But she was not done. Taking a determined step forward, Bridget set both hands to the front of Stephen’s black jacket. Mustering all her resolve, she lifted her head and looked up at him.
Dark blue eyes, almost sapphire in their depth, held her captive. There was an obvious touch of displeasure about his countenance, but she sensed he wasn’t by nature unkind. He wouldn’t be the sort of man to hurt a woman because he felt like it—because he could.
“What color would you say your eyes were, Sir Stephen? I don’t think I have ever met anyone with such entrancing peepers before.”
The hard edge disappeared from his visage, replaced by an easy grin. A low rumble rose from his chest and a rough laugh echoed in the room. Whatever she had said, he clearly found it amusing.
“Peepers. What grown woman uses that word? Did you just escape the nursery; and are in need of your nanny?”
Bridget’s cheeks burned. He was right. It had been a silly thing to say. “I’m sorry. You have me at sixes and sevens. Is that the usual effect you have on women, Sir Stephen?”
He bent, and their noses were mere inches apart. “Believe me, Lady Dyson, when it comes to women, I have found I can make them feel or do pretty much anything I command.”
Her heated cheeks were not the only part of her body suddenly flushed with warmth.
And I bet you have them all begging for more.
“Would you like me to sign the contract?” she asked.
He blinked slowly, and Bridget held her breath. In a flash, he produced the papers and handed them to her.
“I thought you would see things my way.”
She took the contract and hurriedly signed it, after which, to Bridget’s relief, they resumed their seats.
Thank god he didn’t leave.
“Now, Lady Dyson,” he said.
“Bridget. Please. I promise you I don’t have an affinity with my married title. If I were able, I would go back to my maiden name of Linton. Unfortunately, my late husband stipulated that I must keep his name if I wished to remain in this house.”
“You could always remarry.”
Bridget shook her head. A second marriage would never be in her plans. Once had been bad enough. She had learned her lesson. “I should think that a man such as yourself would have heard the rumors about me. Rupert did make a concerted effort to ensure that as many people as possible knew that I was incapable of carrying a child. That makes me somewhat of a less than attractive prospect for any gentleman seeking a wife. Not fit for purpose.”
There, I said it. Now we don’t have to bother with skirting around the subject.
Stephen reached into his satchel and took out a small notebook. “People are the worst when they are intent on causing pain. I did know your husband, and it would not be disingenuous of me to say that I didn’t care for him or his opinions.”
A spark of hope finally lit in Bridget’s heart. It was comforting to know that Sir Stephen Moore didn’t hold Rupert in any sort of high regard. It spoke to her of a man with at least a modicum of decency.
“Back to the problem at hand. This blackguard who is trying to extort money from your family. I have given some thought as to whom ‘N’ might be, and my initial suspicions are that this person is someone known to your mother. From my previous dealings with Lady Linton, I am aware that she keeps a diary. I sent word earlier to your brother that he should have it delivered here. Has he sent it?”
Bridget rose and hurried over to the bookcase. She had wondered why her mother’s diary and notebook had arrived earlier, now she understood. “I trust you will treat anything you happen to find within these pages with the utmost discretion. Did you also want her notebook?”
“No, just the diary. She seems to keep a good list of names and dates in it.”
Her heart was racing as she handed Stephen the diary. All her mother’s lies and secrets were likely contained in that pale-blue book.
“Believe me, Bridget, I know so many dark things about London society that your mother could have perpetrated all the crimes of Emperor Caligula, and she still wouldn’t hold a candle to what some of our so called ‘betters’ have done.”
Resuming her seat, Bridget didn’t meet Stephen’s gaze. She had fought against her inbuilt prejudices, and now found herself wanting nothing more than to trust this man.
Please be the man I think you are, as I am badly in need of a knight in shining armor.
Chapter Four
With the promise to Bridget that he would spend the next couple of days going through her mother’s diary looking for clues as to the possible identity of ‘N’, Stephen set out later that day for Witley. He overnighted at the whitewashed public houseThe Running Marebefore arriving at his father’s Surrey estate early the following afternoon.
