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“No,” he heard himself reply. “I’m just not certain how to respond. I enjoy women. They enjoy me. But I have rules—rules I abide by. I’m straightforward in my pursuit. I don’t undermine existing relationships nor prey upon vulnerability. Does that make me a womanizer? I think not.” He leaned a bit closer. “What do you think?”
Noelle’s breath caught, then released in a rush—and Ashford gritted his teeth as the warm puff of air grazed his lips. “I haven’t enough experience to make that judgment,” she managed.
“Nor will you acquire any.” Grace surged to life, her head coming up, her plump cheeks suffused with color. “Really, Lord Tremlett, this topic of conversation is utterly—”
“I apologize,” Ashford interrupted, addressing Grace yet never taking his eyes off Noelle. “I meant no disrespect.”
“None was taken,” Noelle assured him. She eased back in her seat, clearly preparing to steer the discussion in a less provocative direction. “With regard to our bargain, my lord, I’ve told you what prompted my question. It’s time for you to answer it.”
“Indeed.” Ashford was completely astounded by the pull that existed between Lady Noelle Bromleigh and himself—the very magnitude of which was unprecedented in his vast realm of experience. It was a palpable entity that took every ounce of his strength to resist.
But resistance was essential—for now.
“Here’s your answer, then,” he supplied. “Baricci is afraid of me because I’m a disruption. When I visit his gallery, I generally ask a lot of unpleasant questions. This time was no exception. A valuable painting was recently stolen. I’m investigating the matter for Lloyds.”
Noelle’s eyes widened. “And Mr. Baricci was involved in this theft?”
“I didn’t say that,” Ashford refuted, now scrutinizing her for an entirely different reason. “But the painting was originally auctioned off at the Franco Gallery. So I needed some background information.”
“I see.” Noelle’s expression was the epitome of unfeigned innocence. Ashford would stake his life on the fact that she hadn’t a clue where Moonlight in Florence was or who was behind its theft.
Then why the hell had she visited Baricci?
As if reading his mind, Noelle continued of her own accord. “Several valuable paintings have disappeared recently, according to what I’ve read in the newspapers.”
Ashford tensed. “Yes, they have.”
“Do you believe the thefts are related?”
“It’s quite possible.” He waited, wondering where she was headed and why. Was she merely expressing her own charming brand of curiosity or was she pumping him for information—information she planned to pass on to Baricci? The latter was highly unlikely. Still, he had to be sure.
Noelle’s brow furrowed in thought, and Ashford leaned forward, eager to hear her response.
It was Grace who responded.
“We’ve arrived at the station,” she barked, peering out the window.
Dammit, Ashford swore silently. I’ve run out of time.
There was only one thing left to do.
“You’re neither an artist nor a dealer. So what possible business could you have with Franco Baricci?” he demanded, resorting to his last hope: the element of surprise.
Plainly, it worked, for Noelle started, her pupils dilating before her lashes drifted to her cheeks, veiling her magnificent eyes. “You don’t mince words, do you, my lord?” She twisted her hands in the folds of her mantle, awkwardly weighing her words. “My business with Mr. Baricci was personal in nature,” she said at last. “I’m not comfortable discussing the details with a stranger.”
“After today, I didn’t think we were strangers.”
Her lashes lifted, and a tiny smile curved her lips. “Perhaps not. But we’re hardly friends either.”
“I’d like to change that,” he said quietly as the carriage rolled up to the station and stopped.
“Why? Because of your interest in Mr. Baricci?”
“No. Because of my interest in you.”
A charged silence, during which Ashford’s driver came around and opened the door. “Waterloo Station,” he announced, offering a hand to the ladies.
Fortunately, Grace was seated closer to the door. With a disapproving scowl at Lady Noelle, she accepted the driver’s assistance and descended to the street.
