Chapter Eighteen
By the time Quinn escorted Allison out of his home and locked the door behind him, his passion had cooled considerably. He couldn’t believe he’d been so close, literally a hair’s breadth, to making her his own, despite all his hesitation, only to have her put the brakes on the whole thing at the moment of truth.
He didn’t blame her. In fact, he applauded her for her unexpected return to her senses. He just didn’t think he’d ever get the feel, scent, and taste of her out of his mind. He’d been at the Pearly Gates, only to have them slam shut in front of him.
It was past midnight, so it took quite a while for him to be able to hail a hack. By the time he handed Allison up into it and settled beside her, she was shivering like a leaf. They hadn’t really spoken since they’d left his bed, but he put his arm around her and pulled her close.
“I should have brought a lap blanket,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ll freeze to death.”
She snuggled a little closer to him, tucking her face against his chest. “I’ll be fine.”
Her voice sounded hollow, and he closed his eyes and hugged her tightly, both to give her warmth, and hopefully, comfort. “You made the right decision,” he told her softly. “And I’ll always cherish the time we’ve spent together.”
“As will I.” Her voice was muffled against the fabric of his coat, but he understood, and her words gave him comfort as well. He didn’t think he could bear it if there were hard feelings between them. He knew he couldn’t see her again, except for if their paths crossed at Mercy House, but he’d never forget the two evenings he’d held this beautiful lady in his arms.
He was so wrapped up in enjoying the last few moments of having her beside him, he didn’t realize they’d already reached Mayfair until the hack suddenly came to a halt. He opened his eyes, only to find to his horror that they’d been caught in a traffic jam in the street outside one of the fabulous mansions, the one belonging to the Earl of Sherbourne, if he wasn’t mistaken, Some sort of soiree must have just come to an end, and people were thronging out of the house to board their expensive coaches, which lined both sides of the street.
He wanted to wring the neck of the hack driver for not having seen what was going on in time to avoid it, but now they were well and truly stuck, completely exposed in an open hack. In a matter of moments, someone was going to recognize Allison, and she would be ruined.
“Allison,” he breathed, realizing she’d fallen asleep against him. “Allison, wake up.”
She startled and blinked up at him. “Quinn,” she murmured sleepily. “What’s wrong?”
“You must hide your face. Someone is going to recognize you,” he told her urgently.
Still half-asleep, she sat forward instead, blinking owlishly as she tried to figure out what was going on. As she did so, a group of stylishly dressed people passed right by Allison’s side of the hack, among them Allison’s older brother Adrian Strathmore and his wife Vanessa.
Quinn caught his breath, knowing it was too late.
Adrian came to an abrupt halt, the stream of revelers parting around him. “Allison?” His eyes narrowed as he saw Quinn beside her. “Inspector? What is going on here? Has something happened?”
Quinn scrambled to come up with some sort of plausible lie, perhaps something about how there’d been another problem at Mercy House—although nothing could really explain away why she was in his arms in a hired hack after midnight without a chaperone.
Unfortunately, Allison gave a squeak of alarm, drawing even more attention to them. She looked more than guilty. She looked as though she’d been caught doing exactly what they’d been doing earlier in the evening.
With a low growl of anger, Strathmore grabbed Allison’s hand and yanked her down from the hack, his burning blue eyes drilling holes in Quinn. The burn scar on his cheek stood out more than usual as he visibly struggled to control his fury.
“I will expect you to present yourself at Hawkesmere’s house first thing in the morning, O’Brien,” he said stiffly. “We’ll discuss this matter then.”
Quinn merely nodded mutely, knowing there was no way he could convince Allison’s brother that this was anything other than exactly what it looked like.
She met his gaze, her face filled with horror, and his heart fell even further. The last thing he’d wanted was her to be forced into something she’d repeatedly said she didn’t want, but he was very afraid that Hawkesmere was going to insist that he marry her.
* * *
ALLISON DUG IN HER feet as her brother Adrian dragged her toward his carriage. The Mayfair street was flooded with light and people, and she still wasn’t quite certain what had happened. One minute she’d been sleeping peacefully in Quinn’s arms. The next, Adrian had pulled her out of the hack.
She could only surmise that they’d somehow been caught in the chaos of a party ending, and Adrian had seen her with Quinn.
“What were you thinking?” Adrian growled as he handed her up into his carriage. “Out past midnight, unchaperoned? Snuggled up next to a police inspector in a hired hack?”
Adrian’s wife, Vanessa, a gorgeous brunette with flashing green eyes, already waited in the carriage and must have heard him, for she pulled Allison down on the forward-facing seat beside her and glared at her husband. “Don’t you dare say police inspector in that tone of voice. Not you, who married an actress and supported your brothers when they married an upstairs maid and the house mother of an orphanage.”
Allison couldn’t help but smile at her sister-in-law’s snappy response, even though the situation seemed dire indeed.
Adrian sighed and shook his head at the two of them. “Half of the ton saw you with that man. I hope you care about him, Allison, because now you’ll have to marry him.”
The world spun around Allison as her brother’s words crashed down around her. “But I don’t want to get married,” she managed.