Evermore (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy #3)(75)
“I am.”
“So you say.” His innocence was neither here nor there, although it was reassuring to think that the man she was about to employ wasn’t as black-hearted as his name implied. Fratricide was a serious charge and all the evidence pointed to his guilt. He stood to inherit his childless brother’s lands, title and factories, but worse, Thomas Knight, Lord Ironside, was known to have been a beast to his employees, something the younger brother couldn’t abide. They’d clashed many times, often with violent consequences. In the past, Thomas, older by four years, had always won those physical contests but when Jack eventually surpassed him in size and ability, he had out-mastered Thomas. The younger brother had proved to be a superb natural swordsman, shooter and puglisist and by all accounts, Lord Ironside hated him for it. Their rivalry became legendary. And deadly.
Jack Knight’s coarse laughter unexpectedly cut through the silence. “Go back to your mama, Little Chick. You’re wasting my time.”
He made to stride off again but Tilda caught his arm. Her fingers closed over hard muscle that flexed beneath her touch. “My mother is dead, as is my father. Aunt Winnie is all I have.” She let go of his arm. He didn’t move. “He's a sailor on a merchant airship, your witness. But I suspect you know that already.”
The brief flicker of his lashes meant Tilda had guessed correctly. Knight had apparently fled to the sky after his brother’s death to find the witness as well as avoid capture. Even after he escaped the airship on which he’d been an ironwing slave—one of dozens of men forced to operate the massive iron wings when the ship ran out of steam—he’d stayed in the air, albeit as a pirate.
“I will take you to him after you bring me the Oriental. Trust me, Captain. I will find him for you.”
“How?”
She concentrated on being still to give an outward appearance of calmness even though her nerves felt frayed under the pirate’s penetrating gaze. “I don’t feel obliged to reveal that at this point in our negotiations.” She had no intention of sharing that particular secret with someone she didn’t know and certainly didn’t trust. She'd made the terrible mistake with Sir Magnus Grimshaw, she wasn't going to make it again.
“I see.” He leaned one shoulder against the grimy brick wall of the nearby warehouse. Two young boys ran past, squealing with excitement as they chased each other. Knight crossed his arms and watched the boys disappear round the corner. “You’ve been following me for some twenty minutes through a part of London where no lady should wander,” he said without looking at her or Aunt Winnie. “Considering my reputation you took a risk coming here with only one matronly aunt and a hidden dagger to protect you.”
How did he know about the dagger?
The eyes he turned on her shone with a wicked gleam. “Is it strapped to your thigh?” he asked, his voice a purr. His gaze traveled lazily from the crimson lapels of her gown down the tight black bodice to the base of her skirt, slashed to reveal the crimson satin inserts, as if he could see through all the layers to her drawers. “No, too difficult to retrieve in a hurry.” He caught her hand, the one not holding the chronometer. She didn’t try to move away although Aunt Winnie protested loudly. His calloused fingers slowly pushed up Tilda’s sleeve to reveal white skin and the point of her dagger. He explored the goosebumps prickling her flesh before drawing her hand up to his lips. He kissed her fingertips, knuckles and wrist, sending warmth humming across her skin.
Tilda, caught off guard by the gentlemanly gesture and her body’s enthusiastic response to it, took several heartbeats to react. She snatched back her hand.
In a move so quick she didn’t have time to gasp, Black Jack Knight spun her round and held a dagger to her throat. Her dagger. The cold steel stroked her skin and the lips that had kissed her hand now whispered in her ear: “How did you find me?”
Behind her, Aunt Winnie screamed again but the sound ended with a stifled gurgle. The Captain must have given her a murderous glare to silence her.
Tilda shivered as the blade dug into her flesh. One flick of his wrist and she would bleed to death before Aunt Winnie could run for help. Not that Aunt Winnie could run anywhere with her voluminous skirts and a bustle the size of a watermelon.
Tilda's fingers closed tighter over the talisman still in her free hand and recited the story she’d memorized earlier. “We frequented several taverns near the docks until we saw you at the White Swan. When you left, we followed. I suppose we were fortunate to find you so quickly.”
“Very. Considering my spies at those taverns would have sent word that a pretty lady sought me. Besides which, I only docked yesterday after a long voyage and no one except my crew knew we were coming to London. You would have to be a seer to know I would be here today.”
She sucked in a steadying breath. Keep calm. He doesn’t know. He couldn’t possibly.
He let go of her only long enough to swing her round and grab her other hand. He squeezed her wrist and her fingers opened, releasing the chronometer.
“Where did you get this?” he growled.
“That’s my business.”
“No. This...” He held it up and the sliver of light filtering between the hulls of two airships above picked out the Ironside family crest etched into the brass case. “This is very much my business. Talk.”