Dylan de Beaumon, the adopted daughter of a Duke, recalls the memories of her past-life after hitting her head. Upon realizing she was a villainess character in a novel, she decides to use her intellectual giftedness to get a good career and run awa...
Clouds gathered and drops of rain began to fall. They splattered against the carriage windows, drawing Dylan's gaze to the where the drops slid down the glass like tears. The rain drummed softly on the carriage roof—a soothing sound that Dylan both hated and loved.
"It's raining," she said, softly.
Laikin nodded and stared out at the rain. Up until now, he had only been staring at her as she admired the passing scenery. The skin under Dylan's eyes was slightly bruised from fatigue and her wrists were swollen with unexplained bruising.
"You always look sick." He stared absently out the window as he spoke. "Do you take care of yourself?"
A soft laugh escaped her throat. "I've been sick since I was a child," she explained. "My Lord needn't concern himself with such trivial matters."
The two of them sat in an awkward silence. They did not smile. They did not frown. They didn't show either fear or curiosity or friendliness. Neither one of them knew what to say or feel.
Although Dylan's face remained expressionless, her eyes were dark with emotion. Dylan had once thought the rain was beautiful. It was calming, with a regular, predictable pattern. The day her mother fell ill and she hurt herself trying to find help in the rain—the rain no longer looked the same.
'I wonder what would have happened if I didn't fall that day.'
"How troublesome," she muttered under her breath—low enough for only her to hear. The thoughts sent a shiver up her spine.
Laikin leaned forward and threw his cloak over her shoulders. Even though he intended to use her, there was no point in letting her freeze. Laikin's brows drew together, his expression perplexed. He didn't understand if he was pretending, or if he really cared.
Dylan was dangerous and he knew it. Not the way she acted or what she did, but those eyes... They had a way of observing everything and everyone. He could never figure out what she was thinking.
"This is the second time you've given me something," she said.
He chuckled softly as he pulled her closer by the cloak clasp. "I always lose things around you. First my Black Coat and now my favourite cloak."
My mind, he added in his head.
With their faces inches apart, they assessed each other. They were two people so similar, but despite this, they remained as unsolved puzzles to one another.
Dylan looked up into Lakin's eyes. "Tell me," she said, "what it is that you want."
'Stop pretending.'
A slow smile worked its way across his face and into his blue eyes. Dylan caught her breath. Dangerous. His looks were dangerous.
"You're quite smart," he said, fastening the clasp and letting go. "There is something that I want."
She leaned back in her seat and looked up at his face. "Go on, then."
"I want to make a deal with you, Miss. Dylan." He leaned a shoulder against the carriage wall and folded his arms across his chest. "If you do something for me, then I'll do something for you. How about it?"
"What do I have to do?"
He continued to stare at her while he spoke. "My mother will be having a tea party this weekend," he explained. "Only certain women are allowed to attend, but I've managed to secure you an invitation. I need you to go and find something out for me."
She squinted accusingly at Laikin. "What sort of information are you looking for?"
"One of the women who will be attending is married to Baron Morsher. He recently acquired possession over a mine that I've had my eye on. All you need to do is find out his plans for the mine from her."
She sighed, gazing up at him. "I guess it's safe to assume that Baron Morsher is trying to keep the information from falling into your hands. What makes you so sure she'll tell me?"
"Because you," he said as he leaned forward, "are brilliant enough to trick her into telling you." His warm lips brushed her forehead, sending shockwaves through her body.
Dylan's blush rose immediately and she felt it working its way up her neck. "And I get something in return?" she asked, turning her head to avoid his gaze.
"Of course. A deal is a deal." He nodded and smiled. "What is it that you want?"
For several seconds while she thought, the awkward silence from earlier continued.
And then—
Dylan regarded him with her calm, expressionless eyes. "A new identity."
A moment of shock flashed across his handsome face. "You want a fake name?" he asked her.
"Yes," she replied, nodding. "A name under which I can buy land with and invest in stocks."
'In the novel, Laikin secretly had a strong relationship with a number of guilds. If there's someone who can secretly get me a new name without the Duke knowing—it's him.'
He gave a husky laugh at her words. "Very well," he said, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "It looks like you and I have a deal."
Laikin had originally approached Dylan for his own reasons. Her status as a Duke's daughter was high enough to get her an invitation to his mother's tea party. Dylan also remained absent in high-society, so several women would be vying for her favour when meeting her for the first time—including Baroness Morsher.
The main reason, however, was neither of the latter. The main reason why he was so drawn to her was because of her mind and intelligent eyes. He wondered just who Dylan de Beaumon really was.
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