“Yes,” Miss McLaren whispered. “She asked me not to say anything to you.”

Fifteen

The train’s whistle cut through the commotion of the crowd, a huge billow of steam erupting from the smokestack. Garrett shoved his way through the milling passengers, his eyes raking the platform for her.

Don’t let it be too late. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but desperation churned through him. Perry was leaving him. He’d known it the instant the words left Miss McLaren’s lips. That had been two hours ago and he’d been practically running through the streets ever since, trying to track her.

Struggling through a knot of workmen, he staggered to a halt on the middle of the platform. The train bunched its iron muscles, throbbing with imminent tension. A young lad leaped aboard, the conductor grabbing his arm and steadying him. A pair of young ladies in dark bonnets stepped back, dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs as they waved him off.

Where was she? He could see dozens of young women, but none of them was Perry. Pushing past a workman, he strained to see along the platform. Nothing.

Pulling out the locating device, Garrett cursed under his breath. Its faint metallic clicks meant she was close. He could track her to her proximity—she was here, somewhere—but the device was no more specific than that.

If I lose her…

His vision grayed at the thought, violence playing through him. Perry was the only thing holding him together right now.

Movement flickered through his vision. Dark feathers bobbed over a stylish hat as a young woman glanced through the window on the train, then back at her lap. Garrett’s breath caught. Perry. He’d been looking for a young lady in men’s clothes, but she wore the black wig from the opera, her burgundy velvet coat buttoned tightly beneath her chin. A young woman toying with her gloves in her own compartment, nonchalantly waiting for the train to depart.

It cut at him inside that she could look so uncaring. Did she even give him a thought? She hadn’t even bloody said good-bye.

The whistle screamed and smoke poured from the smokestack of the train. It let out a mighty hiss, then the wheels started turning. In her compartment, Perry looked up, her shoulders slumping in relief.

“Stand clear!” the conductor bellowed.

Garrett was moving before he thought about it. The train lurched forward, the conductor swinging the door shut. As the train started to move, Perry’s carriage came face-to-face with him.

Look at me, damn you.

Slowly her shoulders stiffened and she looked up. There was no hint of recognition at first, only that deadened gaze meeting his. Then her eyes widened, expression painting itself across the muted planes of her face and enlivening it. Garrett nodded at her and stopped walking, falling back into the curious crowd. Perry slammed herself against the window, palm splayed over the glass as she stared after him, her lips parting.

Carriages rocked past. Garrett started running, shoving people out of his way as the train sped up, carriages rattling past him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the last carriage drawing up close to his shoulder. One last chance…

He took it, leaping out over the tracks, his hands catching the lip of the carriage roof. A gasp went up behind him, but he ignored it, swinging his leg up onto the top and crouching there for a moment to catch his breath.

Now you’re mine.

***

Perry’s heart leaped into her throat as she threw herself against the window, straining to see where he’d vanished to. How had he found her? What was he doing? Was he letting her go?

Slowly she sank down into her seat, the skin of her cheek still imprinted with the coolness of the glass. The image of his face flashed through her mind, tight with a fierceness that almost made her tremble.

He’d never let her go. Not like this. She knew him too well. This was not good-bye.

Perry leaped to her feet, reaching up to tug her satchel from the overhead compartment. It caught and she tugged it free with a hard wrench. The satchel spilled open, the few garments she’d managed to pack tumbling into her face and then falling in a half circle at her feet.

“Blast it,” she swore, kneeling to stuff it all back into her satchel. Her heart hammered in her chest, tempting her to flee.

Perry buckled it shut and spun toward the door. She had to move. She could almost feel him on the train now, prowling toward her. Flicking open the latch on the compartment door, Perry was reaching for the handle when a man dressed entirely in black stepped into view through the window.

Too late.

Their eyes met through the glass and Perry was too slow to move. Garrett yanked the door open, a blast of noise racketing through the private compartment, and stepped inside.

His hard eyes raked over her, lingering on the suitcase. Something dark shifted through his expression, and then he turned and eased the door shut with a soft, controlled click. Sound choked off.

“How did you find me?” Was that her voice? So tight and dry?

“The more interesting question is where, precisely, are you going?”

Light suddenly streamed through the windows as the train left the station. The carriage rocked as it began to move faster, forcing her to brace her feet. Garrett moved with the sway of the carriage, yanking the curtain down over the door so that no one could see in. One glance at her face and she knew that he realized she had no intention of saying anything.

“It wasn’t difficult,” he said curtly, responding to her question when she didn’t answer his. She flinched at his tone. “If you were leaving the city, which was the only possibility, it was either by train or ship.”

Which didn’t explain how he’d tracked her. She’d spent hours backtracking across the city. There was no way he could have followed that trail and found her so quickly.

Unless he had help.

Fitz. That damned tracking beacon they’d been using in certain cases. She started patting herself down, trying to find where the small device must have been sewn into her clothes. “Where did you put it?”

Garrett said nothing. Simply stared at her. And Perry realized that he’d never have expected her to wear a dress. She yanked her skirts up, looking at the heeled boots she always wore. The only flaw to her disguise, but at least she could run and fight in them, and that had been far more important to her mind. “Damn you, is it in one of my boots?”

He wasn’t watching her. He was staring at her boots… No, at her legs and the elegant silk stockings she wore. Perry sucked in a breath and stepped back, dropping her skirts. The intensity in his expression frightened her. It was something she’d longed for, for so many years. Something she’d dreamed about. Something she’d seen on his face that night at the opera and again last night.

Something that terrified her.

He looked up. “You didn’t say good-bye.” Soft, dangerous words.

“I…I tried.”

