Forever My Love (Berkeley-Faulkner #2)(69)

“It’s all right,” he repeated quietly, walking toward them. “Is either of you hurt?” Rosalie shook her head, gasping for breath. “We’re fine,” Mira said, her eyes locked on his face. Searching for words, she made an attempt to speak and found that her voice was a shadowy remnant of its usual self. “How… ?” was all that she could manage, and Alec seemed to understand the multitude of questions that were invested in that single word.

“You nearly flattened my younger cousin with your phaeton as we were coming out of a tavern.” His smile flashed white in the darkness as he looked at Rosalie and added, “Remarkable driving.” Rosalie turned red with a mixture of embarrassment and dismay. He nodded his head respectfully to her and handed the fallen reticule to her before adding, “Knowing a little about this section of the city, I was concerned for your well-being and took the liberty of following you.”

“It is a happy circumstance for us that you did.” Rosalie raised a gloved hand to her cheek as if to cool its burning.

“I assume your husband does not know of your activities tonight?”

“No,” Rosalie replied, not daring to look at him. “Lord Falkner, you have my word that I was not—”

“I have neither the right nor the desire to demand an explanation from you,” Alec interrupted gently. “I merely wish to know if you would prefer my silence concerning what happened tonight.”

“Please,” Rosalie said, and blushed. “I would be very grateful.”

Mira watched Alec with more than a touch of confusion. She had never seen him act this way before. Certainly he had never treated her as he did Rosalie, as if she were some fragile and ethereal creature that could not tolerate harshness or censure. He was quiet and gentlemanly, his voice reassuring, as if he sensed that he made Rosalie uneasy and was doing his utmost to put her at ease. So that is how he treats a woman whom he respects, Mira thought, irritated that he had not yet even acknowledged her presence.

“Excuse me,” she said in a low voice, and the other two looked at her. “While you are talking, I will retrieve my knife.”

“Wait,” Rosalie said, growing even more flustered. “I’m so sorry—I was so upset that I did not think of introductions. Lord Falkner, this is Miss Germain, a close friend and guest of mine. Mireille… may 1 present Lord Alec Falkner.”

“Miss Germain,” Alec acknowledged, his mouth curving in a lazy smile as Mira refused to give him her hand.

“I… think we both must be quite upset,” Rosalie said, making a hasty effort to cover up Mira’s silent snub. “Miss Germain is very grateful for what you’ve done—”

“Yes,” Mira could not resist saying as she detected the warm scent of brandy that clung to him, “Grateful that you were not too sodden to be of assistance to us.”

Rosalie’s eyes widened at the calculated rudeness of the remark. “My lord,” she said uncomfortably, “what Miss Germain means is that—”

“I believe I understand what she means,” Alex said dryly.

“I must look for the knife,” Mira murmured, turning and walking toward the area where the prone assailant still lay unconscious.

“Allow me to assist you.” Alec fell into step beside her, his eyes fastened on her rather than the ground He wanted to shake her for the anxiety that she had caused him. A thousand words were on the tip of his tongue, yet in his heightened state of emotion that dared not say anything for fear that she would guess how much he had missed her or how much he wanted her. Mira did not say a word as they walked farther away from Rosalie and the phaeton, until she saw the thin sliver of the blade. ‘There it is.”

“Damned little idiot,” Alec said, unable to hold back any longer. He bent and picked up the knife. Glancing back at Rosalie, he softened his tone to ensure that she did not overhear. “What did you think you were doing?” he demanded in a searing whisper. “You have no business flinging this around like a second-rate Gypsy—”

“What was I supposed to do?” Mira responded heatedly. “Tremble and faint and hope that someone would rescue us? I had no idea that you, of all people, were lurking in the shadows.”

“You shouldn’t have been here in the first place.”

“Rosalie asked if—”

“Lady Berkeley is naive and too impetuous for her own good. I’ve known the Berkeleys ever since their marriage, and this isn’t the first time she’s landed herself in a bad scrape. I don’t envy her husband the job of keeping her out of trouble… but you! You know better than to get yourself involved in something like this!”

“Don’t you dare try to lecture me. You have no right to tell me what to do.”

“Dammit, you need a hand taken to your backside!” Alec raked his fingers through his black hair, disrupting its sealskin smoothness.

“Give me my knife—”

“Your toy, you mean.” Alec regarded the tiny blade in his hand with disgust. “What exactly did you hope to accomplish with this excuse for a weapon?”

“I was going to sink it in the hollow of his throat. I have excellent aim.”

“I have no doubt that you’re a wonder if your target decides to hold still for you,” Alec said grimly. “But it was so slow that he had time to do a jig before knock-ing it away. Your arm doesn’t have the necessary: strength to throw this hard enough. A child could evade your—”