Thomas was beyond clueless. He had no idea if Violetta was talking in code or if she thought him so stupid she was trying to cover both of their tails in case anyone was listening.
As they passed a garden containing several statues and rows of greenery, the man from the performance who had thrown the rose on the stage jumped out from the cross-street of the intersection they were approaching.
“Signorina Violetta,” he called out to Violetta with all the passion of a man in love. “Please hear me out. Do not let them keep us apart.”
Violetta tensed at Thomas’s side as the man rushed toward them. In an instant, Thomas’s protective instincts flared to life. Forget being a stupid, tongue-tied, failure of a spy. He was a man with a woman to protect.
“Keep your distance,” he said in a booming voice, positioning Violetta behind him. “Miss Roan isn’t interested in your suit.”
“But all I want is an autograph.” The man continued to approach them. He reached into his jacket. Thomas’s pulse shot up, and he prepared to throw himself in front of a bullet if the man drew a gun. He took a small book and a pencil from his pocket instead. “Please, Signorina,” he said, his face practically glowing. “An autograph is all I want.”
“No,” Thomas said, glaring at the man, nerves bristling.
“One autograph couldn’t hurt,” Violetta said with a laugh. She transformed before Thomas’s eyes from the clever woman he had been falling all over himself trying to impress, to a coy and flippant prima donna of the stage. “Lord Landry, would you fetch that man’s autograph book and pencil for me?” She sent Thomas a particularly pointed look.
For once, Thomas had no trouble at all deciphering her hidden language. Violetta didn’t want to go anywhere near the young man. Thomas stepped forward, doing what he must to give the man what he wanted so that they could get rid of him. But the man wasn’t keen on having an intermediary between him and the object of his affection.
“Please, let me give this to you,” he said stepping forward. “I adore you. I want nothing more than to worship—”
“Get back.” Thomas shifted to block the man’s pursuit of Violetta, cursing himself that he let the young fool get so close.
In an instant, everything changed. The man’s sappy demeanor changed to rock-solid determination. “It’s you I’m after, my lord,” he said in a growl, surging so close to Thomas that he could feel the man’s breath against his cheek as he spoke. “The Jackal knows you’re here, and he knows what you’re up to.”
Before Thomas could recover from the shock of the man’s words, the man thrust a piece of paper into his hand. A second later, the man lurched back, then turned to run.
Stunned, Thomas couldn’t think of anything to do other than look at the paper. It was a simple note, written in dark red ink. All it said was, “Time is running out.”
The note made the hair on the back of Thomas’s neck stand up. It was written in Asher’s handwriting, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it was written in blood. Instinct told him it was Asher’s blood.
“We have to go after him,” he said, crushing the note in one hand and lunging after the man.
“No!” Violetta caught him before he could take more than two steps. Thomas jerked to a stop, surprised by the strength she showed in physically holding him back. “We have to run,” she said, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Run?” He gaped incredulously at her.
“He wants us to follow,” she whispered, pulling him back the way they’d come. “I know how The Jackal operates. There are likely men waiting one or two streets down. He wants you to follow so that those men can take care of you. We have to run.”
Thomas clenched his jaw. He hated the idea of running from an enemy more than he hated how foolish he’d sounded while trying to share information with Violetta. But she knew what she was doing and he most certainly did not.
“Where are we going?” he asked in a low growl as they dashed past the gardens and down a narrow alley.
“To my flat,” Violetta said, gripping his hand tighter as she made a sudden turn down an even smaller alley. “At least, one of them.”
“One of them?” Thomas would have registered surprise, if he’d had time to. They dodged around a series of pots planted with flowers outside of the door to someone’s home, then jumped over a cat that tried to race across their path.
As they dashed out into a crowded street, slowing their pace enough not to stand out from the crowd, Violetta grinned over her shoulder at him. “You can’t very well expect a woman in my position to have only one flat,” she said. “That would be more foolish than talking about gardens in the middle of the street, where anyone might overhear.”
The grin she sent him was as wicked as it was teasing. Thomas felt it in every organ of his body, particularly his cock. But also his heart. Lord Beverly was a fool to trust him with such an important mission. He had the feeling he was in as much danger from Violetta as he was from The Jackal.
Chapter 4
Violetta was no stranger to being followed. Not only was it a hazard of her career on the stage, there had been times in the last year when she’d been convinced someone suspected her of working for the crown and had followed her to uncover the truth.
“This way,” she whispered as she took a sudden turn through a dim alley.
Thomas glanced around at the old buildings that seemed close to falling in on each other. “Are you certain this is safe?” he asked.
“I’m certain nothing is safe,” she replied, sending him a grim look.
Thank heavens Thomas was sensible enough to keep quiet and let her take the lead. Few men, in her experience, were willing to trust a woman, especially in a dangerous situation. Thomas seemed willing not only to trust her, but to take his lead from her, which endeared him to her far more than he could ever know.
They reached the intersection of two larger, crowded streets, and she hesitated. She pressed a hand to Thomas’s chest, holding him back at the edge of the alley so they could study the situation. As she did, she felt the furious pounding of his heart under his refined clothes. Mad as it was, that heartbeat stirred something mischievous in her. She risked sending him a saucy grin before focusing on the street.
To anyone without a trained eye, the people rushing about their business would have seemed harmless. Violetta noted a man across the way from them who seemed a little too casual and dressed a little too insignificantly. He was following them, she was sure of it.
The time for pretending to be nothing more than an actress leading a beau home for the night was over. She grasped Thomas’s hand and marched into the street, turning the corner and hurrying on her way. Sure enough, by the time they reached the next crossroads, it was clear the insignificant man was following him.
“Get ready for some fancy dance steps,” she whispered to Thomas as she approached yet another side alley.
“I’m ready for anything,” Thomas replied.
Violetta grinned at him over her shoulder seconds before darting suddenly into the alley. From there, she picked up her pace to a near run, dashing to the end of the alley, still holding Thomas’s hand. She pulled him around a corner, hurried on, then darted down another narrow passage, doubling back.