“. … While your instincts are noble ones, my friend, I cannot help but feel rather disappointed that evidently you feel me incapable of rendering service to you. I assure you, I am not in the least put off by what you term as ‘danger to my person.’ Indeed, those who know me would find that a rather laughable sentiment. I am well able to look after myself, as you may soon see. Furthermore. I regret that your obligations will make it necessary for our correspondence to suffer, for I shall miss both the opinions and ideas that we have come to exchange with such honesty. Mayhap it will not be for too long. But in the meantime, I, too, shall be busy ….”
Augusta removed her spectacles and rubbed at her eyes.Oh, dear. She had not meant to hurt her friend’s feelings, only protect the old fellow from possible harm. But it seemed his pride was piqued on being told there might be some task in the universe beyond his powers.
A typical male response.
She sighed and nibbled on the end of her pen as she wondered whether to dash off a quick note in an attempt to salve the unintentional wound. In truth, she, too, was feeling a touch out of sorts at the idea of having to curtail the frequency of their correspondence.
However, on further consideration, she decided it would be best to remain tactfully silent, at least for a while. The papers hidden in her desk proved that she was on the right track. From here on, things would require even more discretion and guile. And it would be even more dangerous.
She had really not anticipated how eager her friend would be to take an active part in her investigation, and it was best to keep a damper on such enthusiasm. His enigmatic words only fanned her concern. It was one thing to put herself at risk, but she simply wouldn’t countenance the idea of anything happening to him. With a faint smile, she realized she had become … quite fond of the fellow. If he were to suffer even the slightest injury, she would never forgive herself.
Her smile turned into a grimace at the thought of bodily harm.
Augusta could still picture the Earl of Dunham limping through the alleyways, and hear his choice selection of epithets on stepping in several rather foul things.And here she thought she had heard most every colorful expression known to man from Edwin. Ha! Her vocabulary was now considerably expanded, though she wasn’t quite sure when she would have a chance to employ her new knowledge.
Perhaps in her next meeting with him.
Unfortunately, she had no allusions that such a meeting could be avoided indefinitely. She had already cried off from three evening engagements in a row, but excuses were wearing thin. As she was never prone to indispositions, the claim of a headache could only be used for so long. And no matter how close to the fire she stood, the flush on her brow lasted only several minutes.
“Gus, you had best start dressing if you are not to be late.” Marianne stepped into the cozy study, her face wreathed in concern. “You are not still feeling poorly, are you? If so, I shall insist that Dr. Adams is summoned immediately, for you are never sick?—”
“No, no. I am feeling fine. I shall come upstairs in a moment.” It was not exactly true, for the prospect of encountering the earl was making her stomach feel just a tad queasy. But it was best to get it over with.
After all, he had as much explaining to do as she had.
With a touch of irritation,Marcus tucked the letter of a week ago back with all the others from Firebrand. Now that their correspondence had been interrupted for a time, he was reduced to re-reading past missives. Damnation, he hadn’t realized how much he had counted on his friend’s companionship, even if it were only in the shape of a looping script on thick paper.
But he still was rather miffed at having been denied an active role in whatever the fellow was up to. He had certainly proved his usefulness by providing a wealth of information on the six suspects. So it seemed quite unfair to be so summarily excluded. Well, that would likely change when he proved to his friendthat he was thoroughly capable of furthering the investigation—perhaps even solving it for him. Yes, it would help if he could provide some more concrete information, instead of mere offers of help. And that, he hoped, would be soon.
Very soon.
He stalked from his study, stopping in front of the looking glass hanging in the entrance hall to make one final adjustment to the folds of his cravat. Then he took up his gloves and top hat and signaled for his butler to summon the carriage.
Leaning back against the squabs, he found himself wondering, yet again, how things the other night had gone so awry. He still had not quite figured out how one moment he had been in total command of the situation, only to find himself suddenly nursing a bruised body and haring about the room to help that impossible female cover her tracks.
To make matters even worse, she had somehow come away with the papers while he had ended up with nothing!
He winced as the carriage hit a bump and jostled his tender knee. Well, not exactly nothing. His ribs would be black and blue for another few days, but at least his limp had become less pronounced.The impudent chit!Acquaintance with her was becoming downright dangerous. At this rate, he ought to consider adding a man from the medical profession to his staff, for who could predict what means of assault on his person she would think of next?
His mouth thinned to a tight line. And if she thought she could avoid explaining just what she was doing in that study, riffling through a gentleman’s desk, she was sadly mistaken! He’d have those papers from her in short order, too, just as soon as he managed to lay his hands on the maddening young lady ….
Damnation, he didn’t even like the chit, but he couldn’t seem to put out of his mind the feeling of that long, lithe body beneath his, how the swell of her firm, rounded breasts had made himwant to run his palms over the soft flesh, and make those fascinating hazel eyes look at him with some expression other than disdain?—
The Devil take it, what was he thinking!How had he allowed such an odd female to get under his skin? It had never happened before, not with any female, and it was decidedly uncomfortable. He shifted once more to ease the aches and pains in his body, then sat glowering out the carriage window as the brightly-lit townhouses of Mayfair rolled by. Despite his own odd attraction to her undeniably sensuous body, he vowed that the only physical contact likely to occur between himself and Lady Augusta was if he had to wrap his fingers around that long, elegant neck of hers to squeeze out the information he wanted.
Giving such brooding thought, Marcus was not in the best of moods as he alighted from his conveyance and walked rather stiffly up the circular marble stairs of the elegant mansion and into the opulent ballroom. The dancing was already in full swing, the ladies in their swirling silks and sparkling jewels gliding by in the arms of their partners. Marcus’s scowl deepened as his eyes swept over the clusters of mamas and chaperones seated around the periphery of the dance floor and caught no sight of his quarry. Taking up a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing footman, he set off to make a closer inspection.
Augusta pressedherself closer to the arrangement of weeping fichus trees. It was a fortuitous thing she had chosen to wear a gown of emerald green, she thought, though it would have been even better had it sleeves of any kind, so that she might blend in even more.
She let out her breath as the earl made his way into the card room … however, the respite was short-lived. He appeared again moments later, his expression looking grimmer than ever.
One of the curse words she had learned from the earl came to mind on seeing him turn in her direction. This was proving more difficult than she imagined. Though she knew it was best to get it over with, she couldn’t help but wish she had stayed home in bed just one more evening.
Suddenly, she spied a figure passing close by her, a glass of ratafia punch in each hand. “Jamie!” she cried.
Ashton paused. “Why, good evening, Gus.” A slightly perplexed smile came to his lips. “But whatever are you doing, skulking around in those trees?”
She batted her eyelashes just as she had seen Miss Hopewell do. “Dance with me, Jamie.”
