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“Then we shall say no more about it.”
Satisfied she had done all she could, Ria leaned against the squab. Only to sit upright once more. There was something else she could do. “Matthews?”
“Yes, madam.”
“I would like to make one stop on the way home. At the gunsmith’s.”
10
She should be dead!
Geoffrey watched in disbelief as Matthews assisted Ria into the carriage. Why wasn’t she dead?
Sheer rage rose within him, threatened to choke him. Just what would it take to make that bitch die?
He looked over at the inn. He couldn’t have made a mistake. Geoffrey swallowed hard to stem the rising tide of nausea. He put the poison in the right decanter. He knew he did! She can’t have drunk it!
What should he do? Leave the ratafia or risk going and getting it?
Damnation, he’d wasted a guinea! Cursing, he walked back toward the inn.
This would have been so much e
asier if he could have gotten into St. James Manor without being seen. He used to be able to, but these days he couldn’t step foot on the estate without some nosy servant appearing. This trip to town was the first chance he’d had to get near her.
Quietly Geoffrey opened the private parlor door. The blond maid was the only occupant of the room. She lay on the floor, writhing. From the doorway he could hear her gasping for breath.
Gently he closed the door, then walked over to her. She was choking and clutching at her throat. As he bent over her body, she looked up at him, her eyes beseeching him for help. With a smile he plucked his guinea from her bodice and tucked it into his pocket. At least he had this back.
Geoffrey strolled over to the table. The doxy had obviously been picking at the remains of the meal. A piece of cheese and an empty glass stood next to the almost full decanter of ratafia. It looked like only one glass had been drunk. By the maid.
He wasn’t concerned. No one was going to ask questions about the death of a bird-witted servant. Though just to be sure, he picked up the chunk of cheese and carelessly dropped it on the floor near her body. No doubt they’d assume she choked on it—and probably think it served the thief right.
Geoffrey picked up the decanter and the glass the maid had drunk from. Without a backward glance at the now-silent woman, he walked from the room, taking the evidence with him.
As Luc watched Ria’s carriage roll down the street, he thought about the wheel linchpin. How had it come loose without her coachman noticing? His jaw clenched. If the wheel had come off, she could have been injured, even killed.
To his surprise, the carriage came to a stop a short distance down the street. Ria disembarked and entered the gunsmith’s. A short while later, she left carrying a package.
Strolling to the shop, he saw the pistol he’d pointed out to her was no longer in the window.
His gaze followed the carriage as it reached the end of the street and turned the corner. She had been trying to avoid him, so why now ask him to teach her to shoot? It must be important to her—although he was reasonably certain she had regretted asking him almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth. He grinned as he recalled the look of horror on her face when she realized what she’d done. Then, curiously, that had been followed by a look of determination.
Walking slowly back to the inn, he considered her puzzling actions. Her request was all the more surprising in view of his blunt invitation to have an affaire. He was not usually so direct, but the minx had put him off balance by asking if he was flirting with her. He must be losing his touch if she didn’t know. Then, to make it worse, she’d asked why.
Was she so very unaware of her considerable attractions? Buried in the country as she was, it was possible.
There was something about her… He would have to make damned sure she stayed in the country. He couldn’t risk any of the men in his circle seeing her. Look at Devon. Knowing full well Luc was interested, he still had taken the first available opportunity to flirt with her.
Had she thought about his offer? When he’d greeted her today at the gunsmith’s, the look in her eyes and her faint blush suggested she’d thought of little else. He smiled in satisfaction.
He had been very tempted to take their relationship a step further at the inn. The only thing that stopped him from at least kissing her was concern she would back out of tomorrow’s engagement. That was too good an opportunity to forego.
However, he was uncomfortably aware he’d been celibate too long. He ached to touch more of her skin than just her hand. Luc briefly closed his eyes at the visions that flooded his mind. With a grimace, he told himself that if the shooting lessons went as planned he’d only have to wait a few days more. Though he was coming to realize his lady was more complex than he’d realized.
He came to an abrupt halt. His lady.
Just when had he begun to think of her in such possessive terms? It had been so gradual, he’d not realized until this moment it was happening.
