AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Um...” Chastity would scold her sisters for being so unprepared, but she had not stopped to think much further than pretending to be a widow. “I—”
“Go to Chester House,” the woman suggested softly. “They will have work for you, I am certain, and you will find their servant’s quarters quite comfortable.”
Chastity swallowed and nodded. The woman thought her to live on the streets or worse—to be lodging in a bawdy house somewhere. At least she did not realize she lived in the grandest house in London, she supposed.
However, it did not matter. She was no closer to helping her sister and she had little idea what to do next.
∞∞∞
Apparently Valentine had either died and become a ghost or was simply invisible to women. Head bowed, the woman barreled sightlessly into him as he rounded the corner of the house. He grabbed the woman’s arms instinctually, forcing her to take a step back and peer up at him.
“It’s you!” She gasped and ducked her head.
But not swiftly enough.
It would take more than a plain straw bonnet and a dull blue gown finished with a red neckerchief to distract from the bold sea-green eyes and full lips.
Sea-green, he had concluded. Most certainly. The color reminded him of days by the coast in Devon, peering out over the rocky cliffs and savoring the crashing waves and brisk sea air.
“What are you doing here?”
She kept her gaze to the ground while he gripped her arms. He did not dare give her quarter to escape. Which he had no doubt she would do the moment he released her. She could have no honest reason for being on the grounds of his house wearing clothes better suited to the working class.
“I was interviewing for a job, my lord,” she mumbled, the faintest hint of her cultured accent slipping through a vaguely Somerset tone.
“I very much doubt you have need of a job, Mrs. Whitaker.”
Her shoulders dropped and she lifted her gaze. “Very well. I came to...apologize for the other night.”
He smirked and released her slowly, much like one would tentatively liberate a recently tamed stallion. Though this woman had more wildness in her than any stallion, he reckoned.
Now he had made it clear her disguise could not fool him, she eyed him brazenly, as though he was the one in the wrong. Heaven forbid he be walking around the gardens of his own house while he mulled what he was to do about Julian’s death.
“Would you care to explain why you came to apologize in such a dress? And if you were indeed intending to speak with me, why you did not give your card to my butler?” He gestured to his right. “At the front of the house. Where guests usually tend to declare their arrival.”
“I—” Her gaze darted about the gardens drawing his attention to the vivid quality of the green shade of her eyes. Even the verdant green of the box trees behind her paled in comparison. “I changed my mind.” Her gaze clashed with his, daring him to challenge her.
Well, no doubt no one ever challenged her. He imagined even her late husband cowed to her will. Unfortunately for her, he didn’t cow to anyone, not even rich daughters of dukes with wild green eyes and enough curves to make a sculptor’s heart race.
“You decided to come all the way across London to apologize for running into me then changed your mind?”
“Yes! Exactly. It turns out I do not feel sorry at all.”
“That I do not doubt,” he said dryly. “It still does not explain the manner of dress.”
“I wanted to go unnoticed.”
“Because you are doing something you should not?”
Her chest rose and fell as she puffed out a breath. Valentine regretted noticing the movement. It had been far too long since he had lain with a woman and there was no doubting Chastity was the very definition of womanly. Even if she had hoped to hide her curves, no warm-blooded male could fail to take note of them.
Not to mention, there was something in the way that she moved. When she brushed a strand of hair back from her face, it was as though the movement was considered and deliberately—designed to draw attention to the heart shape of her face.
It might very well be. So he would have to treat this woman with caution. Whatever she wanted from him and whatever the reason for this preposterous disguise, he had no desire to get entangled in it.
“I am simply—”
He held up a hand. “No more lies.”
