"Monk?" Jade asked, drawing both men's attention. "You wouldn't happen to own a pistol, would you?"
She sounded too damned eager to him. Caine knew what she was thinking. His angel was as easy to
read as a Latin text. "He doesn't and he won't," he announced.
"I don't and I won't what?" Monk asked.
"You don't own a pistol and you won't kill her," Caine answered in a clipped tone of voice.
"No, no, of course not," Monk agreed. "Caine, you aren't forgetting your trap, are you?" he asked,
when he was finally able to pull his gaze away from the beautiful woman.
"No, I'm not forgetting," Caine answered. He turned to Jade and asked, "Is your carriage returning for you?"
Her exasperation was obvious. "I hired a hack," she told him. "I didn't think I'd be returning to my lodgings tonight." She pushed away from his hold and picked up the large gray satchel from the walkway. ''All I own is in here. I came directly from the country," she added, almost as an afterthought.
"You left your possessions on the street for anyone to snatch?"
"It was my intention to have my things stolen," she answered. She sounded like a tutor instructing a deliberately obtuse student. "I was hoping my clothing could benefit some poor soul. I wasn't supposed
to have further need once you…"
"Enough!" he nearly growled. "You aren't going to mention murder again. Have you got that?"
She didn't answer him quickly enough. Caine tugged on her hair. She let out a shrill cry just as he
noticed the large swelling above her ear. "Good God, Jade, when did you get that?"
"Don't touch it," she demanded when he tried to prod the edges of the bump. "It still stings."
"I would think so," he said. His hand dropped back to his side. "Tell me what happened."
"I caught the heel of my boot on the carpet loop in my brother's house and tumbled down the stairs," she explained. "I hit the side of my head on the banister knob. It fairly knocked the wind out of my sails."
The wind out of her sails? Caine thought that was a rather odd remark to make, but he didn't take time
to reflect upon it. "You could have killed yourself," he stated. "Are you always so awkward?"
"No, I'm never awkward," she countered. "I'm usually very ladylike. Lord, you're rude," she ended with
a mutter.
"What happened after you fell?" Monk asked.
She shrugged. "I went for a walk to try to clear my head. Then they started in chasing after me, of course."
"Of course?" Monk asked.
"They?" Caine said at the very same time.
She paused to give both men a frown. "The men I saw kill the finely dressed gentleman," she explained. "For heaven's sake, do pay attention. I'm certain I mentioned that fact earlier."
Monk shook his head. "I'm just as certain you didn't, miss," he confessed. "I'm sure I would have remembered."
"You witnessed a murder? No, Jade, you sure as hell didn't mention that fact."
"Well, I meant to mention it," she muttered. She folded her arms across her chest and looked disgruntled again. "I would have explained it all to you if you hadn't turned my attention by arguing with me. So you see, this is your fault because I lost my train of thought. Yes, you're to blame."
"Did you witness the murder before or after you hit yourself in the head?" Caine asked.
"Do you suppose it was a titled gentleman she saw murdered?" Monk asked Caine.
"I did not hit myself," Jade snapped. "And it was before… no, it was after. At least I think it was after
I fell down. Oh, I don't remember now. My head's pounding again. Do quit your questions, sir."
Caine turned back to the tavernkeeper. "Now I'm beginning to understand," he said. He looked at Jade again. "Were you wearing your cloak at the time of this mishap?"
"Yes," she answered. She looked perplexed. "But what does that…"
"You tore your cloak and bruised your face when you fell down, didn't you?"
His tone was a little too condescending for her liking. "Tell me exactly what it is you think you're beginning to understand."
"It's really very simple," he answered. "Your head suffered a trauma, Jade. You aren't thinking logically now, though I must admit that most women aren't ever logical. Still, with plenty of rest and care, in a
few days you'll realize your mind was just playing tricks on you. You'll be worrying about what gown
to wear to your next ball then."
"My mind isn't playing tricks on me," she cried out.
"You're confused."
"I am not confused!"
"Quit shouting," Caine ordered. "If you'll only think about what I'm…"
He gave up when she shook her head at him. "You're too addled to be reasoned with now. We'll wait until you're feeling better."
"He's right, miss," Monk whispered. "If you'd seen a titled gentleman murdered, the news would have
hit this section of town right off. The men who'd done the deed would have boasted of their cunning. Listen to Caine now. He knows what's best."
"But if you believe I'm just imagining I'm in danger, then you don't need to protect me, do you?"
"Oh, yes, I do," he replied. "Only now I know who I'm protecting you against."
Before she could ask another question, he continued. "Like it or not, you're a menace until you've recovered. In all good conscience, I can't leave you on your own." His smile was gentle when he added, "I guess you could say I'm protecting you from yourself, Jade. Now give me your satchel. I'll carry it for you."
She tried to lift the bag before Caine could and ended up in a tug of war. Caine won. "What in God's name do you have in here?" he asked. "This thing weighs more than you do."
"Everything I own," she answered. "If it's too much for you, I'll be happy to carry it."
Caine shook his head. He took hold of her hand. "Come along. My carriage is waiting two blocks over. You should be home in bed."
She drew to an abrupt stop. "Whose bed, Caine?"
His sigh was loud enough to wake the drunks littering the alleys. "Your very own bed," he snapped. "Your virtue's safe. I never take virgins to my bed and I sure as certain don't want you."
He thought she would be relieved by his vehement promise not to bother her. It was only a half lie, of course. He did want to kiss her, yet he wasn't sure if it was merely out of the need to have a few minutes of blissful silence.
"Is that a little rule of yours?" she asked. "Not to bed a virgin?"
She looked highly insulted. Caine didn't know what to make of that reaction. "It is," he answered. "I also don't bed daft women I don't particularly like, sweet, so you're safe enough with me."
He dared to grin at her when he made those shameful remarks. "I do believe I'm beginning to hate you," she muttered. "Well, you're bloody safe with me, too, Caine. I would never let you touch me, either."
"Good."
"Yes, good," she replied, determined to have the last word. "If you don't quit dragging me, I'm going
to scream your name over and over again until the authorities come and take you away, Pagan."