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“Just be glad you did not have that blade turned upon you.”
She frowned. The man clearly thought her truly useless. “I can stand up for myself you know.”
She squared her shoulders. Her feelings for Blake were not going to weaken her. She wouldn’t let them. And she would not let him bully her into giving up gambling. For the first time in a long time she felt useful and, well, excited by life. It was an unusual sensation.
His smile slanted. “I think my face would prefer you did not do that in future.”
“That only happened because you got in my way!”
“Because you needed rescuing.”
“I did not need—” She huffed out a breath and closed her eyes briefly when she spied Chastity waddling over to join her sister and aunt, then saying something about how handsome they looked together.
“Can we do this elsewhere?” she pleaded. “People are talking about us.”
He followed her gaze, then peered at her. “They are?”
She nodded.
Blake’s brow furrowed then his eyes widened. “Ah. You read lips.”
“Well, yes,” she mumbled, tugging the edge of a fern leaf between her fingers and smoothing her fingertips down it. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about her hearing loss and how it still impacted her to this day. She already looked fool enough in front of him as it was.
“Shall we take a stroll about the gardens?”
She looked to the open doors. So long as they remained in sight of the windows, no one would think poorly of them or leap to conclusion—unless one counted Aunt Sarah of course, who could be guaranteed to practically fly to the nearest scandalous conclusion. But at least they would not see her blushing and simpering like a debutante.
“Yes. Let us take a stroll.”
“And you can tell me everything,” he reminded her.
“Yes,” she lied softly. “I’ll tell you everything.”
***
The air was scented with hyacinths and the elegant and vast gardens of the assembly rooms were lit with more lanterns than Vauxhall, leaving few shady spots for illicit liaisons.
Blake wouldn’t be impressed by lack of opportunity to get to know a lady better usually but he rather appreciated it today. Lady Demeter was a far cry from the usual women he associated with, not least because she wielded a knife and disguised herself as a boy.
Plenty gossiped of her status as a spinster and lack of prospects despite her rank, and he had to conclude her to be an innocent. Usually he’d assume someone of her breeding to protect her reputation most fiercely but what he had seen the other night flung those assumptions aside. A woman worried for her reputation did not enter gaming hells, alone, and in disguise.
However, the naïve air about her didn’t fade with that knowledge. It could be her slender frame or the perpetual blush on her cheeks. Whatever it was, he’d wager she was new to being daring, and he’d be a fool to get himself too entangled with her, no matter how sweet and pink her lips were or how he felt the warmth from their dancing penetrate the cool spring air, reaching its fingers out to him as if to lure him in.
Come touch me, it said.Come feel the warmth properly. Feel my softness and draw me close.
He gritted his teeth and gestured to a stone bench tucked against a fortress of carefully rounded box trees. She sat, slowly and reluctantly and he heard her sigh. She did not confess as easily as anticipated. In fact, she fought him at every moment, despite them both knowing the truth of her actions. He’d envisaged pleading, a few tears perhaps. Instead, she offered arguments as to her capabilities with a dagger.
He couldn’t help himself. Lady Demeter Fallon had him intrigued.
“What do you want to know?” she asked, tugging one glove from her hand, then the other, laying them carefully out upon her lap and flexing her fingers. He eyed the long, slender digits and shook away any thought of how they might feel against his skin.
“Why were you at Pidgeon’s?”
“To play cards, of course.”
“Of course,” he mimicked. “Except you could play cards at any dinner party or with friends.”
“Not for coin I cannot.”
