All My Broken Dreams (Locksley Hall #1)

Chapter Five

H e didn’t walk too fast, which Robbie appreciated. His brown coat flapped around his long legs; his collar was pulled up against the rain. He wasn’t wearing a hat, but the snow didn’t penetrate his hair the way it did hers. On Deacon Wake, it rolled off the damp chocolate waves and glistened in droplets on his brow.

Deacon’s eyes were dark brown, almost black, reflecting the light and appearing to glow. When they fastened on her, she felt weak and tongue-tied. He was also exceptionally tall and broad in the shoulders, not that she had much experience with males. Harry wasn’t as tall as Deacon. He could be average for all she knew. He was strong, dragging the suitcase as well carrying her. Her pulse quickened when he hoisted her up against him to get a better grip.

“How long was your brother living at the Croft? I live nearby; I know almost everyone in the neighborhood. I might have seen him.”

“I’m not sure when he moved in. It might have been soon after he arrived. It’s the only address he gave us.”

Wake didn’t respond right away. “And when was that?”

“In late September. We haven’t heard from him since and my mom is frantic. She tried calling but his phone must be turned off. He hasn’t responded to her emails or texts. A few days ago, she contacted the Dean of Admissions and he said he’d look into it but that students were given full autonomy. The Academy doesn’t track their comings and goings. The scary thing is he said he’d never heard of Harry Listowel.”

The alteration in his expression was slight but she was sure she didn’t imagine it. If Robbie didn’t know better, she would swear Deacon Wake had heard this story before.

“His name not coming up could be a clerical error. Locksley Hall is a small university. Faculty and students are generally known to one another but the Dean doesn’t know every student who was admitted this year. Are you sure he was enrolled at Locksley Hall?”

“Positive. He showed me the acceptance letter; he was thrilled to get in. It’s a total mystery.” The snow was falling in thicker clumps, changing from rain to snow as the night dragged on. She looked at him curiously. “Are you a student at Locksley? You seem to know a lot about it.” He looked too old to be a student.

The question seemed to embarrass him. Deacon ducked his head and fixed his gaze on the road ahead. “I’m the custodian. I empty the garbage, buff the floors, repair whatever breaks down–that kind of thing. The building is three-hundred-years-old. Something is always breaking down.”

Her interest in her rescuer was piqued. “Is that what you did in Canada?”

“No. I have family here. They pulled strings to get me the job.”

They fell into an awkward silence. Obviously, her companion was a private man who didn’t welcome questions. Robbie could respect that. They were only going to be stuck with each other for a few days at most.

Deacon broke the silence first. “It’s possible that your brother changed his mind about school and went backpacking through the countryside instead. He wouldn’t be the first.”

“Really? I never thought of that! You give me hope that Harry is alive and well, just not in Edinburgh . I didn’t consider that possibility. I know Mom didn’t either. Harry was the studious one of the two of us. I struggled to keep up in college. I had to quit eventually. I took classes online but when I was forced to attend in person, I just couldn’t do it. Harry always said I was book smart and people stupid.”

They arrived at a stone facade that was a monochromatic hulk against the falling snow.

“This is it,” Deacon said. “This is my place.”

It was a squat building that sat flush with the narrow sidewalk. There wasn’t even a verge of grass or room for a front step. The windows were made up of diamond-shaped panes of ancient glass fixed in place with lead soldering. The window at street level was dark.

“That’s Number One,” he said. “It’s been vacant for a while. I’m on the second floor. That’s my place up there, facing the street.”

He pointed and Robbie followed the gesture. Snow misted her eyes. The light from the window blurred and bled into the encroaching dark.

“It looks cozy,” she said, hoping this wasn’t a case of her being people stupid. Her rescuer was a janitor. Janitors were always the serial killers in the movies.

Wake unlocked the front door and stood aside to allow Robbie to get in first. It was too narrow to admit more than one person at a time. “Can you handle the stairs on your own? I’ll come back for your suitcase if you need help.”

The staircase was narrow and steep and it hugged the wall to the right. A bank of mailboxes, six in all, were affixed to the wall at the base of the stairs.

Robbie’s stomach caved when she read the labels. The name on box Number One was ‘Harry Listowel.’

“That’s Harry. Why is Harry’s name on this mailbox?”

Deacon had his back turned to her to wrestle the suitcase over the threshold. He shot a glance over his shoulder at the mailbox and shrugged.

But his face was a mask. Frozen. As though he was caught off guard and Robbie knew in her gut that he was lying to her.

“I don’t know. I never noticed that name. Housing is assigned for students who are accepted to the Academy. I guess your brother didn’t let the building manager know he made other arrangements. Or he did and Mrs. Cameron hasn’t gotten around to removing his name from the box.”

“Why would he leave here to live at Dugald Croft? It doesn’t make sense.” She scanned the lobby as if somehow it would reveal the answer.

