The Hellion (Wicked Wallflowers #1)(54)

“He was a monster,” Adair said somberly. When she said nothing, his frustration mounted. “You won’t confirm or deny that?” Again, did that speak to her loyalty to him?

“What is there to confirm or deny? Everyone knew and now remembers Diggory for precisely what he was.”

“Then why did you remain with him?” It came out as a plea, for her answer mattered too damned much.

Cleopatra flipped onto her side and propped her head on her elbow, so she faced him. “Should I have fled? As you, Black, Marksman, and Dabney did with your sister?”

Why did that feel more an indictment than anything?

She turned another question on him. “You’ve lived on the streets. Tell me what options there were for me and my sisters, one who is partially blind?”

He started. He’d not known that about her. But then, these past days had revealed how little he truly knew about the Killorans.

“Your sister had you, and you looked after her. Well, we had Broderick.”

“He could have taken you all and fled.” Just as Adair and his siblings had.

A cynical laugh spilled past her lips. “You don’t know anything about my brother.” Nor did her tightly pressed lips indicate she intended to share anything further about Broderick Killoran.

It occurred to him how little he truly knew about Cleopatra or any members of her family. She was one of three sisters. The options and futures were dark and limited for all of their station, but even darker for women. Most found themselves whoring on the streets, others inside brothels, a handful married, and the remaining unfortunate souls—dead.

“They’re the reasons you’re here.”

She nodded once.

She’d make a match with one of the nobs when her antipathy for those men fairly seeped from her person.

He turned onto his side, mimicking her body’s position so their gazes were in direct line. “Then why did you leave the ballroom”—full of potential suitors—“and come here?” With her peculiar flight and disappearance, she’d set the household into an uproar.

“They’re looking for me,” she guessed. “Is that why you’re here? Searching for the Killoran who’s surely come to kill and steal while you’re all otherwise distracted?” Under the disgust-laden deliverance, there were also undercurrents of hurt. With a sound of annoyance, she made to stand.

Adair swiftly levered himself upright and, catching her by the forearm, prevented her flight. “My brothers worried about foul play,” he admitted. “My sister-in-law is worried about you.”

She lifted her chin mutinously. “And what about you?”

What about him? “I was more curious what had sent you fleeing the ballroom.” How had he gone from jeering and taunting the woman before him to simply trusting there was nothing underhanded about her presence here? It was the height of foolishness. By God, she was on Ryker’s bloody roof. And yet . . . he just knew.

Through her smudged lenses, she peered at him.

“Here,” he murmured, plucking them free of her nose. He tugged out his shirt and wiped her spectacles with the fabric. “You would be able to do far less squinting if you cleaned your lenses on occasion.”

Her even, pearl-white teeth flashed bright in the dark. “Oi was searching you for a lie.”

He paused in his efforts. “I know,” he said on an exaggerated whisper. “I was merely jesting.”

She whistled. “Didn’t think you were capable of it.”

Adair handed her glasses back over. “Well, it would seem we both know far less about one another than we previously believed, doesn’t it?”

Hesitantly, Cleopatra accepted the delicate wire-rims and put them back on. “It does,” she said gruffly.

He glanced out at the night sky. “His name was Oswyn.”

Confused eyes lifted to meet his.

“You asked who betrayed me. His name was Oswyn, a man who’d been with us since we broke free from Diggory, and the first person we ever hired for our club. He turned Diana over to Diggory.”

She searched his face, silent for a long while.

“Ya offering me friendship, Thorne?”

Friendship. He silently tested that word both on his tongue and in his mind. Friendship implied trust and emotions. It entailed caring after another person and trusting oneself over to them in return. Could one be friends with a person he’d been trained to hate? Or with a woman he ached to kiss, who was destined for a fancy lord who’d one day no doubt grace the seats inside Adair’s club? It had been wrong to shut her out.

Her brow creased.

“Friendship,” he repeated back, stretching his fingers out in the first true offering of peace between them.

Cleopatra grinned . . . and took his hand.





Chapter 15

Over the next fortnight, there were several certainties for Cleopatra.

One: for all the wealth she could bring to a marriage, the money itself was not enough to tempt lords in desperate need of funds.

Two: she still truly, and of course only secretly, yearned to dance during every ball she’d been forced to suffer through as an oddity to Polite Society.

Three: she could always count on Adair Thorne being near.

And four: despite the fact that a still-dubious-of-her Ryker Black had assigned Adair to watch after her, Cleopatra was incredibly glad for his presence and even sought him out. Daily.