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Sound rumbled deep in his chest. “I shall give your father my pocket square when I return with you to the party.”
Her gasp filled the room and he tamped down a chuckle. “Return with me? Oh no, that is quite unnecessary. I couldn’t put you out like that.”
“Oh but you must. How else will you explain your burnt skirts?” He had to hide his grin as he felt her shiver. It was almost cruel the way he trapped her in her own little web of falsehoods. What would he do with her when he had her? His body hardened just considering the possibilities.
But then something even more miraculous happened. She squared her shoulders as she cleared her throat. “I will just say I was walking in the halls when a candle tipped over.”
His eyebrows rose. His little mouse was escaping. That wouldn’t do. “You are quite adept at making up stories in the moment. Well done.”
“Oh,” she gasped as she bunched up his shirt.
A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his throat. She understood his double meaning perfectly. He’d been talking about the lie she was planning and the ones she had just told. He gave her credit, she was intelligent. It was impressive. And quite honestly, he enjoyed the feel of her hands twined into his clothes.
Since he’d been alone in his room, he’d discarded his coat and vest. A decision he was most pleased with now. The crush of her breasts was far more pleasant with less fabric between them. He wondered what they would feel like without her corset and dress. Every muscle in his body clenched at the thought. “But to make it more believable, I will come with you. Say I found you on fire and put it out, which is true. All lies need an element of truth to be believable.”
Her mouth open and close several times. “You need not trouble yourself on my account. My burnt dress is all the truth I need.”
“No trouble at all.” He stepped back to let her go. Honestly, he would have preferred to keep her in his arms. Perhaps the entirety of the night. But she was an unwed lady and though his reputation was that of a drunken, gambling, thieving rake, he was actually none of those things. Well perhaps he dallied with a few more ladies than was respectable, but not ones like Lady Rose. He would assume for the moment, she was innocent, despite the fact that she’d been searching his room in the dark of night. He stayed away from innocents and kept his attention on women such as widows and light skirts. And so he’d do the proper thing now.
She wobbled at the loss of his hands and he reached out to grab her waist again. She clutched them, and took several steadying breaths. “My apologies. I suppose catching on fire has made me a bit shaky.”
A chuckle bubbled from his chest at her pluck. “I can see how that might be true. I haven’t been set to flame of late but it did happen to me once and I had to sit for several minutes. You are doing quite well.”
“Were you burned?” She looked up at him again, her large eyes luminous in the moonlight. Was it the shadows or were her cheekbones really that pleasing? He knew for certain the swell of her bosom was no nighttime trick but real and stunning.
Without intending to, he pulled her closer again. She fit against him quite well, her supple curves fitting into all the hollows of his body. “I bear a small scar.”
“Where?” Her eyes gave him a sweep as though she might uncover the mark if she checked.
He grinned. “On my hip.” If she’d been someone else, he might have asked her if she wanted to see it. But he had another mission now. He had to stop admiring her finer qualities and figure out what this little chit was up to. Still, discussing his bare hip had its advantages. A blush heated her cheeks, turning them a lovely shade of pink in the moonlight. She was not a woman who had seen or discussed men’s pelvises. She was likely innocent.
“Thankfully for me, you put the flames out in time.” Drawing in a deep breath, she stepped back. It was rather delightful. He could almost see her pulling her wits about her despite his attempts to unsettle her. “But truly, I do not need you to return with me to the party. If you could perhaps notify my father privately that I won’t be returning so that he might make my excuses. And no need to give him your pocket square, I’m sure he can do without one.”
Then she turned and crossed the room. The door clicked open and then closed again. She left as mysteriously as she’d come. And while he hadn’t gotten the answers he’d wanted out of her, he learned a great deal. And now, he had a new mystery to solve. A beautiful little riddle.
Rose leaned against the wall as she closed her eyes and attempted to catch her breath. How had her attempt at finding the stolen jewels gone so wrong?
First, Lord Addington wasn’t supposed to be there. Lady Mildred had informed her she’d seen him sneak off into the garden with an unknown lady. Clearly Millie needed a new pair of spectacles. Secondly, she should have had a ready excuse if caught, information she would remember for next time.
Third, she hadn’t planned to light her clothing on fire, nor had she expected his light touch to spark such heat within her. He had muddled her already confounded mind.
And he’d been so at ease. He didn’t seem the least flustered by her presence. Did he have lady guests often? His reputation suggested that he did. And despite being a thief and penniless, she saw his appeal. She’d felt it, deep inside.
What was more, he’d tested her, trying to play with her. His intelligence and cunning completely evident. So she’d learned something valuable too. She doubted very much he was an innocent victim in all of this. She’d found the right path to lead her to mother’s jewels.
Pushing herself off the wall, she made her way to her room. She didn’t ring for her maid, choosing to light the candles herself and then removed her ruined dress. She sighed as she held it up for inspection. She’d liked blue silk gown with a lace overlay. It had been one of her favorites.
Her maid would have questions about where the dress had gone but she’d have to dispose of it without her knowledge. A missing dress was far better than a burned one. Ann was a lovely girl, but prone to gossiping, especially in a house full of unknown servants. Her father knowing she’d caught fire would be bad enough.
She began to undo her corset when a knock sounded at her door.
“Rose,” her father called. “Are you all right?”
She took a steadying breath, feeling for a moment like a child about to be caught telling a lie. “Fine, Papa,” she replied.
“Are you burned?” The concern in his voice made her wince in guilt. She’d worried him with her antics. He would never approve if he knew she was trying to track down the jewels. An already protective father, he’s become more so after the loss of her mother last year to consumption. She put on her dressing gown, moved to the door, then opened it to allow her father in.
The moment it opened, his concerned eyes travelled up and down her. Though greying, her father was still a handsome man, tall and lean. She missed her mother dearly, and no one would ever replace her, but more and more often, she wished her father would find a woman to make him happy. Not only would it be good for him but Rose would marry soon, provided her reputation was not entirely destroyed while she searched for the diamonds, and she hated to think of him alone.
