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Three times? Dear God. The woman was either bold or insane. Maybe a little of both. And he liked that far too much.
“Will you do it again?”
She raised her chin. “If you do not give away my secret, then yes,” she said firmly. “I very much plan on returning.”
Blake ran a hand over his face. He could question her about her time there. See if she knew anything and then wash his hands of her. After all, it was up to her father or her brother to look after her, not him. He met her wide, pleading gaze and groaned inwardly.
“I will keep your secret,” he vowed. “But you will owe me.”
She nodded so eagerly he regretted his words, his instinct to use her to his advantage. His gut told him she would be useful to his investigation into his cousin, though he had not quite figured out how yet.
His gut also warned him he should not be getting further tangled with this woman—though he couldn’t figure out how this sweet but determined woman would cause him any trouble. Not yet anyway.
Chapter Seven
“A Mr. Blake to see you, my lady.”
Demeter froze mid cake slice and peered at the butler who offered no sign that this was anything unusual. To him, she supposed it was not, though the chances of any of them entertaining male visitors was slim. They had, admittedly, entertained several visitors this afternoon, which was to be expected, given it was the start of the Season, but few were of the male variety.
She caught her aunt and Eleanor share a look, then swiftly abandon their slices of cake on plates. They rose from the little cluster of chairs they’d tugged around the coffee table after her brother Anton and his wife left for the day.
It seemed it wasn’t going to be just the three of them after all.
“Where are you going?” Demeter grabbed Eleanor’s sleeve before she could escape.
Her sister offered a knowing smile. “You danced together last night. He’s hardly calling for me now, is he?”
She looked to Aunt Sarah. “Aunt?”
“I shall be in the next room. All entirely proper.”
Demeter frowned. As if Blake had ever done anything entirely proper in his whole life. Yes, she supposed there was something vaguely appealing about his protective attitude last night but that did not change anything. She recalled the slight alarm on his face when she’d admitted to attending the club several times already. If she hadn’t been fearful of him revealing her secret, she might have even liked that he worried for her.
“I do not think you should be encouraging this, Aunt,” Demeter said. “He’s a rake and everyone knows it.”
“I have an instinct about this man.” Aunt Sarah’s eyes gained a far-off look that Demeter recognized all too well.
“Oh no.” She shook her head vigorously. “You have no instincts about him at all. Mr. Blake has always been a rake and always will be, and I have no interest in him.”
“Yes, dear.”
“I do not,” she protested.
“I know.” Aunt Sarah patted the back of her hand. “Now brush the crumbs from your gown.” She leaned in and before Demeter realized what she was doing, her aunt gave her cheeks a pinch.
“Ouch!”
“Better.” Aunt Sarah looked to Eleanor who nodded.
“Better.”
Both family members scurried from the room and Demeter blew out a breath, eyed the slice of cake mournfully and patted her stomach. Later, she promised it. Later.
Before she had gathered herself, the butler returned with Blake. Demeter could not decide if she preferred him in his evening or day wear. The emerald green waistcoat flattered the slight tan of his skin and matched perfectly with his fawn trousers. A gold chain hung from one pocket, highlighting the gold embroidery of said waistcoat. His hessians gleamed and he looked entirely put together.
And she still had crumbs on the front of her gown.
She rose and tried to subtly flick one away but he caught sight of the movement and his lips quirked. Was it not enough that he already made her feel entirely at sea when around him? Did she also have to suffer the humiliation of looking as though she had been scarfing down cake like a half-starved waif? No matter that it was close to the truth.
