The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele #1)(28)

Never had I felt so alive in the presence of one, either, or so desirable.

That last thought shocked me to the core and had me racing out of the kitchen again before he came back. I ran up to my room, shut and locked the door, and slipped the knife under my pillow.

I didn't trust him before and I certainly couldn't now. He must know that I suspected him but, perhaps worse than that, he'd proved to both himself and to me that he had the power to turn me into a brainless twit who fell far too easily under his thrall.

Even if he wasn't an outlaw, he was still very dangerous.



I awoke feeling more determined than ever to collect the reward for Mr. Glass's arrest. Proving he was the Dark Rider would not only make me richer to the tune of two thousand American dollars, it would prove that I wasn't going to be manipulated. He was employing me as his guide, but that was all. I wasn't going to fall for his charm then protect him from the authorities. I was going to point them in his direction.

All I needed now was proof that he was the outlaw mentioned in the newspaper. No matter how much I needed the reward money, I couldn't send the wrong man to the gallows.

Mr. Glass seemed distracted by the thoroughly uninteresting scenery outside the carriage window this morning. We were heading back to Westminster, to finish questioning the watchmakers we didn't get to the day before, and we'd not yet exchanged more than polite greetings. It made the slow drive through traffic unnerving. I wanted to break the ice, but I didn't know how. I was still reeling from our kitchen encounter, and my brain wasn't yet functioning properly. It was most disconcerting, and I didn't like it.

"The weather appears to have closed in," I said. When in doubt, discuss the weather, so my mother always said. "We shouldn't complain after our run of pleasant days, but it's a shame nevertheless."

His gaze swept up and down the street before he finally tore it away. He sat back, a frown on his brow. "I'm sorry, Miss Steele, I'm a little distracted this morning."

"Any particular reason?"

He suddenly grinned. It was a breathtaking sight. "The possibility of an attack by knife is on my mind."

"If that were the case, then your attention should be on the inside of the coach rather than outside it."

"Indeed." His eyes glittered with amusement. Clearly he didn't think me a threat.

"I hope you understand that I wasn't going to use it on you, specifically."

"Then who, specifically, were you going to use it on?"

"Anyone who tried to come into my room. I am a woman alone in a house with strangers, three of whom are men and one woman who doesn't seem to like me very much. I'm sorry if that offends your sense of honor, but I'm simply being cautious."

The smile disappeared from his face. I was sorry to see it go. "I understand completely. You are a woman alone in the world, thrust into a household full of people you hardly know. I'm not offended, I'm an admirer. You're remarkable."

He ought to have stopped after the first sentence. The rest of his praise was a little too thick to be believable. Coupled with a gentle smile that didn't seem quite genuine, it was all too much. I'd had enough. I wanted him to know I could see through his act, both last night's and today's, if only it would make him stop the ridiculous charade. "Please, Mr. Glass, such overly effusive praise isn't necessary."

"I wouldn't call it overly." He leaned forward and clasped my hand in both of his. "Miss Steele, I am sincere."

I snatched my hand away. "Stop it," I snapped. "I'm not sure if you're attempting to seduce me or merely befriend me, but let's be clear. I am not a simpering female who falls for pretty words, flashy smiles and heated gazes."

To my surprise, he started laughing, but there was a hard edge to it. "Is that so. Then how did Hardacre win you over?"

I bristled. My relationship with Eddie was none of his affair and it was the height of rudeness to bring it up. Yet I felt compelled to answer. I'd wanted Mr. Glass to shed his false gentlemanly manner, and now that he had, I must bear the consequences. "I considered my options thoroughly before accepting his hand. Eddie was always pleasant and agreeable. Unfortunately, he was a far better actor than you. I couldn't see past his words, smiles and gazes until it was too late. Or perhaps I've learned a few things about men since then and am wiser now."

"Or you're just a terrible judge of character. You were wrong about him, so perhaps you're wrong about me, too. It's a shame, but you'll never know if I genuinely want to be your friend." He sighed theatrically and returned to gazing through the window. "Pity."

Ugh. The man was worse than I thought.

The rest of the drive seemed to take hours, but a quick check of the watch I kept in my reticule showed that it had only been fifteen minutes when Cyclops stopped the coach outside Underwood Watches And Clocks. I remained in the coach since Mr. Underwood knew me.

Mr. Glass didn't remain inside for long, and returned to the coach after only a few minutes. He paused before climbing into the cabin, his gaze on something behind us. I turned to look out the rear window but there was only a hansom cab pulling away without a passenger.

"What is it?" Cyclops called down from his perch.

"Nothing," Mr. Glass said. "Drive on." He climbed in and settled on the seat across from me.