Jamie understood what she meant—he’d heard his sisters, especially Belle, lamenting that if a lady wasn’t attached to a man, she was considered nothing. Very few women found respect in their own right.
“But why that man?” he demanded. “Dear God, throw a brick, and you’ll hit a dozen far better than the git.”
“Because he’d have me.” Evie’s spirit was back, the sparkle in her eyes that proclaimed she was no wilting flower. “Do you believe I have my pick of eligible bachelors? I’m not your beautiful heiress who probably has received twenty-seven proposals since she landed in Southampton.”
For a moment, Jamie had no idea who she was talking about, then he remembered Miss Carmichael. “She’s not my heiress—”
“Oh no? I saw the newspaper. Your photo nice and large as you gazed longingly at the brilliant lady from over the sea.”
“Hell and damnation.” Jamie’s frustrated heat blazed. “That was bloody journos, printing whatever will sell a paper. If I was longing for anything, it was t’ see Danny’s motorcar coming down the gangplank. I’d missed her.” He swept his hand to the gleaming red car resting serenely at the lamplight’s edge.
To his surprise, Evie burst out laughing. “You are ridiculous, Mackenzie.”
Jamie relaxed, glad she hadn’t taken the idiotic newspaper story seriously. But her laughter was shaky, nervous, and she kept herself against the side of the car, too far from him.
Jamie let out a long breath. “I’ll keep arguing with you about marrying the stick as long as I know ye. But later, I think.”
“Yes.” Evie skimmed hands through her hair, though she’d not be able to right the mess. “I need to go home.” She peered at him in worry. “What about the alabastron?”
“It will be safe here. But you can’t go back to Atherton. Not like this.”
“I know, I must look a fright.” Evie groped at her hair again, several more hairpins clinking to the bricks. “I’ll tell them I was caught in the rain—which is the truth.” She swooped down and retrieved the pins, nearly banging into Jamie when she rose.
“Not because of that.” Jamie put one hand on her shoulder to still her while he traced the dark love bite he’d left on her throat. “I marked ye. Didn’t mean to, but …” His need had made him lose every ounce of control he possessed.
Evie slapped her gloved hand to her neck in dismay. She turned to the lantern on the side of the electric car and used the polished chrome as a mirror.
“Blast.” She glared up at Jamie, her eyes beautiful. “I suppose I can try to cover it with my coat …”
“Not until you have a chance to clean yourself up,” Jamie said firmly. “Atherton’s house will be swarming with servants who’ll report your state to the mistress. And they’ll take your coat from you, I’ll wager.”
Evie briefly closed her eyes. “Yes, Mrs. Atherton has them all at her beck and call. What the devil am I to do? If this is your revenge on me for the river, Mackenzie—”
Jamie rested his hands on her shoulders once more, trying to quiet her agitation. “I’d think of a far more harrowing but less ruining way to avenge myself if I wanted to. Not that I will—your shove got me a little wet, is all, and your mates laughed at me. I’ve suffered far worse.”
Evie did not appear to believe him. “Do tell, how am I to sneak myself into the house without the nosy servants, who don’t much like me anyway, noticing me?”
“You’ll not go at all.” Jamie caressed her, both to soothe her and to prevent himself from crushing his lips to hers again. “Send a note that you’re staying with friends because it’s too rainy to make your way back tonight.”
“What friends? We’ve already agreed I can’t go to Iris’s hotel.” Evie let out a near-hysterical laugh. “You aren’t meaning to smuggle me into your lodgings, are you? I thought you didn’t wish to ruin me.”
Jamie shook his head. “The housekeeper there would roast me alive with her glare alone, and then tell me mum. I have a safer place in mind for you. Warm and comfortable, though you might have to put up with questions and chatter.”
“The Langham?” Evie’s agitation began to ease, but not quite. “Surely, the maids and concierge will wonder why you’re tucking me there again. They might tell your mum too, or at least your uncle.”
“No, no.” Jamie circled his thumbs on her shoulders, resigning himself to letting her go. “Never worry, lass. I’ll take good care of ye. Ye have my word on it.”
Evie watched Jamie lock the pot into a safe that had been built into the wall. A false brick facade concealed the safe when it was closed again, as did a table loaded with tools and cans of oil.
When he was finished, Jamie handed her not only a key to the safe, but to the lock-up itself.
“That way you can come and fetch it any time,” he said, pressing the keys into her hand. “You won’t have to wait for me.”
Jamie’s fingers were warm against her palm, and Evie did her best to hide her trembling. Her mouth was raw from their unrestrained kisses, the ones that had made her want to throw Hayden’s ring back at him and run off into the night with Jamie.
She had to be mad. She’d accepted Hayden’s proposal for many reasons, and so far had been content with her choice. Hayden had his drawbacks, but he was stability, and her road to peace in her life. Jamie was peril, recklessness, instability.
Why did Evie’s little voice whisper, freedom?
Nonsense, Evie told herself as Jamie blew out the lantern and led her from the lock-up. He was tempting and exciting, but soon he’d be off flitting through the world, forgetting all about kissing Evie.
She was nothing to him, an acquaintance from the past he’d decided to help to entertain himself. A man from the great Mackenzie family had more important things in his life than Evie.
Her heart burning, she followed Jamie out into the darkness.
The wind and rain were colder than before when they emerged. Jamie locked the gate, testing the padlock to make sure all was secure, then tucked her arm through his to lead her onward. Evie didn’t pull away, knowing she’d trip in the darkness if she didn’t hang on to him.
Two toughs, possibly ones Evie had seen skulking nearby when they arrived, stepped in front of them.
Jamie halted without alarm, though he made sure his body was between Evie and the new arrivals. It was nice to have him there, tall like a tree and just as strong.
“All right, lads?” Jamie asked.
“Too bloody cold,” one growled. He was solid with muscle, and his face bore scars from old fights.
“Aye, it’s brass monkeys,” Jamie agreed. “Do me a favor, gents. Make sure no one comes down this street that doesn’t belong, all right?”
The second man laughed. “Just let ’em try.”
“Keep them alive,” Jamie told him sternly. “But send them off.”
“Right you are, guv.”
“Any hansoms about, have you seen?” Jamie asked.
“Aye, out on Baker Street is one or two,” the first man said. “Visiting Sherlock Holmes.” He chortled.