Tricia woke late into the morning, feeling as though she’d barely slept.

Dragging herself down to the breakfast room, her mother gave her a look of concern. “You look terrible, darling. Are you not feeling well?”

Tricia winced. The last thing she needed to do was give her mother something else to worry over. “I’m fine, Mother. Truly. I’m just not sleeping well.”

Her mother gave her head a small jerk of agreement. “I understand that. Neither am I.”

“How is Father?” Tricia’s insides clenched at the question.

“The same, I’m afraid.” Her mother pushed the eggs on her plate to the other side, not really eating. “His cough hasn’t gotten worse and the fever comes in and out so that is something I suppose.”

Consumption was eating her father from the inside. “Any word on Fenton?” Tricia asked, barely above a whisper.

“None.” Her mother shook her head. “But if he doesn’t appear very soon, than he will forfeit the second half of his inheritance.”

Tricia swallowed. Fenton had lost his parents at sea while they were journeying to America four years prior. He’d received all of the inheritance that had been entailed. Though, she could only assume there wasn’t much because from the start he’d mentioned being plagued by financial difficulties. She’d tried to learn more but he would never share. Said he didn’t want to burden her. He was set to receive the second half of his inheritance on his twenty-fourth birthday. Provided he was in attendance to claim it. Tricia was beginning to wonder if it was the very reason for his disappearance. “I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

She knew he’d been struggling with the loss, and with the debts, but she’d no idea how much until recently. To not even care about money that would sustain him…

“I hope so,” her mother’s voice broke a little on the last word. “With everything that is happening with your father, I haven’t been able to reach out to Fenton.”

“Is Tabbie still set to arrive tomorrow?” Tricia had to admit her sister’s arrival would be a great relief. Her older sibling always knew what to do.

Her mother nodded, looking down at her plate. “Yes, thank goodness. Poor Teddy is struggling with your father’s illness.”

“He’s too young to be a duke.” Tricia added, her hand pressing to her chest. At fifteen years of age, it was far too soon for anyone to take on that kind of responsibility. But as the youngest in the family, Teddy had been rather protected and he needed time to learn to be his own man.

“Tabbie will be able to handle him much better than myself.” She looked at Tricia then. “Thank you for being so steadfast. It’s been nice not to have to worry about you, as always.”

Tricia winced inwardly. If only her mother knew what she had been actually doing all these nights. Everyone, including the staff, had been so focused on her father, no one seemed to notice that she was behaving as no lady should.

It played in Tricia’s favor that she’d always been the obedient child. Tabbie’s chaperone had been much sharper.

Tricia rubbed her temples. With any luck, Ryker’s man would be successful and she could cease her nightly outings.

Thoughts of Ryker made her simultaneously relax and tense. An odd sensation indeed. She knew, by some intuition, he would handle Fenton’s disappearance with the same calculating efficiency that he’d escorted her home. And while she could admit that it was a relief to have help, the man himself disconcerted her to no end. Frankly, it was more of a riot deep inside her that she simply didn’t understand.

Sitting up straighter, she pushed those thoughts aside. It was important to clear her mind so perhaps tonight she could sleep.

Then a new thought occurred to her. She didn’t know who Ryker was. Not really. How would she know if Fenton had been found? If the situation had been handled?

With a sigh she realized she would have to find him to ask and there was only one place she knew to look. The docklands…

It was with that in mind that she slipped down the quiet London streets. She was growing more adept at maneuvering in the night, staying in the shadows. And this time, she’d had the forethought to take some clothing from a stable boy. With her hair tucked in her shirt and a sturdy coat on, she ought to be far safer this evening.

She’d sat with her father all afternoon, and it had near broken her heart. His breathing was labored and he slept almost constantly. They’d only been able to get the barest bit of food into him so he’d wasted away before their eyes having been ravaged by fever for days.

She’d mopped his brow and sang him songs, wishing there was more she could do. But she was helpless to stop the disease within his body.

That helplessness propelled her feet now, and she moved faster, determined to save one family member. In the strictest sense, Fenton wasn’t her responsibility. But he didn’t have any other family and Tricia firmly believed in helping those who needed it. Besides, it felt good to help Fenton when she was next to useless with her father.

