A Kiss In The Dark by Kimberly Logan Page B

you, Lilah.”
    “Ah, go on wiv you.” The prostitute brushed aside the show of affection with a sweep of her hand, but she couldn’t hide her delighted smile. “And be careful. I don’t know what ’appened between you and Barnaby all those years ago, but I do know ’e was wild to find you at the time, and ’e never forgets a slight against ’im.”
    With a speculative look, she turned to Tristan, fluttering her eyelashes in a coy manner. “And it was a definite pleasure to meet you, luv.” She held out a hand to him expectantly.
    Deirdre stopped dead, certain he was about to snub the prostitute’s friendly gesture. But to her surprise, the frown vanished from his face, to be replaced by a charming smile as he bent over the woman’s work-roughened fingers. “And it was a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Lilah.”
    Lilah gave an amused laugh. “Cor! Ain’t you got manners? You feel free to come visit me anytime, luv.”
    With one last hug for Deirdre, she showed them out of the room.
    After the door closed behind them, Deirdre looked up at Tristan, positive her bemusement showed on her face. “Thank you,” she said softly.
    “For what?”
    “For being kind to her.”
    Their eyes locked for a long moment, and Deirdre felt her heart pick up speed and her breath lodge in her throat at the intensity of his gaze. Finally, forcibly tearing herself away, she turned and started toward the stairs without another word.
    The two of them returned to the carriage in silence, and it wasn’t until Deirdre had given Cullen directions as to their next destination and they were once more on their way that Tristan spoke again.
    But when he opened his mouth, it wasn’t the words she had expected to hear that came out.
    “Who is Barnaby Flynt?”

Chapter 8

    A t first, Tristan was certain Deirdre wasn’t going to answer him. Her expression closed up and a wary light entered her eyes. The same light that had sparked to life earlier when Lilah had first brought up Barnaby Flynt.
    What was it about this man, that the mere mention of his name could cause such a reaction?
    Just when he thought he would have to ask the question again, Deirdre gave a sigh and finally spoke. “Barnaby Flynt is a monster. A cruel, heartless man who likes to believe he rules Tothill Fields and everyone in it.”
    “And he’s responsible for the death of this Baldwin fellow?”
    “He and his gang are responsible for more than half the criminal activities that take place here. He’s vicious, and he tends to deal harshly with those who make the mistake of crossing him.”
    Tristan felt a chill at the thought of his sister at the mercy of such a person. “What about the law?”
    “You heard what Lilah said. She’s right. For the most part they don’t concern themselves with what goes on in the rookeries.”
    His jaw set. “They bloody well will concern themselves if I find out my sister’s life is at stake because of their negligence.” Memories of the way the Bow Street officers had put him off last evening roused his temper, and his mind drifted back to the conversation between Deirdre and Lilah. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been aware of the dangers Emily faced, but having them discussed in such a candid manner right in front of him had been horrifying, to say the least.
    “I should have gone back the moment my footman found Emily’s portmanteau and demanded they take action,” he said grimly.
    The sudden look of alarm that suffused Deirdre’s features caught his attention, and he watched as she made a visible effort to rein in her composure. “First you would have to prove to them she was even here, and that wouldn’t be easy. No, you did the right thing. We’ll find her. I’m certain of it.”
    Not a hint of her agitation betrayed itself in her voice, which was confident and full of resolve. But Tristan noticed the rigidity with which she held herself, the way her gloved hands gripped each other tensely in her lap.
    Hmm. Now, why