“People only see what they want to see. You know that better than anyone, Giles. Outside of our circle, who else knows you are far more than the irreverent gentleman of leisure that you wantthem to see?” She had him there. She could tell by the way he couldn’t meet her eye.
“And if a man can so easily fool his fellow men, I can assure you it is much simpler to do so as a woman. Most men are brought up to believe the fairer sex are weaker in every way, especially intellectually, so they do not question it. They’ll laugh at us for trying to be more or dismiss our efforts because they feel threatened. If they begin to view us as equals, they will have to treat us as equals, and they are unlikely to do that unless they really have no other choice and a bloody revolution is imminent. For now, the whole world is a man’s world and the suitable, acceptable roles of women very clearly defined.”
“That’s as may be, but—” She didn’t let him finish. The stakes were too high to allow him to shut her down with maybes.
“You claim to be the Sentinel’s biggest fan, and you believe good should always triumph over evil—and that is exactly what my column is for! So I am begging you, Giles, please don’t go to Hugh. If my family finds out, you know they will try to make me stop and—”
“Of course they will make you stop! You are putting yourself in danger.”
“Not yet, I haven’t and… well…” Emotion choked her throat. “I have worked so hard to get where I am. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for an insignificant woman from my lowly background to get to where I have? To be able to make a difference? To matter? That is everything to me. Please don’t take it away.”
“You are asking me to lie to the same family who have welcomed me into their fold with open arms. Who traveled two hundred milesto stand beside me at a graveside this morning out of nothing but solidarity so I didn’t have to face the ordeal alone.”
“Not lie, Giles, I would never ask that of you.” At least not yet. “They harbor no suspicions beyond my contributions to the gossip column and have no problem with that aspect of my career—that is the bulk of what I do, I swear it. All I am asking you to do is keep the rest of my work a secret. Just until I can prove to you that all your fears are ungrounded because I am good at my job and even better at hiding it from the world.”
His silence was deafening.
He stared into the crackling fire as if that might hold the answer, his fingers gripping his thigh. His hands again, the only visible sign he was at war with himself. After an age he exhaled and turned to face her, his gaze more intense than she had ever seen it. “For now, Diana, I will hold my tongue—but I reserve the right to tell him the moment I feel the situation warrants it or your safety is in peril.”
She wasn’t capable of hiding her relief. “Thank you.” She reached out and squeezed his hand with both of hers, then dropped it like a hot potato when she heard footsteps outside a split second before the doorknob turned.
Chapter Thirteen
Dalton came in grinning, taking in their close proximity and her flushed cheeks with a knowing smirk. “I couldn’t help but notice you were both still upagaintonight, so I took the liberty of bringing you a nightcap.” He deposited a silver tray on the side table. “A bit of brandy to warm your cockles on this cold night, to banish all the stresses from your minds and help yourelax.” The word “relax” dripped with innuendo. “It’s the good stuff, too, for you deserve the best, Your Grace, especially after the day you’ve had. Proper cognac and not that smuggled rubbish that’s piled in the cellar gathering dust.” He removed the stopper from the decanter, sniffed it sighing, then poured two generous glasses almost to the brim and held them up to the firelight for inspection. The liquid glowed copper red within the crystal.
“I know you aren’t much of a drinker, Your Grace, but this is a real treat, trust me. It’s very smooth.” He winked at Giles with his good eye as he pressed the glass into his hand as if winking were something butlers did to dukes all the time. “I had a little nip of it myself to be sure after I liberated it from Mrs. Townsend’s cupboard.” He passed the second glass to Diana and winked again.“Not only will it help you sleep, miss—when the time finally comes for sleeping—but it’ll also put hairs on your chest.”
“Because surely every young woman is desirous of a thick pelt of hair protruding from her bodice.” Giles rolled his eyes at her. “It is a mystery to me that you remain single, Dalton, for you have such a poetic way with the ladies.”
“Like you, Your Grace, it would take a very special lady indeed for me to give up my wild bachelor ways.” Dalton tugged his forelock as his eye flicked to Diana before he grinned again solely for his master. “Alas… I haven’t found mine yet.” He wiggled his eyebrows some more. “But if you want my opinion—”
“I really don’t, Dalton.”
The servant grinned at Giles’s narrowed stare. “Then I shall leave you both in peace to continue whatever it is that you are doing all alone while the rest of the house sleeps, and if anyone asks”—he tapped his nose—“be assured I saw nothing.”
As usual, neither of them chose to acknowledge the blatant insinuation, and instead sat awkwardly while they waited for the butler to limp away. Only when he was gone did Diana speak. “Well… that was embarrassing.” Her cheeks were on fire.
Giles frowned as if he hadn’t heard her or anything his matchmaking manservant had said. “What am I thinking?” He slapped his forehead. “I cannot leave here yet, even for you… I have too much to do.” He stared at her pained. “I am going to have to send Dalton to protect you in my stead.”
“What?” He was being preposterous. “I don’t need protecting!”
“But what if something happens while I am here? It’ll take a week for your message to get to me and several days before I can get back to town—even if I ride through the night I will still arrivetoo late to help you. I am afraid it is settled. Dalton will accompany you home.”
“Settled!” Outrage dripped from every pore. “I do not answer to you, Giles Sinclair, or anyone for that matter, and I have managed well enough for six months without a bodyguard!”
“More by luck than judgment!”
Her temper snapped. “How is that keeping my secret? I shall stick out like a sore thumb traipsing around everywhere with a one-eyed, one-legged, tactless pirate glued to my side! Let alone how I shall explain his presence to my fam—” His finger shushed her lips and they seemed to blossom to life beneath his touch.
“I am not an idiot, Diana. And despite all outward appearances to the contrary, neither is Dalton. I wasn’t suggesting that he follow you around like a bad smell, more that he be close to hand if you need him. An extra pair of eyes and ears for both our sakes—at my house in Tavistock Square. A ten-minute ride to Fleet Street rather than a week and two hundred miles away.” He seemed to notice where his finger was and gently removed it, unconsciously fisting his hand as it withdrew. “Those are my conditions, Diana. My decision is made and I will not be swayed. You accept Dalton in exchange for my silence… at least until I can return and stand guard over the Sentinel myself.”
“When will that be?” Something else had replaced her outrage. Diana couldn’t quite explain what beyond a deep-seated disappointment because his sad expression said he would not be returning anytime soon.
“Who knows… three months… four… perhaps five. There is much to do and only me to do it.”
“Five months.” Her heart plummeted at the prospect. “I shallmiss you.” The truth escaped her still-tingling lips before she could stop it. To cover her mortification, she sipped her drink. To her complete surprise, the taste was pleasant. The tawny liquid as smooth as Dalton had promised as it warmed her throat and gave her the perfect excuse to change the subject. “My father used to drink brandy—whiskey, rum, and gin, too—horrid stuff that made your eyes water just from sniffing the fumes. But this is nice.” She was holding out an olive branch. One he hesitated before taking.
“It was the duke’s one extravagance—he’d palm off the cheap stuff on everybody else, but he only ever drank the finest cognac. I’ve never tried it because of that. Never wanted to appreciate anything he did or have anything in common with him.” He sniffed it as if it were something noxious before taking a tentative sip. “You’re right, though. It’s not bad.”
