“I’m borrowing these garments. They aren’t mine.” She pointed a finger at him. “I would never be able to repay all this.”
“You don’t have to repay me.”
“But you can’t possibly spend all that money on me.” She closed her fists, underlining her point as if he were the unreasonable one.
Yet he’d been in her position when he’d owned nothing and had relied on her family’s generosity to survive. The sensation of being at the receiving end of compassion was bittersweet; it warmed his heart but troubled his mind. He wouldn’t force her to accept his money.
“I’ll clean up the mess.” She gestured at the boxes and cups of tea. “Your housekeeper will have a fit. Why don’t you have an army of servants, as every lord in town?”
“Oh, please.” He patted the box in pocket again. “At first I had the lot, a butler, two footmen, a valet, countless maids, and a cook, and I was going mad. I didn’t have a moment for myself. There was someone cleaning or tidying in every room, and to be honest, I felt ridiculous. It’s only me here, and I can take care of myself as I’ve always done. I dismissed them except for Mrs. Collins and Murray, who, thank goodness, don’t live here. I’m not a child, and they’re more than enough.”
“Right.” She worried at her bottom lip. “I’ll tidy up then. It’s not a problem.”
“I’ll help you.”
“No.” She balled her fists on her hips. “So? Do you agree to take everything back after our mission is finished?”
Mission. He wanted to laugh. “If you don’t want the clothes, it’s your choice.”
She exhaled and flexed her fingers. “Thank you.”
He grinned. “You’re thanking me for not giving you the clothes?”
She rubbed the deep lines on her forehead. “Er…yes, I guess I am.”
Hell, she looked adorable, all flushed and bothered.
He handed her the velvet box. “Then I guess this is borrowed as well.” Despite his efforts at joking, a quiver crept into his voice.
“What is that?” She hesitated before taking the box.
“Open it.” He didn’t realise how much he wanted her to like the ring until now.
A gasp left her when she opened the lid and the light hit the violet stone. Silence stretched to the point where he had to say something.
He cleared his throat. “I thought it matched your eyes. And it’ll complete the disguise,” he added in a hurry in case she protested again.
She seemed to freeze, and a flush coloured her cheeks. “It’s beautiful. It’s the most beautiful jewel I’ve ever seen.”
An awkward moment thickened between them. He shifted his weight. She avoided his gaze. He hoped she wouldn’t reject the ring only because it was expensive. It was, but he wanted to see it on her finger.
“May I?” he asked, stretching out his arm towards the ring.
She nodded, lifting her trembling hand. He slid the ring onto her elegant finger. That damn flutter in his chest started again. It was as if a hummingbird were trapped inside him. The violet stone glittered in the sunlight. The ring was indeed perfect.
“Is it too tight?” He found it difficult to release her hand.
“No. It must have cost a fortune.” She admired the stone. “It must have been expensive.”
“Only the best for my wife.”
She whipped her head up. “Keith?—”
“It completes the pretence.” He closed his hand around hers. “Please accept it. Please.”
She gave him a nod that lacked confidence.
He let go of her hand reluctantly. “I’ve just received news.” He handed her the letter. “Would you mind translating it?”
“Of course.” She drew her eyebrows together as she read the letter, looking adorable. “Your friend says that Count Bassini-Verdelli will be at Rochefort Teahouse tomorrow. He arrived in London earlier than expected. The house in St. Giles hasn’t been sold yet. The count won’t stay in London, though. He’ll leave for Bakewell soon. If you want to see him, you’ll need to be quick.”
“Thank you.” He cradled his chin. “I hoped I had more time to talk to him.”
“The next step of our mission is to get an invitation to Bakewell from the count,” she said.
“How?”
She eyed the pretty capelet she’d shown him. “By introducing your new wife to him.”
