CHAPTER ONE

“Hurry, Miss, she needs you quickly.”

Dot followed the shadowy figure down the alleyway, her eyes flicking from side to side for signs of danger.

She was committed to her work, but that didn’t mean she was interested in risking her life. 

She had to be smart. Cunning. Outwit both those who might guess her true identity and those who might discover her secret one.

“This way,” the man in the heavy cloak said, ushering her through a small doorway and into the tiny house, heavy with the scents and sounds of childbirth.

“Sally, midwife’s here. Hold on.”

Dot rushed into the room, as proud and surprised as ever that the announcement of a midwife meant her.

“There, now, let’s see how we’re doing,” she said, kneeling beside the woman’s head and cupping her cheek in a quick gesture of comfort before moving lower to check the baby’s progress. “Look at that, we’re not far.”

Dot worked with another woman in the room, who quickly introduced herself as a sister. A mere hour later, the baby emerged, and Dot united mother and baby, ensuring all was well. 

The proud father, who had fetched her and led her here not long before, entered the room, all smiles as Dot faded into the background, cleaning up to allow the family their time together.

Her heart was whole seeing their joy and the unity they shared. This was why she did what she did. She loved every moment of the process, from helping women when they first heard the joyous news until the baby was settled in their arms.

She wasn’t naïve. Not every situation was a happy one, and yet she was also pleased to be there to help a woman in a troubling situation or to provide comfort when needed.

No one else she knew understood it – most certainly not her family.

But at least they wanted to see her happy – even if it meant she undertook a profession that could ruin their family.

The only problem was that she wasn’t certain she would ever have what the women in her care did – not when her station in life was so far removed from her calling.

But that was a worry for another day. 

Some of her midwifery visits stretched to even days at times. However, this one being so short meant that the hour was early enough that there were still people out in the streets but late enough that most of those were coming home from taverns or other rather less savory endeavors. She should have listened to her brother and brought a groom along, but she had wanted to avoid burdening any of the servants with what could be a long night without sleep. 

She wasn’t about to pull this man away from his family to accompany her home, and when she bid them all farewell, they barely even noticed her, so caught up were they in their newfound joy.

With a small smile and her supply bag in her arms, Dot slipped out the door, wrapping her cloak around her head, hoping she would pass for someone who belonged in the neighborhood. She had purchased the cloak in a market near here and far from Mayfair in the hopes that she would blend in, as most of the families she served were those who needed help but didn’t have the means to afford a usual midwife or physician to attend to them.

She hurried down the alley, hoping to return to her brother’s home unnoticed. She pulled up quickly when she saw a group of men huddled around a door, backtracking when one of them noticed her. 

“’Oy! You there!” he called out, taking a step forward, but Dot was already turning around and running in the other direction, her heartbeat quickening.

She was sure she could handle herself if the situation called for it. She had a dagger in her pocket and a fair bit of knowledge on combatting a foe in her head. 

            If it was ever discovered who she was, however… that was where the real danger lay.

            Footsteps resounded behind her, heavy and increasing in speed, and Dot broke into a run, no longer attempting the pretense that she wasn’t aware of who was following her. 

            Her shoulder was caught from behind, and she fought it, hoping she could outrun her pursuers or at least find a haven somewhere, but she was still a fair way away.

            Suddenly, so quickly that she couldn’t avoid him, a tall figure stepped out of a doorway and into her path. She stumbled into the man, her arms reaching to brace her fall. Dimly, she noted that the fabric of his jacket beneath her fingers was quite fine, but before the fact could truly register, she heard the click of a pistol, and her breath caught.

            “I suggest you all back away. Now,” the steely voice bit out.

            Dot turned around, seeing the men chasing her raise their arms and begin backing away.

            “No problem ‘ere, just wanted a word,” the more vocal man said. “Off we go now.”

            As Dot turned back to her savior, she knew she should be wary. The dismissal of a pack of men for another stranger in the dark within this neighborhood didn’t necessarily mean safety.

            As she looked up – quite a way up – recognition dawned.

            She knew this voice. She knew those eyes. She knew this man.

