Thief of Hearts Read Online Free PDF Page A

elbow, "you'll keep a civil tongue where Mrs. Balfour is concerned, is that clear? If you so much as
look
at her in a way I don't fancy, you'll find yourself back in Bristol so fast your brain will spin."
    Brodie rubbed his beard, brows raised curiously. "That so?"
    "Yes, that's so. You'll be watched all the time; there'll never be any occasion for you to be alone with her. And I want your promise right now that you'll treat her with nothing but respect and courtesy at all times."
    "Seems like you want a powerful lot of promises out of me, Mr. O'Dunne." He was thinking of the one he'd had to make before they would let him out of prison, that he wouldn't try to escape; that at the end of this bizarre affair he would go docilely back to gaol and rot there for the rest of his life.
    "Well?"
    "What's in it for me?" Brodie asked, feeling perverse. "You and I know that whoever killed Nick will likely have another go, this time at me. So you're not really much of a savior, are you? Fact is, you're more like the devil leading me down another sinkhole to hell."
    "Your promise," he repeated, scowling.
    Brodie crushed his cigarette out against the wall, leaving an ash-blackened circle. "Treat her with respect? Sure. My solemn oath. Shouldn't be that hard, the lady being such a hedgehog."
    O'Dunne's lips tightened with anger. "I've seen you before, you know."
    Brodie looked across at him, interested. "When?"
    "A year ago. The Liverpool docks."
    He went still. "That was you with Nick?" He kept his voice studiously neutral. The lawyer nodded. Brodie turned away and stared straight ahead.
    He recalled that day, the last he'd seen his brother alive, as clearly as if it were this morning. Nick had looked so good. Silk shirt, fancy suit, tie with a pearl stickpin in it. Even carried a goddamn walking stick. When he'd seen him, a simple, flooding gladness had washed over Brodie. Without a thought for his tattered seaman's clothes, he'd walked right up to him and stuck out his hand.
    Nick had gone white at first, then red. He'd started to smile, to this day Brodie would swear he'd started to smile and then his face had closed up. "Sir, I don't know you," he'd murmured, in a voice Brodie would never forget. And then he'd walked away. The man with him had cast two curious looks back before they'd turned a corner and disappeared.
    Brodie unclenched his hands and took a long, deep breath. The pain he felt because Nick was dead was worse than anything, worse than his own agony while he'd waited in prison to die. It was as if
he
had been killed, as if
he
were the one who'd been knifed to death in the dead of night, before the horrified eyes of the woman he'd just married, just made love to. He sat up straight, stiff with violent, pent-up emotion, and squeezed his eyes shut, one hand massaging his forehead. "Did he ever tell you who I was?"
    O'Dunne hesitated, then said, "Yes."
    Relief coursed through him. So Nick had told one person he had a brother. He hadn't known until this moment how important that was to him. "Were you good friends?"
    Again O'Dunne pondered his answer. "Yes."
    "What did he say about me?"
    "He said you'd swindled your father out of his life savings and disappeared when you were fourteen years old."
    All the air went out of him; he felt as if he'd been kicked in the chest. "Son of a… " He scrubbed his face with his hand and let out a short, bitter laugh. Then he turned his face to the wall, blind to everything, and didn't speak again.
    After a time, he didn't know how long, he heard O'Dunne's slow, even breathing; when he looked over, he saw that the lawyer was asleep.
    Moving quietly, he stood up. God, it felt good to stretch. The ship rolled; he absorbed the motion with expert effortlessness, knees flexed, body swaying. The thud of his boots was silent beneath the noise of wind and waves. He opened the door and stepped outside.
    Besides the galley, there were four cabins below, he saw quickly. All he wanted was a walk, a chance