“Did he know you were coming to see him?”

“I sent him a message through his social media accounts. He didn’t respond, but he might’ve known I was coming.”

She knocked on the door to Harry Listowel’s assigned room–a Hail Mary, but if she didn’t check it out, her mother would hate her for the rest of her life.

“Harry? It’s Robbie. Harry! If you’re in there, you better answer me!”

Dead silence.

She turned to Deacon who was staring at her from the shadows. The hall was dim, lit only by a yellow wall sconce and a bulb that threw more shadows than light.

“Would Mrs. Cameron have the key to get in?”

“I assume so, but she won’t answer the phone until morning.” He nodded at a yellowed card tacked over the mailboxes. It listed the rules for the building and a phone number to call in the event of an emergency. “That’s her number, but she won’t show up until she’s good and ready. And she won’t open the door for a stranger claiming to be a relative. I’ll vouch for you but you’re not getting inside the room tonight.”

Deacon had paused on the bottom stair with his hand on the rail. He turned his head in Robbie’s direction and his mouth tightened slightly. Then he gave her a dark look that was confusing at the same time it made her pulse jump.

“Have you changed your mind about coming upstairs? It’s okay if you have, but you can’t hang out in the hallway all night. You’re welcome to crash on the couch in my room. I’ll lose my job if anyone finds out but the offer still stands. You can’t sleep in a cupboard.”

“I can, actually. I don’t mind small spaces.”

A grin broke over his face, lightening the mood. “Good to know, but the boot cupboard under the stairs is filled with Mrs. Cameron’s cleaning supplies. Not enough room. Come on. I’ll make you something to eat. You can leave a note for your brother in case he comes back, but I haven’t seen anyone in that apartment in months.”

It was better than nothing. Robbie scrawled a note on a scrap of paper for Harry and slid it under the door.

Deacon led the way, lifting her suitcase up the stairs like it was nothing. The second floor was cramped and low-ceilinged with dark rose-patterned wallpaper on the walls. The doors and trim were stained mahogany and the whole corridor was lit with the weakest bulbs imaginable.

“Prewar, this building housed workers so no upgrades were made. Postwar, there was no money for upgrades. The university does the bare minimum for its tenants, but I like it.”

Suddenly, this was real. She was going to be alone with a strange man for the entire night–a thing she had never done in her twenty-two years. Other girls her age had boyfriends. Robbie was acutely aware that she was a weirdo for being the exception to the rule.

Her heart stuck in her throat and throbbed there as she waited in the shadowed corridor for Deacon Wake to unlock the door.

As though sensing her anxiety, he paused and turned to her. “Are you going to be alright with this? It’s not too late to get you a cab. You can check into a hotel.”

“What did you mean when you said you could lose your job?”

“Male staff members are not allowed to have female overnight guests. The building is owned by Locksley Hall. They make the rules.” He stared at the wall. “Don’t worry about it. I can come up with an explanation if I have to.”

“It never occurred to me that you were taking as big a chance inviting me in as I was in accepting. I am so sorry. I’ve put you in an awkward position, haven’t I?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t think it was safe. I hope you’re not a late riser. The housekeeper comes in at eight a.m. to do the rooms. We’ll have to be out by then.”

“Deacon—”

“Look, I know this isn’t a safe choice for you either. We’re both taking a chance, but you’re in no condition to take care of yourself right now.”

“A normal person would be. I’m not proud of dragging a stranger into my problems. I wish I had more guts, but my streak of courage evaporated in the alley. You better not be lying to me, Deacon Wake.”

His gaze was steady. “I’m not lying to you, Rowena Listowel.”

A shiver went through her when he met her eyes. There was something in that look that excited her. A hunger that she responded to in her starved-for-affection state. For as long as she could remember, Robbie had felt alone.

Harry would say it was her own fault for refusing to leave her apartment. He’d say under the circumstances, loneliness was inevitable. He would argue that one does not jump at the first stranger one meets to feel better.

The lock clicked and Deacon Wake’s door swung open.

He was lying to her and he wasn’t–a contradiction that Robbie internalized as she stepped over the threshold. Deacon was not a threat to her. Not a physical threat. The threat he posed was different; one she couldn’t put into words.

It had something to do with her first boyfriend, Rick Bergman. She thought he’d be her boyfriend forever until he dumped her for Cassidy Edgar. The point was, she knew her level and guys like Deacon Wake didn’t notice girls like Robbie Listowel.

His interest in her was suspicious.

Robbie shook herself and almost snorted with laughter. He didn’t notice her now, for Pete’s sake! He was the proverbial Good Samaritan, helping out a fellow human being. A brave guy who was taking a chance, the same as she was, to make the best of a bad experience.

The only threat he posed was all in her mind.

Deacon Wake could make her forget why she came to Edinburgh in the first place. It wasn’t that he noticed her. It was that she noticed him.