FORTY
I tug a coin from my pocket as quietly as I can. Then I flip it down on the far side of the bed. I want Findlay to dive toward the movement. To react and move without thinking.
He doesn’t.
The slide of another step. I wedge as far as I can get into the corner between the wall and the wardrobe. Then I remember my skirts. I’m not wearing a body-hugging cocktail dress. I’ve got long skirts over layers of underskirts, and they do not “wedge” into that corner with me. I consider pulling them in, but that will cause both noise and movement.
Forget the skirts. Hold my breath. Lift the baton. Be ready.
The edge of a figure appears. Findlay’s dark-clad, dark-haired figure. He’s moving toward the bed. Then I catch the faintest shift my way, his face turning, checking behind the wardrobe before he focuses on the bed.
I lunge and swing. At the last second, he spins. The club hits him in the shoulder instead of the skull. It should still hit hard enough for him to reel. I feel the solid thwack of it. Yet he barely staggers, and before I can pull back for another blow, he’s grabbing at me.
I swing the club. I kick. I even let go of the damn baton with one hand and punch. It shouldn’t be that hard. I’ve fought the imposter before, and he only stood a chance when he had a rope tightening around my neck.
The guy I faced before was a half-assed fighter, all awkward blows and jabs, like someone who’s never fended off more than a schoolyard bully.This is different. This guy grabs the club and ducks my blows and ignores my kicks, and with the damned dress on, I can’t do more, and before I know it, I’m up against the wall with a hand over my mouth.
He has one hand on my club and the other over my mouth, but he’s not otherwise restraining me. I release the club and pull back for a punch… and see him clearly, out of the shadows.
Light brown skin. Dark eyes. And a face at least three inches above where I expect Findlay’s to be.
“Duncan?” I say, my voice muffled by his hand. He doesn’t seem to notice—or can’t hear—the familiarity of the address. He just motions for me to be quiet, brows lifting as if waiting for me to agree.
I nod, and he lowers his hand and steps back.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper.
“Following—” He shakes off the rest and glances toward the hall. “Constable Findlay will be back soon. That’s what I came inside to warn. The public houses have closed, and he will be on his way back.”
My mouth opens, ten questions leaping into the gap, but I close it and nod. “He’s not at a public house, but yes, I was just about to leave. Is—Mrs. Ballantyne is out front.”
His brows gather, face darkening. “You brought mysister?”
“Uh, no. Didn’t you follow her?”
“Certainly not. I followed you. You were obviously in a hurry to leave earlier this evening, and I presumed you were about to follow another clue. Which is why I had that talk with you—vowing to do better, so that you wouldn’t feel the need to do such things on your own. But obviously…”
He pulls back, and in that movement, I see his hurt.
Damn it, Duncan. I’m sorry. I really am.
“I’m sorry—”
“No need,” he says, too quickly to mean it. “You did not trust me yet. I have not earned it.” He starts for the hall. “We must get to my sister. She is too reckless by far.”
“Not reckless,” I say as I hurry after him. “Just restricted. Restricted and restrained and sheltered, and so when she gets an adventure, she isn’t prepared to deal with it.”
He turns to peer at me, and I realize I’m using my Mallory voice. I wave at the hall. “We’ll speak later, sir. I have—I have things I need to tell you, but for now we must get to Is—Mrs. Ballantyne.”
We walk two steps. Then I stop so abruptly he bashes into me.
I turn. “There are notes. I can grab them quickly. I just need you to watch me, so you may tell Detective McCreadie that they are where I said they were.”
“As I found you here, I am not certain how that proves anything. You may have planted them.”
I curse under my breath. Then I stride forward. “Forget the notes. We’ll discuss them once we have your sister.”
“Are you all right, Catriona? You sound odd.”