“Are you certain you want to turn him away?”
“No,” Helena murmured. “But I must. Lord Thorne is a distraction I cannot afford.”
The baron glanced over his shoulder toward the window. Her heart stopped. Her feet became rooted to the mahogany floor. He turned slowly, his gaze locked with hers. His dark eyes narrowed and his lips moved.
What are you about, Lady Prestwick? he seemed to say.
Her heart leaped, pounding against her ribs and in her ears.
“Dear heavens, it was him. He followed me to Whitechapel last night.”
Ismay issued an outraged cry and yanked the curtains closed. “We’ll just see what Fergus has to say about the bloody Sassenach stalking you.”
“No!” Helena grabbed her maid’s arm. She hadn’t told Fergus about someone calling her name before the footpad tried to attack her, and she didn’t want him to know Lord Thorne had followed them.
“Why not?” Ismay’s green eyes widened. “Ooh, you like him.”
Helena shook her head. “Fergus would get in a lot of trouble if he attacked a nobleman. Please, say nothing to him. I can handle Lord Thorne.”
It was a bold statement. She had no experience in handling rogues, and rumors had it the baron was a notch above average when it came to being roguish.
Avoidance. That was the only action she could take. She could never see Lord Thorne again, which meant she must hand over control of the search to Fergus. It didn’t sit well with her, but with the blasted baron dogging her heels, she was left in a position she hated.
With no choice.
***
Four days had passed since Sebastian was turned away from Lady Prestwick’s door, and she had refused to see him each day since. Every evening the lady attended balls he wasn’t invited to attend, returned to her town house, and didn’t venture out again. A lack of adequate sleep made his mind fuzzy, and he’d begun to wonder if he had imagined following the viscountess to Whitechapel. Perhaps he should hire a man to follow her.
He shook his head. People might think he was as insane as his father if they found out. In truth, the only thing separating his brand of madness from his father’s was that Sebastian didn’t forget where he was or battle demons no one else could see.
Oh, no. Sebastian was engaged in a different type of fight. A battle of wills with an angel. The Angel of Whitechapel, no less. And she was winning.
Devil take it! He squeezed the bridge of his nose as he stood before a glossy black door with a sparkling brass lion knocker. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but God help him, Lady Prestwick was all he could think about morning and night. He needed help, even if it meant swallowing his pride.
Before he could change his mind, he grasped the knocker and banged on the door. It took but a minute for the servant to answer. Perhaps that meant she was receiving today.
Sebastian handed his calling card over without ceremony. “Lord Thorne to see Lady Ellis.”
As the manservant showed him to a tidy parlor, Sebastian’s stomach turned to stone. If his former fiancée refused to see him, his humiliation would know no bounds.
He was left alone while the man went to see if Gabrielle was in. A decanter filled with amber liquid winked in the sunlight, and he made his way to the sideboard to pour a glass. The warmth of the brandy had begun to loosen the knots in his body when Gabrielle swept into the room.
“Sebastian, how lovely to see you.” Her voice held wonder and perhaps a touch of relief.
They hadn’t spoken since the night at the inn when she’d chosen his rival over him. The familiar slow burn of anger flickered in his chest, but it didn’t combust as usual.
He allowed himself a good look at her. Her gray eyes held a sparkle again, and her cheeks boasted a healthy, rosy glow.
“You look radiant.” It sounded more like a concession than a compliment, but it was the truth.
“Thank you, my lord.” Her smile faded a bit, and she gazed at him from beneath her dark lashes as if she were ashamed to be happy in his presence. “I see you have a drink already or I would offer one.”
He lifted the glass in salute. “Convey my compliments to your husband. He always had fine taste in brandy and women.”