His Perfect Bride. Judy Christenberry
one day, Mr. Galloway,” she said quietly. “Today. Allowing Belle’s murderer time to leave town would be an insult to her memory. To the friendship we shared.”
Without a doubt, Lilly Renfrew was becoming a more dangerous woman to know by the minute. Fueled with misguided civic zeal, she was blind to personal harm.
And that appealed to him, too. Damn, but he had perverted tastes. Or at least deadly ones. If he hung around her very long, he’d no doubt end up turning up his toes. And that very real possibility didn’t discourage him at all.
Deegan sighed in resignation before turning to Hannah. “I’m afraid carrying Miss Renfrew’s camera will be a dead giveaway.”
From the corner of his eye he noticed Lilly wilt slightly in relief. He hoped the role as her knight errant was worth his while. Hoped he could be happy with the reward of an appreciative smile. Considering the way her figure curved attractively within the drab-colored walking suit, he knew a smile wasn’t going to be nearly enough.
“Leave the contraption with me,” Hannah offered. “I’ll see that it doesn’t come to any harm, Miss Lilly.”
“And I’ll see that it is returned to you intact,” Deegan added. “Now, I believe it is time to get this ill-advised visit to the police over and done with.”
Lilly’s hands were knit tightly together, her eyes downcast, giving her a prayerful stance, but he didn’t miss the rapid beat of her pulse above her high edged collar. “Yes, of course,” she said, her voice little more than a sigh as she settled the ridiculous borrowed hat more firmly in place. At least she hadn’t taken umbrage at his designation of the trip as ill-advised. To his thinking it was more than that. It bordered on suicidal, a fact that should have had him running for cover. It would have if he had a lick of sense, but when it came to women, that was something he had never had.
When Lilly reached for the heavy satchels of photographic paraphernalia, Deegan stayed her hand. Beneath his fingers, hers quivered. As if startled at the sensation of his warm flesh covering her softer, cooler hand, she raised her eyes, which were wide and swirling with myriad emotions, to his. Such pretty eyes they were. So expressive. He wondered if she knew her soul shone in them.
Or that they reflected a stirring of awareness for him as a man.
Deegan released her hand. “Obscurity, remember, Miss Renfrew? I’ll return them along with the camera.”
Her lashes swept down—long, curling lashes a richer shade of brown than her hair. “Of course,” she murmured, and turned away, moving to take Hannah’s hands as she expressed her gratitude for her hospitality.
With the concealing veil draped once more over Lilly’s features and the slightly ragged muff covering her quaking hands, Deegan guided his now subdued charge back down the stairs to the gauntlet of streets and alleyways that lay between Hannah’s building and the nearest cab stand.
As they left the shelter of the building, a resurgence of fear stiffened Lilly’s carriage and lent wings to her heels. He kept a firm hand on her elbow, murmuring reminders to her to slow her steps and bow her shoulders. She was masquerading as Hannah’s neighbor, Mrs. Chandler, a tall but slightly stooped widow whose reduced circumstances had forced her to reside in the disreputable Coast. Deegan only hoped that his own escort would not tip the scales against them, but when their progress along the street drew no undo attention, the euphoria of success buoyed his spirits once more.
Flagging down a cab for the short ride to the station house, Deegan quickly bundled Lilly inside.
“I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you, Mr. Galloway,” she said as she wrestled briefly with the enveloping folds of the cape and the unaccustomed weight of her fantastic chapeau.
“Your safety is all the reward needed,” he assured her smoothly, settling next to her as the cab lurched forward.
But it wouldn’t be enough. He already knew exactly what he was going to ask for. And a very pretty thank-you gift it was going to be.
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