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“If you think I’m going to allow you to walk the street by yourself, you’re addled. I’m not so much a rogue.”
“I’m an expert in slipping through shadows. I was as silent as a shade on my way here. I can’t just stroll down the street on your arm, what if someone sees us? I’d be compromised.”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, but I’d say you’re already compromised.”
“Yes, but no one knows about it except us. I’m not going to tell anyone, are you?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then it’s all settled. I allow you to escort me home, from a distance, and in return, you allow me to interview your servants and help search for clues.”
That smile. Warmer than a jug of heated brandy and even more potent.
He wanted to keep touching her. Fit her body against his. Show her that he still had all of the skills of a wicked rake...
Blow to the skull.
That was the only possible explanation for why he was agreeing to let her search his house and interview his servants.
That, and she’d talked circles around him. Strong-armed him with those slender arms of hers, twisted him around her tiny finger.
He was all in knots.
He’d agreed because they had a shared goal—they both wanted to find Rafe—and MissPenny was liable to do something reckless in her pursuit of the truth.
Or perhaps he’d agreed to her demands because he wanted to see her again.
Closer to the truth.
She was standing right across from him and he already missed her smile, her spark, that wicked wit.
“It’s time I found more clothing, and escorted you home, MissPenny,” he said gruffly.
Chapter12
Drew walked the street, whistling softly. Just a duke on a stroll in the wee hours of a London morn, admiring the faintest pearl sheen of dawn over the rooftops.
Pretending there wasn’t a meddling debutante creeping through the hedges and shadows at his flank.
This area of Mayfair wasn’t exactly dangerous, being patrolled by night watchmen and populated with stately mansions locked up tight behind tall iron gates, but he hadn’t felt easy about letting her leave alone.
For all her bravado, breaking and entering, and analyzing of handwriting, she was still a respectable young lady. And despite his long-past amatory exploits, he was still a gentleman.
A stream of curses was unleashed not too far from him.
He chuckled. So much for slipping through the shadows undetected. MissPenny had a foul mouth on her. Where had she learned those expletives?
Going to investigate, he found her attempting to rip her cloak from the jaws of an emaciated, mangy street dog. “Let go of me you flea-bitten bull’s pizzle.”
Drew searched the bushes and came up with a large stick. “Here boy.” He waved the stick at the snarling dog.
The cur let go of Mina’s cloak and sniffed the stick. Drew threw the stick as far as he could down the street behind them and the dog ran off after it.
MissPenny shook out her cloak, examining a large tear in the fabric.
“That dog didn’t like you sneaking through its shrubbery.”
“I didn’t want to hurt the poor thing. It looked hungry.”