It took her far longer than she’d hoped to slip through the shadows and make it the docks. She knew she had interrupted Ryker’s business the night before and she was betting that he’d be back tonight. But it was possible that she was wrong, or that she’d miss him. Her nerves fluttered to think of being back in that awful place without him.

Which was astonishing, considering she’d only known him for a day. Despite the fact that he was overbearing and disapproving when she’d been with him last night, the worry that had been consuming her of late had calmed.

Of course, he started a storm of another kind entirely, but she couldn’t think of that now.

She slipped into the same alley she’d been in the night before and hid herself behind some steps. This time, she was determined to remain safe.

For over an hour she remained crouched down. Cold and tired, she watched the occasional passerby, looking for Ryker.

But as the hour grew later, Tricia nearly gave up hope. He wasn’t coming tonight, or had come already, or had passed by another way. It had been a foolish plan, like all her recent ones, born out of desperation.

But then a noise caught her ear. The tap of feet clearly running rather than walking. As the person approached, she caught the sound of labored breathing and then a deep baritone yelling, “Stop or I’ll shoot.”

Ryker. She recognized the sound of his voice bellowing through the dark streets. Without a thought, she jumped up and ran to the mouth of the alley just as a man dressed entirely in black ran toward it. Even his face was covered. Without a thought, she stuck her foot out directly in his path.

His legs tangled with hers and he tumbled to the ground, and Tricia landed squarely on her bottom. She quickly pulled her foot back in as the man gave her a scathing look, at least that was her assumption from what little she could see of his face while he tried to right himself.

“What do you think you are doing?” a voice growled just to her right. Her head snapped up and she saw Ryker standing above them both, his pistols out again.

“Helping you?” she replied, a question in her voice.

He gave her a hard glare. “I wasn’t talking to you, actually. I will deal with you after I take care of him.”

Another man ran up just behind Ryker. “Did you catch him?”

He was an older gentleman, though spritely of form, and his keen gaze swept over her in a way that made her feel as though he’d just learned all of her secrets.

“Yes, Mr. Hart, this is him. Tie his hands and then check his right front pocket.” Ryker waved the pistol in the general direction of the man’s chest.

Mr. Hart did as he was told with an efficiency that made Tricia swallow. She wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his brutal capability.

Once tied, Mr. Hart turned the man over and reached into his pocket. From it he withdrew a small satchel. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

“Yes,” Ryker replied.

At the same moment, the man lying on the ground finally spoke. “You can’t take my personal possessions.”

“Actually, it’s you, sir, who took mine.” Ryker took the sack from Mr. Hart. After pulling its tiny string open a lovely ruby necklace tumbled out onto his palm.

She gasped, and then covered her mouth as he tucked the piece of jewelry back into the satchel and then closed it, tucking it into his pocket.

Together he and Mr. Hart hauled the other man to his feet. Ryker turned to her. “I’ll be back in just a few moments. Do yourself a favor, for once, and hide.”

He didn’t wait for her response. He seemed sure she’d obey as they began marching the man down the street.

Tricia backed herself into the shadows. She knew Ryker was a Lord, or perhaps the son of titled gentleman so why was he chasing thieves who’d stolen very expensive jewels? She couldn’t help but wonder despite having promised not to ask. As she prepared herself to wait he returned, striding into the alley and hauling her to her feet with no more grace then he had the thief. “Tricia,” he hissed.

“Ryker,” she returned, her hands resting on her hips, her irritation bubbling to the surface.

“Don’t give me guff. What the bloody hell are you doing here again?” he growled, stepping closer to her.

“I wanted to speak with you,” she murmured, a little less irritated. He was likely right to be angry. It was folly to be here.

He searched her face with dark, penetrating eyes until her insides squirmed with a restlessness that near left her breathless. “Why?”

She huffed a breath, more to clear her head than express her irritation. His presence was making her forget all sound reasoning. “Fenton.” She only managed the single word.

“What about him?” Ryker wrapped an arm around her, propelling her forward in the exact route they had taken the evening before. It was almost familiar, comfortable.

She rubbed her temples to try and make her mind remember the conversation they were having. “You don’t know who I am, I don’t know who you are. How will you tell me if you’ve found him?”

His carriage pulled in front of them, as if it were summoned from thin air and he snapped open the door and near pushed her inside. Then he gave the exact address where he’d dropped her the night before. Climbing in, he sat across from her. “I’ve already found Fenton, delivered him to a sanitarium for treatment, and left you a note via the orphanage. It will likely be delivered to you first thing in the morning.”

