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Jack smiled as he walked up to Lady Stanhope’s front door to escort her to the musicale. So far, everything was falling into place. His attempt at befriending her landed him a beautiful companion for the evening, something he figured would never happen so quickly. Somehow, he had to keep the momentum continuing forward. He could already see her longing to trust him. That would only make this easier.

“Good evening, Mr. Raynerson. Lady Stanhope is expecting you,” her butler said as he opened the large black door.

“Thank you...”

“Roberts, sir.”

“Thank you, Mr. Roberts.”

“Please follow me,” Roberts said as he walked toward the receiving salon.

Jack entered the room and his breath rushed out of him. “Good evening, Lady Stanhope,” he said with a quick bow. Glancing over at her, he hurried to get his lust under control at the sight of Lady Stanhope in a pale blue gown cut daringly low. He wondered if the effect was for him. Dear God, he hoped so.

“Good evening, Mr. Raynerson.” She rose from the chair by the fireplace in slow motion. “Would you like a glass of sherry or brandy before we depart?”

“Brandy, please,” he replied before moving toward her position. “I believe we both might need something to fortify us before we are forced to embark on this musical adventure.”

She chuckled as she turned to pour a snifter of brandy for them both. “Tell me,” she said as she faced him. “If you don’t wish to attend this musicale, why do you not come up with an excuse your godfather would believe?” She handed him his glass and then sipped her brandy.

He stared at her for a long moment before slowly smiling. “Because it provided a way to get you alone for a few minutes to and from the event.”

She attempted to hide a smile but her blush was unmistakable. “Highly scandalous of you, Mr. Raynerson.”

“Hardly.” Damn, why had he said he would have a brandy? Could she have slipped some poison in his glass? Now, in order to be polite, he would have to take a sip. At least with the tea yesterday, he’d been able to watch her every move while she fixed it. Perhaps one small sip would not hurt. He took a taste of the brandy and let the smoky essence fill his mouth before swallowing. “Excellent brandy, Lady Stanhope.”

“Thank you. My late husband believed in only the best of spirits.” She finally returned to her seat, allowing him to take the chair across from her.

“And the best in wives,” he muttered softly. He wasn’t certain she had even heard him until he noticed her cheeks darken again. For a woman thrice married, she acted exceedingly innocent. He wondered if it was an act. She had only been married a few weeks in total making him wonder at her experience in the bedroom. Perhaps there were a few things he could still teach her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Did you love him?” Damn, it was far too soon to ask such a question but the words had burst out of his mouth before he could stop them.

She looked down at her brandy and slowly turned the glass in her hand. “I liked him very much, but I did not love him. I do believe I might have come to love him in time.”

“Then why did you marry him?”

She continued to stare at the glass in her hand. After a long moment, she whispered, “For my sisters. They deserved a better life.”

“At the sacrifice of your own happiness?” Seeing her scowl, he again regretted the words he’d blurted out. Around her, he seemed to have no control over his own mouth.

“Yes. At least they would have the chance of finding a man they could love and who would love them in return.” She rose and walked to the windows. “They deserved that.”

“As do you,” he said softly.

“Well, I would have that chance now if it weren’t for the fact that most people consider me a murderess who hasn’t been caught yet.” She pulled back the velvet curtain and glanced out at the street. “Perhaps we should leave now.”

“Of course.” He placed the almost full snifter of brandy on the table. Damn, he had truly botched this conversation. He walked closer to her until she turned to face him. “Forgive me for upsetting you, my lady,” he said before picking up her bare hand and kissing her delicate knuckles.

She stared at him as he lifted his head. Her pink lips parted slightly as if she had just released a small sigh. Jack tamped down the urge to move his lips to hers. It was far too soon for that.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She only nodded, still staring at his mouth.

“We should be off then.” He held out his arm for her.

“I must get my gloves.” She ignored his arm and picked up her gloves from the table. After sliding them on, she said, “Now I am ready.”

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