            Mandrake.

~~~~~

            There were few places Edward would want to be less than in a tavern in Shoreditch at midnight in the middle of the week.

            This was the last time he was going to do this. 

            Although, he had said that before.

            Tamping down the frustration that he had accomplished little but ensuring that this one incident would not make its way into the scandal sheets, he stepped out of the door of the tavern and into the street, intent on returning home to his fireplace, book, and comfortable slippers as quickly and efficiently as possible. 

            Until a young woman flew into his arms, nearly bouncing off his chest. While he was taken off guard for a moment, his training and experience allowed him to react before he realized what was happening.

Edward reached out and caught the woman before she fell backward into the mud. She must have been sprinting from how she was breathing, the pouches in her arms hitting her hips as she was still looking behind her at the men who had chased her down. 

            First rule. Do not look back.

            She pushed against his chest, trying to continue on, but to do so would only be to her detriment – she was just too panicked to realize it. Edward held her tightly against him as he calmly reached behind him, found his pistol, and leveled it at her pursuers. 

            That caused them to come to an immediate stop.

            They must have read the seriousness in his gaze, for they voiced their excuses and began to back away. 

            Edward watched them go, holding the pistol and his gaze aimed toward them, until they turned the corner and were threatening no more. 

            It was only then he released his weapon and relinquished his hold on the young woman, allowing her space to step back and away from him. 

            He sighed inwardly, knowing that his fireplace and book would likely have to wait a little longer.

            He had no desire to stop and help her. He had cleaned up enough messes for one night. 

            But he would not be the man he was if he just walked away and left her here, only for someone else with equally ill intentions to find her. 

            He looked down, ready to chastise her for allowing herself to be caught alone in the middle of the night—and then stopped when his heart seemed to start beating in shock.

            He knew those beautiful blue eyes. Eyes that tormented him nightly when he saw them in his dreams.

            He knew those silky strands of hair that had been released from its top knot and were cascading her face. Hair the color of burnished gold, silk that he longed to run his fingers through every time he saw her. 

            And beneath that horrid cloak made of dull, scratchy fabric that was unfit for any woman, let alone the queen she was, were curves that he had resisted the urge to fit within his hands every time he had the opportunity to dance with her.

            Once per event. As per what was expected and accepted.

            This was Lady Dot Spencer. 

            The woman of his dreams.

            The one he was determined to make his viscountess.

            And who thwarted his every effort to become part of her life. 

            “Mandrake?” she said, her mouth rounding into an O, as the fear that had dominated those strong patrician features was replaced with surprise – and, he hoped he was accurate in assessing – some relief. 

            “Lady Dot,” he said, looking from one side to the other. His shock was quickly replaced with a cocktail of emotions, including anger that she was out here alone and concern over what could possibly have brought her to Shoreditch, especially at this hour. It made him sick to think of it. “What are you doing here?”

            “I…” she opened and closed her mouth once or twice as her relief was replaced with annoyance. She lifted a brow at him. “That is not any of your concern.”

            “My concern?” He gaped as he stared at her. “If I hadn’t been here, you would have been caught and … and ruined by those men back there.”

            “Well, good thing you were here to save me,” she said with a forced smile that further frustrated him. 

            “Jesting about this is not going to help anything,” he said, taking a breath to calm himself as he accepted that he wasn’t going to receive any answers at the moment. “Are you alone in Shoreditch?”

            “Yes.”

            “Come, then. The priority is to return you home.”

            “I can see myself home.”

            He stared at her incredulously. “Can you? Is that what you were trying to do just now?”

            “I was waylaid.”

            He snorted as he shook his head. “Very well. Let’s try this another way. Please accept a carriage ride to your home, Lady Dot. If not for yourself, but for me, as if you do not, I will only follow you home.”

            “There is no need for that, I assure you. I am almost out of this winding street and will be able to hire a hack.”

            “A hack.”

            “Yes.” She lifted her chin as though to challenge him, and he dug his fingernails into his palms.

            “I could not live with myself if I let you continue alone.” He was proud that he kept his voice even.

            They stared at one another in quiet assessment. She might have been a foot shorter than him – most women were – but she made up for her lack of stature with her stubbornness—one of her few faults. 

            “Very well,” she finally agreed. “On one condition.”

            A condition. He was the one helping her. He couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say.

            “You will not tell my brother about this.”

            So Lord Fitzroy did not know of his sister’s nighttime whereabouts. Interesting.

            “And,” she continued, “you will not use this against him in any way.”

            “I would never blackmail anyone,” he said, stiffening.

            “Of course, you would never do such a thing.” Was she mocking him? “I still need you to promise.”

            “Very well, Lady Dot. I promise.” Anything to move this along. “Now, can we please return to my carriage?”

            They were receiving their fair share of stares as they stood in the middle of the narrow, winding street. He wasn't sure whether it was her beauty or his clothing, but they would make for targets of everyone from street urchins to pickpockets to more dangerous criminals. 

            When she nodded curtly, he held out his arm to take her bags from her, but she shook her head, drawing them in closer to her body.

            “Please allow me to carry those for you?” he asked through gritted teeth, but she shook her head again.

            “I am fine.”

            As they walked toward the carriage, she looked over toward him.

            “So what were you doing in that tavern, Lord Mandrake? You have made me out to be a poor judge of character, for I did not believe you to be the type of man who would frequent such an establishment. I thought that was one of the reasons you and my brother never got along – because you judged his nocturnal activities, at least before he met Eliza.”

            “You keep your secrets, Lady Dot, and I will keep mine,” he said as they emerged onto the busier street and he led her to his waiting driver and carriage. “Now,” he said, holding a hand out to her, “in you go.”

            As she stepped by him, he rubbed a hand over his face. Tonight would either seal their fate or close this door forever.

            Either way, it had to be done. He couldn’t continue doing this with her. 

            Even if he had no wish to ever say goodbye.