Last night. She saw the knowledge dawning in his eyes. His lip curled back, his teeth bared. The veneer of civility slid off him as if it had never been. He was feral. Furious. And so bloody gorgeous it hurt her heart to look at him.

“You tried?” He gave a breathless laugh, visibly reining himself in. “You tried to say good-bye? Do I believe that? Let’s be honest, Perry.” His voice hardened. “You were goin’ to give yourself to me but you were never goin’ to say anythin’.” He took a step toward, his face flushed with anger and his words coming out hard and clipped, mangling the fine pronunciation. “You never let me in. You keep me here.” Taking her hand he pressed it against his chest, her arm straight. “All the damned time. And I’m tired of it.”

He wasn’t wearing his body armor. There was no barrier between her hand and the racing thump of his heart, except for thin cloth. Perry jerked her hand back against her chest, but she could still feel the echo of his pulse against her skin.

“I was trying to… I didn’t want—”

“What?” He took up most of the carriage, his anger filling the air.

“It’s not the same for me as it is for you,” she snapped. “I didn’t want to be hurt—”

“What the hell d’you mean? When I what? Walked away? Is that what you think I planned to do?” The look on his face… She had the sudden choking feeling that she had made a grave error. Garrett’s lips thinned and he swore under his breath as he realized how badly he was speaking. “Do you think”—he enunciated each word carefully—“for one moment that I would ever do that to you?”

And suddenly it all welled up inside her, spilling over her lips before she could control it. “You never looked at me! And I was to suddenly believe that things had changed? You like games, Garrett. You like the chase. I’ve seen it a dozen times before. Why would I be any different? Why would—”

“Because I care for you, damn it!”

Both of them fell silent, staring at each other with chests heaving. Half the train had probably heard them.

“Have you ever thought that perhaps you never let me see you?” His voice lowered. “You’re right. You were my friend, but nothing else. You never gave me one hint that you were…that there was anything between us. And you were so frightened when you arrived at the guild that I didn’t see you as a woman. I won’t apologize for that. You didn’t want me to.”

She shook her head. But a little part of her couldn’t deny it. It had been far easier to love him from a distance, knowing that nothing would ever come of it. But now that things were growing complicated…

Another step. He reached out slowly, both hands cupping her trembling jaw. “Where were you going?”

Perry tore away and paced toward the windows, her skirts swishing. Trying to still the racing beat of her heart. Easier to think of this, rather than all of the unspoken feelings she could never give voice to. It calmed her somewhat. “I can’t tell you.”

Nothing.

“Do you know how much that bloody hurts? Damn it, Perry. Where were you going? Were you leaving the city forever? Were you coming back? What are you running from?” His voice thickened. “Was it me?”

“I just… I needed to…” The words died in her throat. If Garrett knew what had happened to her, she had no doubt that he’d confront the duke about it. She’d seen it happen before, where Garrett had stepped between a whore and her pimp, or a wife and her husband.

In those moments, he wasn’t the easygoing man she knew. There was a darkness in him, a fierce wrath against men who mistreated their womenfolk. He’d never been able to do anything for his mother, and she knew he saw Mrs. Reed’s face every time a woman was harmed. Perry couldn’t let him go up against the duke, a man who could crush him and wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

“You’re not going to tell me,” he replied, reading the set of her jaw. “Damn it, Perry. You know you can trust me.” His expression softened. “I’d never hurt you, you know that. I’d never let anyone hurt you.”

Which was precisely the problem.

I’m protecting you.

“I was going to send you a letter,” she stammered. “Once I reached the port.” To tell him about her suspicions about Hague, at least, so no more women would have to fear that monster.

“Port? So you weren’t even going to stay in the country? Would I ever have seen you again?”

“No,” she whispered.

A thousand expressions danced across his face. She might as well have struck him. “So you won’t tell me where you’re going,” he said. “You won’t tell me why. How is a man not to let that eat away at him? How am I not to think that it’s something that I’ve done?”

“If I could stay with you, I would.”

“Has someone threatened you?”

This was why he was so dangerous. Anger would only blind him to the truth for so long. She couldn’t let him start analyzing the situation. The thought of what she had to do burned within her. “No. No, it’s not that. It’s…” Her mouth wouldn’t say the words, her heart twisting mercilessly in her chest. She would hurt him with this, and do it deliberately too. The thought made her feel nauseous, but somehow she lifted her chin and stared him in the eye. “I—I asked you not to pursue this between us. I never wished to hurt you, Garrett, but you kept pushing at me. I’m sorry, but I don’t feel for you the way you feel for me. There’s…there’s someone else…for me.”

Garrett stared at her. “You’re lying,” he said, but the words were a whisper. And for the first time in her life, she saw doubt in his eyes.

“No. I’m not.” The hardest words she’d ever uttered.

“Who?” he demanded. “Who is it?” A strange, fanatical light came into his eyes. “It’s Byrnes, isn’t it?”

“What?”

Both of his hands gripped her upper arms, darkness swimming through his gaze. “This last month, when I forced you to work together. Christ.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Fucking hell, this is my fault.”

Perry couldn’t say anything.

And then he blinked. “No. No, you wouldn’t—” His eyes narrowed on her, dangerous now. “You lying, little… You made one mistake, my dear. You should never have come to me last night if you wanted me to believe this has anything to do with another man.”

“It’s not a lie,” she said desperately.

“Really?” He cupped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. The expression in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. “So you expect me to believe that you came to my room last night and let me do what I did to you when you had another man in your heart?” Dangerous, dangerous eyes. “You’re clever. And you know me well enough to know how to manipulate me, but I’m not stupid, Perry.” His eyes darkened. “Not for long enough, anyway. This has nothing to do with me.”