Page 26 of The Redemption of the Shrew

“He will take advantage of you and then deny all knowledge of the book.”

“I’m not stupid.” She clenched her fists. “You have no reason to suggest that I would do any such thing.”

Had she forgotten her flirtations with various men? More to the point, had she forgotten their contretemps of five years ago? He never would. One didn’t easily dismiss the image of a naked woman appearing out of nowhere. Like Venus on her seashell, infinitely powerful and alluring, it had been enough to drive any man mad with desire.

It must have meant nothing to her—no more than a wager she hadn’t won. Perhaps that was why she’d become so publicly contemptuous of his ideals. She didn’t like losing. No more did he, but he’d lost everything once, and it wasn’t so very bad. One lived on.

He wasn’t even convinced, despite her denial, that she hadn’t meant to compromise Lord Hythwick last summer. She’d been too foolish to consider the risk involved, and she still was. “Women habitually use their sensual powers to gain their own ends. Why wouldn’t you?”

She shook her head, and her eyes filled with what looked like pain. She clutched her stomach and swallowed visibly. For a moment, he wondered if she would be sick.

“My turn to apologize,” he said, more or less meaning it. He didn’t want to believe her, but it was damned difficult not to. He had to get rid of her before he did something he would regret. He rose, crossed to the dressing table, and chose a fresh cravat. “I beg your pardon, but I must dress, or I shall be late for the party.”

She rose as well. In the mirror he watched as she swallowed again, seemingly once more in control, but the misery still dwelt in her eyes. He grimaced at the mirror, exasperated with both her and himself. “You need concern yourself no longer. I shall retrieve the Book of Hours for you.”

Her brows knit and her eyes challenged his in the mirror. “Why should you? My missing book is not your problem.”

He avoided her gaze, concentrating on the cravat. What was it about eyes meeting in a mirror that was more painful than face to face? “No, but I cannot let you attempt to retrieve it. It is not safe.”

“I have a gun. I am not afraid to use it.”

That was precisely what worried him. He finished knotting the cravat and turned. “So I noticed, but shooting Hythwick, however appealing, will cause more problems than it solves. It certainly will not help you get the book.” He grabbed his coat, stuck his head out the door, and beckoned to Sophie, who was eavesdropping shamelessly in the corridor. She came in to assist with his coat.

“I wouldn’t shoot him,” Gloriana said. “I would merely threaten him.”

“And what if he tried to grab the pistol, and it went off?” he demanded. Sophie helped him tug the coat on and straightened it across his shoulders and chest. “Worse, what if he succeeded in disarming you?”

“Philippe is right,” Sophie said. “You must not take such a risk.” She passed him a handkerchief, his watch on its fob, and a couple of rings. “And you, mon cher, must get yourself a new valet.”

Philippe nodded, thankful for her attempt to change the subject. He hadn’t found a permanent replacement since the death of his valet several months before. First, he’d had to fulfill a promise to recover certain stolen items, and lately, far worse troubles had led to giving up his lodgings and moving in with Sophie.

“My servants have not the skills a man of fashion requires,” Sophie said.

“And it is much additional work for them, I am aware.” He snatched a small purse from the dressing table and donned his shoes. “I must go.”

Gloriana took a deep breath and placed herself in his way. Perhaps she thought this stance made her seem determined. All it did was distract him. He averted his eyes from her bosom as it rose. As it fell.

“I repeat, my missing book is not your problem,” she said. “Do not attempt to retrieve it.”

He took refuge in offense. “You don’t trust me. How foolish of me to imagine you might do so.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean that! Please don’t try to find my book.”

“I shall do as I wish. Do not attempt to contact me again.”

“I forbid you to find my Book of Hours!” she cried.

He left while she was still speaking, tossing a few words back up the stairs to his sister. "See that our guest is returned safely back to Town.” The front door slammed firmly behind him.

~ ~ ~

Damnation! What was she to do now?

“How rude of Philippe to walk out like that, but one cannot blame him.” Sophie picked up the tea tray and headed for the stairs. “Come. We shall be more comfortable in the drawing room.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that he wouldn’t return the book to me,” Gloriana protested.

“Perhaps not, but my brother is easily wounded.”