behind her, Deegan sensed rather than saw eyes follow their progress and wondered how much it would cost him to make sure news of their visit to Hannah didn’t reach the ears of the man in pursuit of the wren. Hannah had had enough grief in her life without him adding more to it at this stage. Deegan peered more closely into the shadows above them until he found the silent watcher—a boy of perhaps ten, lying flat on the third-floor landing, his nose pressed to the spindles of the stair rail as he spied on them. A boy much as he’d once been, only filthier.
“Say, pardner,” Deegan called up the stairwell to the child. “There’s two bits in it if you’ll tell Mrs. McMillan she’s about to have visitors.”
Unfazed over being discovered, the boy lifted his chin off the dirty floor. “Yer mean old Hannah?”
She was barely thirty-seven years old, six years older than Deegan, but the boy already considered her ancient. Had the Coast made Hannah a crone before her time? Deegan hoped not. His memory of her was of sweet, smiling green eyes beneath a glory of flaming red hair. Trusty had always called her the loveliest creature he’d ever seen. She was certainly the most even-tempered woman Deegan had ever met. Living with Trusty O’Rourke and him, she had had to be.
“If you don’t hustle, we’ll beat you to her door, pardner,” Deegan warned. “Tell her Dig’s come to visit.”
The boy bounded to his feet, taking the rickety steps from the upper floor two at a time. He was in full throat by the time he reached the second floor landing. “Hey, Hannah. Yer’s got company.”
“I hope Mrs. McMillan doesn’t mind the interruption,” the wren said softly. She glanced down at Deegan two steps below her, her cheeks burning but not, he thought, with exertion. “I mean, if she’s already occupied with a, er—”
“Hannah’s retired,” he snapped, and regretted it immediately when her cheeks brightened still more. It had been a logical assumption for the wren to make, but Hannah hadn’t been a doxy in a long time. At least he hoped she hadn’t.
Judging from the sound alone, the boy hadn’t waited until he got to the door of Trusty’s old lodgings, but was banging the flat of his hand against the wall to alert Hannah. It took three thuds before Deegan heard a door open and her voice answer.
“Gracious, child!” Hannah admonished lightly. “You’ll wake the dead with that racket.”
“Ya got company, Hannah,” the boy announced. “A woman and some fella says his name is Dig.”
There was a feminine gasp of surprise followed by the rustle of skirts. Deegan scarcely managed to set the unwieldy camera aside before Hannah threw herself in his arms.
“My God!” she whispered hoarsely. “Is it really you, Digger lad?”
“It’s me, darlin’,” Deegan said, holding her close as he breathed in the remembered scent of her perfume. “Miss me, did you?”
“Silly question,” Hannah said, and kissed him hard on the mouth to prove it.
Chapter Three
Lilly stood to one side, waiting until the moment when Hannah McMillan and Galloway parted. Although she had never actually witnessed such an event, she doubted that Hannah’s greeting was that of a bird of paradise to a customer—even a favorite customer.
The woman didn’t resemble the soiled doves Lilly had met during her visits to the Coast. Although flirtatious curls spilled free at the nape of Mrs. McMillan’s neck and around her ears, she wore her copper hair swept up in a prim knot at the crown of her head. Her dress seemed as proper as Lilly’s own, but was a deep emerald green trimmed with brocaded ribbon. Having grown accustomed to the paint that Belle and her friends wore, Lilly was pleasantly surprised to find that the only color in Hannah McMillan’s cheeks was the result of her pleasure in seeing the handsome Mr. Galloway.
The kiss the two shared was over as quickly as it began. “There can be only one reason you finally came to see me, Dig,” Hannah declared, turning an approving gaze on Lilly. “And I must say, if I’d chosen her myself, I couldn’t have found a more perfect wife for you. I approve most heartily.”
Lilly was sure her face turned as red as a ripened apple. “Oh, but—”
Galloway chuckled and put a fond arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “I might well agree with you if my acquaintance with this lady was longer than a few minutes,” he said smoothly.
The compliment implied by his words made Lilly even more flustered, so she was relieved when he rolled right into a brief explanation of their meeting and subsequent arrival on Hannah McMillan’s doorstep.
“Dear me!” Hannah murmured when he’d finished. “Please don’t take offense. As fond as I am of this rogue, it was truly meant as a compliment. But from the adventure you’ve had, I’d say the sooner you have a comfy chair and a cup of tea, the better.” She gestured to the filthy boy who stood observing them silently. “Run down to the baker’s, Otis, and see if he has some nice little cakes. Tell him they are for me, then get something for yourself and your mother, too.”
Although he looked anxious to depart on the errand, Otis didn’t manage to get away immediately. Galloway’s hand on the boy’s thin shoulder held him firmly in place. “Before you go, I think you and I have some business to contract, pardner,” he said, idly tossing a coin in the air.
The flash of silver kept Otis’s feet still while his eyes followed the coin’s arch.
Catching the coin while it was still out of the child’s reach, Galloway bent nearer the boy. “Now then…” he murmured.
Lilly heard no more, for her hostess linked arms with her and led her down the narrow corridor away from the man and boy on the landing.
Before guiding Lilly ahead of her into the apartment, Hannah glanced back. “Oh, and Otis?” she called. “Have our cakes wrapped separately, dear.” She turned to Lilly as she softly closed the door. “Otis is the dearest boy, but, as I’m sure you noticed, cleanliness is not one of his virtues.”
At a loss for words, Lilly let her unusual hostess settle her on a deep red upholstered settee.
“Now you just sit still,” Hannah ordered, patting Lilly’s hand in a comforting manner. “Dig will be with us as soon as he’s given Otis money for the cakes. We’ll wait for introductions until he’s here.”
The suggestion suited Lilly fine. She almost believed she was asleep, caught in a dream from which she hadn’t managed to awaken. The soil on the heel of her leather glove and the tingling on her cheek where she had rubbed too roughly with Galloway’s handkerchief argued for reality.
And yet she couldn’t dismiss the dreamlike quality of the afternoon. Not only had help arrived most opportunely, but the man who offered it was disturbingly handsome, as befitted a hero in a flight of fancy. Of course, it was merely her inexperience with men, not the man himself, that made her nearly forget the horror of Belle’s murder. A more worldly woman would be immune to his casual charm and to the seductive aura of being assisted by him in eluding the harsh-faced man.
Of course, there was probably no woman more worldly than Mrs. Hannah McMillan, and that lady had leaped to such a surprising conclusion when she saw them together. The thought of marriage to a man like Mr.
