While she didn’t care for the unwanted attentions here, at least the salary was better than she’d found elsewhere. Other occupations might have been more acceptable, and she was better suited to them, but no one in the aristocracy was going to hire her as a governess or a companion, not after her father’s actions had made the members of her family all pariahs.

When all was tidied up, and the place was closed up tight for the night, she followed her usual routine and made her way to the street. Disappointment slammed into her because Griffith was nowhere to be seen . . . again. What the devil was he doing that was causing his tardiness? If it killed her, she would pry the answer from him when he showed.

Determining she was in as much danger waiting as walking, she removed the dagger from her reticule and began striding briskly home. She again had that warm sensation of someone wrapping a hand around the nape of her neck. Without stopping her strides, she swung about, walking backward as she squinted at the dark shadows. She couldn’t see anyone but still had the sense of being watched.

Spinning back around, she quickened her pace and tightened her hold on the weapon. Surely, she would run into Griffith at any moment. Even a hansom cab would be welcomed. She could use a portion of the unexpected coins she’d received tonight to get herself home.

Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw nothing, heard nothing. It was probably just paranoia on her part after all the warnings Griffith had given her. He hadn’t wanted her working at night, but it had been the only position—

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her wrist, biting into the tender flesh, and an arm snaked forcefully around her waist. Releasing a blood-curdling scream as she was yanked into the darkened alley, she struck out blindly with the dagger, shuddering when it hit its mark.

“Ye bitch! Ye sliced me!”

A brick wall slammed into the back of her head, and pain ricocheted through it. Flashes of bright light floated around her. Her legs lost their vibrancy, and she slowly slid down, down, down . . .

From a great distance, somewhere beyond where she existed, she heard a growl, followed by the echoing crunch of bone being crushed. A grunt. Footsteps.

A large hand gently cradled her head. “Stay with me, Beauty, stay with me.”

His tone reflected a desperation and she dearly wanted to adhere to his demand, but oblivion beckoned, refusing to be denied.

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