Page 47 of The Redemption of the Shrew

“I shan’t,” she had said firmly. So far, so good—as long as she continued to do as she was told.

Now, at the ball, Freddy Barnham was also playing his part well. He lounged against a nearby wall, glowering. The two ladies glanced at him and then at Philippe and Marianne, tittering. They drifted past, feigning disinterest.

“It is the greatest of pleasures to tutor such a lovely lady in the language of my country,” Philippe said. “Let me know if any of the argot in the poems confuses you.” Once the gossips were out of earshot, he added, “And please make sure Gloriana has no opportunity to try searching for the book herself.”

“I shall.” Marianne smiled sweetly and tripped away.

He avoided her for the rest of the evening, for it would not do to rouse Hythwick’s ire just yet. He avoided Gloriana, too, but that didn’t stop him from propping up a wall, doing his best not to glower like Freddy, while the despicable earl danced with her.

~ ~ ~

Gloriana continued to avoid Philippe for the next several days, even going to the extent of crossing the street and diving into a millinery shop when she spied him on a big black gelding, and later clambering hurriedly into a hackney when she would have preferred to walk. Out of sight, out of mind, or so she hoped. She’d kept her feelings for him alive for five years. Perhaps if she crushed them for the next five, they would cease to exist.

“Come have coffee with me,” Sophie beckoned from her doorstep later that week. Gloriana had no choice but to agree. She didn’t intend to forgo friendship with Sophie just because she was eternally at odds with Philippe.

“Thank you, I’d like that,” she said, crossing the threshold, “unless your brother is here—”

Sophie motioned her into the drawing room. “He wishes a word with you. I shall see about the coffee.” She shut the door behind her, and Gloriana found herself face to face with Philippe.

“Don’t blame my sister.” He was leaning against the mantelpiece, warming himself by the fire. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

She glowered at him. “Because I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Then don’t, just listen to what I have to say. Sophie made me promise to get it over with quickly and let her enjoy your company.”

“Get what over with?”

“My . . . confession.”

Confession? “What, you’re a murderer as well as a thief?” Immediately, she regretted such unkind words.

He scowled. “So far, I have only killed in defense of myself or others, but one of these days I may strangle you. I know perfectly well why you suddenly became bosom bows with Marianne Delfin. Enough, Gloriana!”

“How dare you interfere with my friendship?” She flung away from him and went to the window, fists clenched, for if she faced him, she might shriek at him. “You are insufferable!”

“I do not question your friendship, but the reason for it. You wish to gain access to Hythwick House and search for the book.”

She didn’t answer, for to deny this would be a lie. She didn’t want to lie anymore, but she had to find the book. She watched two sparrows as they fluttered and hopped along the pavement, and tried to think what to say.

“You will not succeed, and more than likely, you will put yourself in danger again. Can you not see that Lord Hythwick still has designs on you?”

This horrid thought had occurred to her while dancing with Hythwick, but she wasn’t about to admit to Philippe that it worried her. She turned away from the window, saying airily, “Perhaps he does, but I shall be careful not to find myself alone with him.”

“Mordieu,” he uttered. “Quelle folie! Stop looking for ways to get the damned book back and leave it to me!”

“Why should I? You owe me nothing.”

“True, and I should be glad to leave it that way, but I cannot.”

“Why not?” She stormed to the window again. Why couldn’t he just leave her be? The sparrows had moved on, but she couldn’t unless he got out of her way. “My book is none of your business.”

“No, but my freedom is.”

“Your freedom?” She faced him again, confused now.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Hythwick risked a scandal if he accused me of attacking him, so he found another way to revenge himself. He has denounced me to the government as a French spy.”

She gaped at him. “What?”