. No hat. Silky light-brown waves framed her face.