Page 47 of A Taste of Miss Honey

Ben slanted a glance at her, his lips quirking at the suggestion. He detected a thread of humour behind the words and wondered if she was thawing towards him or if she was serious. Not being foolish, he did not immediately dismiss the notion. The dreadful creature was constantly wrong-footing him and was a deal more perspicacious than he’d given her credit for. She was brave too, and bold enough to do something imprudent if he did not impress upon her how dangerous a situation this really was.

“Underhand means?”

Her eyes seemed very wide and very blue behind her spectacles and entirely guileless. That ought to make a man wary. Underrating her determination to punish him, and to discover the truth about him, had been his first mistake and one he seemed doomed to repeat over and again.

“Why not?” she asked, keeping her voice light.

Anyone watching would think they were passing the usual polite nothings expected upon such an excursion.

“Because it would be the sensible thing to do,” he suggested.

She laughed, a rather rueful sound. “I’ve never been very good at being sensible, as you must know by now. But I have the niggling suspicion that there is something nefarious going on. I would like to believe that you are on the right side of things, but I need you to convince me of that. Otherwise, I might decide to make your life exceedingly difficult.”

Ben cursed under his breath. “Damn you, Izzy! You can’t poke your nose into this. It’s too dangerous.”

She met his eyes, her gaze implacable. “If you tell me not to trouble my pretty head about it, I shall strike you.”

There was a steely note behind the words that promised retribution if he dared treat her like a fool. Ben growled with frustration.

“When you were so very ill, I was terrified. I prayed and prayed that I might save you, and I — I forbade you from dying. Yet here you are, putting yourself in danger again. You might at least tell me why.”

Ben’s heart ached at her words, hearing the truth of how afraid she’d been, how hard she’d worked to keep him alive. The desire to tell her everything warred with his need to keep her out of danger, and he did not know what to do for the best.

They drove on, a stiff silence simmering between them.

“What do you want to know?

“I suggest you begin at the beginning. Who are you, really? Where have you been all these years, and why are you back in England?”

He glared at her, but she just waved her hand at him, suggesting he stop prevaricating and get on with his recital.

“I should pitch you out headfirst,” he muttered.

To his frustration, she only smiled. “Yes, yes, and I ought never to have bothered saving your sorry skin if you were only going to get yourself killed again—which I have the strong feeling you are trying to do. Now, if you do not want me to poke my nose in and ask Lord Alveston some exceedingly probing questions—”

His blood ran cold, terror striking at his heart. “You listen to me, you beautiful nitwit, stay away from Alveston. He’s more dangerous than you can imagine. He’ll kill you without a second thought if he thinks you know anything. Do you understand?”

Though she jumped a little at his sharp tone, she did not look away from him, her expression only becoming increasingly curious, plague take the girl.

“I thought so,” she said. “I felt it the first time we met. Oh, not that he was as dangerous as you say, but I disliked and distrusted him, and I cannot say I have ever felt such animosity for anyone before.”

Ben sighed, slowing the horses to a walk. “If I tell you, it will be on two conditions. One, you must speak of this to no one and never let on that you know a thing about it. Two, you will keep out of it, you will not pursue Alveston or ask dangerous questions. And I’ll have your word, Miss Honeywell.”

She sat silently beside him, and Ben studied her profile with increasing impatience.

“Well?” he exclaimed after the silence became interminable.

“I’m thinking!”

“What the devil is there to think about?”

Her elegant shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “I might figure it all out by myself and then I need promise you nothing.”

Ben groaned. This was bad. She was going to take a good deal of careful handling, and he had promised himself not to handle her at all. In any way. With its usual idiocy and recklessness, his mind immediately conjured the vision of his hands filled with her delicious breasts, squeezing and fondling her in ways that made his blood fire in his veins. Stop it. Concentrate, you great lout. He turned back to her, glowering unhappily.

“You’ll get us both killed, or possibly just me if you’re lucky.”

She let out an irritated huff. “Oh, very well. If you’re going to get all dramatic. I promise no one will ever know, and I promise not to ask probing questions if it will put me in danger. Happy?”