Sitting across from her, he took her left hand and slowly began to tug off her glove. Her breath caught as she suspected where this was headed. “Marcus—”
“I should have given this to you sooner. Don’tknow why I didn’t. The symbolism of it I suppose made me a tad nervous.” He raised his eyes to meet and hold her gaze. “Even if it is only pretense.”
Her mouth went dry as the kidskin slipped past the end of her fingers. Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss against her knuckles before removing something from his coat pocket. A simple rose gold band, she realized as he slowly slipped it onto a finger of her left hand, almost a perfect fit, only a little loose. As a girl, she’d dreamed of that happening in a church filled with spectators, joyful at her happiness. She swallowed hard. “You shouldn’t have gone to the bother or the expense. I do hope the jeweler will let you return it and give you your money back.”
“It was my grandmother’s.” Her stomach knotted. “My mother had a hidden safe in her bedchamber where she kept her jewelry. I’d forgotten about it until the day you and I went to the residence. In need of a ring, I decided to hell with the Crown’s order that we were to take nothing personal. I was quite pleased to discover that those who had removed things from the residence hadn’t found the safe—or if they did, they left it as it was. The other jewelry I found within it, I gave to Althea. But this is for you.”
“I’ll return it to you as soon as all this is over.”
“I’d rather you keep it as a remembrance of... when you were my wife.” Although his lips curled up with a sardonic twist, she wasn’t quite certain that he wasn’t taking the wife part seriously.
“I don’t feel quite right keeping it, but I shall be honored to do so and will treasure it as I treasure your . . . friendship.”
He suddenly grinned wickedly. “Is that what you’re calling my cock? Friendship?”
“Oh, you beast!” She slapped at his shoulder playfully, grateful the serious moment was behind them because a small secretive part of her wished it was her true wedding band and that when all this was behind them, she would still be his wife.
With a laugh, he shoved open the door, leapt out, and handed her down.
Brewster, who’d been riding up top with the coachman, approached. “That’s a monstrosity of a place,” he said. “I don’t know how you’re going to protect the Queen in there.”
They hadn’t told him the details of their plans, that it wasn’t the Queen who was coming. As far as he knew Victoria had contacted them saying she wished to attend the ball and wanted her protector there to ensure her safety. While Esme trusted Brewster, she didn’t want to take any chances that a slip of the tongue would ruin things for them. “Speak with the servants, see if you can determine if anyone isn’t an admirer of Victoria’s. Be subtle. We want people to think that, like her, we’re only here to attend the ball.”
“Leave it to me. I suppose I’m to haul your baggage up.”
She smiled at him. “We’ll have footmen seeto it. But remember you are to cast yourself as Marcus’s valet.”
He scowled. “Not even a butler. It’s insulting.”
“It’s for only a few days. You’ll survive.”
With a grunt, he walked away.
“He’s an irascible sort,” Marcus said.
She wound her arm around his. “He likes to feel important. I think he objects to my confiding in you more than him these days—although the truth is that I’ve never confided in him fully.”
“Do you with me?”
Probably more than was wise. In her occupation it was difficult to trust completely, and yet it hadn’t taken her long to begin confiding in him. They strolled up the path to the broad steps leading to the massive door that had no doubt been originally built to withstand the assault of battering rams. No one would be surprised that Marcus was attending an affair hosted by his sister, although she suspected a few would avoid him, still suspicious regarding any involvement he might have had in his father’s plans. She expected many a lady would be jealous that Esme was intimate with this fine specimen of a man. While his family name might be tainted, she imagined lying with him was a fantasy for some. That she was privileged to be doing so brought her a measure of pride. Rather than answer him succinctly, she said, “I share more with you than with anyone else.”
“Then I consider myself fortunate indeed.”
The door they approached sprung open on well-oiled hinges, and the butler led them into the parlor filled with an assortment of people: the six Trewlove siblings and their spouses, Griff and Kathryn, and a man Esme recognized as being the Duke of Glasford. When she’d worked at the palace, she’d seen him once when he visited the Queen. While he stood as large and bold as his son, beside him was his lovely wife sitting in a wheeled chair.
Althea approached, her husband at her side. “We were beginning to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”
“No, we simply got a late start leaving the inn where we stayed last night,” Marcus said. A late start that had happened because they’d spent longer than they should have frolicking in the bed.
“My parents insisted upon being here,” Benedict Trewlove Campbell said. “Seems they’re responsible for the stubbornness I inherited.”
“We’ll keep them safe,” Esme promised before he walked them over to the duke and duchess and made introductions. Esme curtsied. “Your Graces, thank you for allowing us to make use of your magnificent manor.”
“More castle than manor,” the duchess said.
Esme straightened, aware of Marcus at her side. “Yes, but still magnificent.”
“No one would believe this ruse of yours if Mara and I were not here to welcome the Queen,” the duke said with his thick Scottish brogue.“You don’t hie off to Europe when royalty comes to call.”