“What?” She blinked, her muddled brain trying to process what he’d said. Relief made her limp and a joy made her breath catch even as her mind attempted to catch up to her body’s reaction.

He sighed then. “I’ve found him and—” But he couldn’t finish because she launched herself across the carriage and onto his lap, her hands wrapping around his neck.

“Thank you,” she cried as she pressed her body to his. As her chest crushed against his, she became aware of her error in judgment. First, because in the absence of skirt, petticoats, and corsets, she could feel every hard line of him. Every muscle and deliciously firm angle that fitted against her softer curves. It was divine, and the ache she’d experienced in his company thrummed between her legs. It was then that she understood the flutter of excitement she always felt around him.

It was lust. Dear lord, she’d never experienced anything like it. She’d felt a few flutterings but those hardly compared. This coursed through her making her heart race and her thoughts a jumbled mess.

He did not return the gesture. His hands remained stiffly at his side, his face pressed back against the seat to gain some distance from her.

“Tricia,” he growled again, a warning in his voice.

She swallowed hard and sat back slightly. A new emotion adding to her confusion: humiliation. Of course he didn’t find her awkward dive into his lap attractive. What man would? She was no beauty and she already knew that her options for a husband would be very limited. And how many of those suitors would understand her desire to work outside of her home in orphanages and soup kitchens? It was part of the reason she’d decided to remove herself from the marriage market. “I am so very sorry. That was terribly inappropriate. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Then, realizing she was still on his lap, she started to attempt to scramble off. But her limbs simply wouldn’t work correctly and somehow, her legs became tangled in his.

“Bloody hell,” he mumbled this time and her cheeks flamed in her embarrassment. How could this be happening?

Pushing off his chest, she managed to get one foot solidly on the floor. “Just give me a moment—” but she stopped talking when something poked her derriere. Was that…

Her eyes flew to his as she froze in place. She was no longer mortified but still equally uncertain of what to do. Her sister had explained the general mechanics of what happened between a man and a woman. Her mother would never be up for such a task.

“Are you innocent?” His voice had taken on a gravelly tone that somehow made the ache inside sharpen. She had the urge to rub her behind against his member to see what would happen.

Instead, she nodded her answer, not moving at all. “Yes,” she finally managed to whisper.

His hands came to her hips, and for a moment, rested there. It seemed to Tricia that he squeezed them, pressed her tighter to himself before he gently lifted her away from him, setting her on the bench next to him. “I thought so.” He sighed again. “A different man other than myself would have taken advantage of you.” He shook his head, rubbing his temples. “I’ve never met a woman who so completely lacked the ability to keep herself safe.”

Her body was still thrumming with need. Part of her wanted to return to his lap while the other, more sensible part, knew what a mistake that would be. The thought calmed her and she managed a little sniff. “Up until now, I’ve been the good daughter.”

A rumbling sound ripped from his throat and her eyes flew to his again. What in the world was that? But as another and then another followed, she realized he was laughing. “Are you poking fun at my expense, sir?”

He shook his head, trying and failing to speak as he laughed. “I am…trying…to….imagine a family…where you…are the reasonable…child.”

A laugh of her own bubbled in her throat. Not because what she’d said had been terribly funny but because his laugh had the rusty sound of someone who rarely used it. And it felt so good to laugh. It had surely been weeks. “I can’t disagree with you there.” She wiped a tear from her eye as their laughter finally subsided. “Thank you, Ryker, for helping with my cousin. It is a debt I am not sure how to repay, especially because I don’t know who you really are,” she hurried to add. “Not that I am asking.”

He made to reply, but she placed her finger over his lips. She didn’t mean to, but they were so soft and welcoming that she gave them a light caress tracing the outline. “And thank you for keeping me safe and helping me to forget, even for a few minutes, all that is happening outside this carriage. I am fortunate to have met you.”

The carriage rumbled to a stop and Tricia hopped off the seat. She didn’t want to hear his return remark. She’d given him her honest thanks and part of her was afraid he’d reject it. Opening the door, she made a dash out of the carriage. “Goodbye, Ryker,” she said just before she snapped the door closed.

Fenton had been found, her sister would arrive tomorrow to help with her father. It made her heart ache a little to think that she’d likely never see him again.