He was afraid. Not angry. He was afraid…for her.
She didn't want to feel this pang of…whatever this was. No, she wanted to be cold and composed and utterly indifferent to this man who had kissed her and pitied her and was apparently marrying someone else.
But she couldn't quite manage indifference. Not when he was standing in the doorway looking at her as though she'd taken ten years off his life.
She stood. "Excuse me, Mr. Gage. I'll return shortly."
"Take your time," Gage said mildly.
Estella walked past Sebastian and into the narrow corridor beyond the office. She heard him follow, and heard the door close behind them. The noise from the gaming floor was muffled here—a distant hum of voices and the clink of glasses.
She turned to face him and crossed her arms, prepared for the lecture.
"Do you have any idea—" He stopped. Started again. "This is not a place for—" Another stop. His hand was doing its tremor, and he shoved it behind his back. "You cannot be here, Estella. If anyone sees you?—"
"Then my reputation will be ruined and I'll be unfit for polite society." She held his gaze. "Rather the same if anyone had seen us on the balcony together, don’t you think?"
The retort had his head jerking back as if she’d slapped him.
"After all, you have an understanding, and I am unmarried, and?—"
"You put yourself in danger," he interrupted once he’d recovered.
She folded her hands together. The angrier he got, the more calm she felt. "But I was not seen, and I have taken every precaution."
Before he could argue again, she took a step forward. "Someone has been meddling in my life, Lord Blackwood. And I’d like to know who. After all, perhaps it was Lord Alderton. Or Mr. Fairchild. If that is the case, that would inform my decisions going forward, would it not?"
His eyes narrowed on her. "This is not a joke."
"No," she agreed. "It isn't. But my father's debts aren't a joke either, and someone has been paying them. And since you've assured me it isn't you, I thought I'd find out who it actually is." She tilted her head. "Unless you'd like to revise your answer?”
She didn’t even know why she said it. It wasn’t as though she believed he’d lied. And yet…
And yet maybe she still held out the tiniest bit of hope.
Drat. She was such a fool.
But her question still hung between them until he finally muttered, "I've told you the truth.”
"Then you have nothing to worry about.” She smiled. It was not a kind smile. "I'm simply gathering information.” A new thought came to her, so obvious and so sudden, she blurted it out without stopping to think. "Lord Blackwood, how did you know I was here?”
He shifted with a little huff of exasperation. It was then she noticed that the corridor was too narrow and he was too close and she could smell him—that warm, maddening scent that made her want to lean in and rest her cheek against his broad chest.
"Go home, Estella,” he said quietly. "Please.”
It was silly that the words stung. He wasn’t being cruel. Not intentionally. But he’d evaded her question and his weariness made her feel like the burden that she was.
She swallowed hard against a wave of humiliation and sadness, and managed to speak in an even voice. "When I'm finished."
He drew in a breath. "Then I'll wait outside."
He turned and walked toward the door without looking back. She watched him go and felt the knot in her chest tighten. He'd come for her. Did that mean anything? Or was it just more evidence that even Mr. Gage knew that she was under Blackwood’s protection, and he was only putting up with her out of guilt?
She went back into Gage's office. Thea looked up from the ledger. "Are you all right?"
Estella nodded. Gage's gaze lingered on the door through which Sebastian had vanished. Then he looked at Estella, and his expression held a hint of sympathy. And maybe just a touch of admiration.
"Pemberton and Associates," he said. "That’s the name of the solicitors. Fleet Street. They open at nine." He paused. "Tell them Gage sent you. It won't make them talk, but it'll get you through the door."
