The Curious Case of the Whimsical Widow

Chapter 3 - Ghost from the Past

Lily's entire body went numb at the detective's words. For a moment, she cannot move; she can barely think straight while her throat closes up with dread. She hadn't heard the name Camilla Bird in six years and never expected to hear it ever again.

The implications of his words suddenly break through her stupor, hitting her like a bucket of sobering ice water. Gasping in fright, she leaps to her feet and runs for the drawing room's door. The man is bigger and faster than she is, and he is also not encumbered by yards and yards of silky apricot skirts getting in his way.

He catches her easily and grabs her wrist, pulling her towards him, turning her and pushing her back against the wall. He is rough enough to startle her without actually hurting her. Lily battles to calm her heartbeat and steady her erratic breathing, looking up into the face so close to hers. His dark eyes are filled with danger, and memories of their fateful meeting tumble over one another in a confusing jumble.

The detective softens his hold on her wrist, but he doesn't step away, making it hard for her to catch her breath. Normally, when Lily finds herself in this kind of intimate position, pushed up against a wall with a man's body pressing against hers, it is a prelude to some flirtatious fun, not the forerunner of possible arrest or violence.

"I am... L-Lily Lupine..." she mutters, her voice desperate and small in her own ears. She stops talking, catching her breath when Detective Knight lays one strong hand over her throat in a gesture that cannot be interpreted as anything but threatening... well, at least not in this scenario. Lily's pulse leaps, and her eyes tear up with distress. "Please..." she whispers, not entirely sure what she is begging him for.

"I have not forgotten," he rasps, his narrowed dark eyes glaring into hers as if he is trying to yank the memory from her mind into the present. "You might have transformed into someone completely different, but I have not forgotten who you were."

For more than ten years, Knight has been haunted by the memory of large blue eyes as innocent as a doe's. The petite woman pressed up against the silk-covered wall has no idea of what he'd done for her, what he'd sacrificed. She might never know, and he preferred it that way. Having her here, trembling in his hand like a tiny rabbit, is driving him out of his mind.

Lily had not forgotten their meeting either, but she had desperately tried to. She'd recognised the detective the moment she laid her eyes on him today. Fear sparkles in her eyes, brimming on their surfaces, ready to spill in rivulets down her cheeks, and then she finally remembers something else, something more important. She is no longer a powerless, skinny street urchin with no hope of living long enough to become an adult.

She is Lily Lupine, the Marchioness of Chudleigh and too many other insignificant places for her to remember properly. She'd inherited a large number of properties and estates from her late husband. With all those responsibilities came quite a bit of power. She is also the majority shareholder in a number of affluent enterprises in London. She holds influence in high places...

And she has a knife.

It is a sweet little blade set in real gold. Its handle is intricately cast in a design of vines, lilies and thorns. It was a thoughtful gift from Percy, and the blade is short but sharp, perfect for castrating any man who forces her into the kind of intimate position the detective now finds himself in.

He winces when she sneaks the knife from the bejewelled scabbard she wears like a decoration at her belt, and the blade pierces the fabric of his trousers near his groin, pricking his skin hard enough to startle him.

He is definitely receiving the message!

His shock lasts less than a second before his eyes are focused on hers again. One eyebrow arches arrogantly, and his white smile is filled with amusement. Lily does not like that smile. He is mocking her, completely unimpressed by the knife positioned perfectly to have him sing soprano for the rest of his life.