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Mrs. McGee tsked her tongue. “You leave him be. He is for Lady Ravenscroft, and if you don’t mind the warning, I’ll see you sacked.” She smiled at Hawk. “Perhaps you will wed her by Twelfth Night? I would be happy to make a special cake for the occasion.”
Bloody hell.
This pretend engagement was rapidly growing out of hand. He hadn’t anticipated that people might be hurt from the play acting. Where he’d only wished to protect Belle from her brother-in-law, he now realized the lie was spreading. And this simple request on his part that would eventually make Belle smile had now become a grand undertaking from a good portion of the staff.
What kind of man would do this merely to see a woman smile?Damnation, but I’m sinking too deep.Quickly, he scrambled to his feet. “On second thought, I don’t wish to put any of you good people out and—”
“Sit down, Captain,” the butler intoned with a palm raised. “The staff here would do anything for Lady Ravenscroft. Most of us remember when she used to have happiness in her eyes, and now that we have seen traces of that again since your arrival, I would be honored to help teach you how to dance.”
“Ah. Thank you.” As the strength leeched from his bones, he sat hard on his previously abandoned chair. He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “I fear this won’t be enough of a gift for her, and I have nothing else…”
At least not here. Going back to London in order to access his account at the Bank of London would take too long, as would shopping on Bond Street. The coin he had left after paying the rent on his rooms in the village wouldn’t buy anything she might be used to.
Unless he found that treasure.
Damn.He hadn’t thought the ruse through properly. Surely a Christmas gift didn’t signify more than a casual tryst.
And if it did, was that something he wanted while he still had ties with the Home Office? Being close to anyone might put them in danger.
“Put that worry from your mind, Captain Hawkins,” Mrs. Peters said with a mysterious grin. “I will talk to the maids and put together something for you by Christmas Eve.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you.”
Belle sat curled in the leather chair behind her husband’s desk in his study. Very rarely did anyone enter the room, and it was the one place she could go where no one would interrupt her when she wished to be alone. She clutched her shawl about her shoulders as she stared out the window where anemic sunlight tried to break through rain-swollen clouds.
She’d hidden there after taking breakfast in her room in an effort to avoid Hawk. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed at what they’d done the day before and she certainly wasn’t ashamed. Coupling with him had exceeded her wildest expectations, and where she’d thought it would have cleared the urges and naughty thoughts, it only enhanced them, made her want him more.
And that terrified her.
The last thing she needed was to have her heart engaged again, to willingly give it away only to have it crushed if something unforeseen happened. Perhaps that meant she wasn’t truly living in a fulfilled way, but that pain wasn’t easily forgotten, and neither was grief. Losing Laurence had hurt, but she suspected if she allowed herself to care for Hawk—even love him—and if she lost him, the agony following would see her lost.
All of those musings had thrown her into confusion, and because of that, she’d taken refuge in Laurence’s study, where it smelled of the oils the servants used to polish the wood, as well as leather and the faint, clinging aroma of the cheroots her husband had occasionally indulged in.
To say nothing of the fact she was also avoiding her brother-in-law. There were times when Philip made her skin crawl, and she didn’t know why. Until she could discover the reason, it was best to circumvent an argument.
Mathieu jumped onto the desk with a decided meow.
She smiled and gave him a few scratches beneath the chin. “This would have been a perfect place to hide a clue to treasure.” Except that it was in the manor, and the first one specifically said removed from the house.
When the cat sat upright with his four paws perfectly aligned and his tail wrapped about them while staring at her with his unblinking eyes, she sighed. “What?” The feline said nothing. “You think I’m being silly for not wishing to speak with Hawk.”
His only answer was to flick his whiskers.
“The last time I fell for a man, that relationship was somewhat less than what I thought it would be.” Yet even as she spoke the words, an image of Hawk came into her mind. He had already shown himself different than her husband had been. After only days of knowing her, the captain had made certain he could be close enough to protect her, even if that meant concocting a false engagement. When presented with the same scenario, what would Laurence have done? “Is that something I should let myself pursue a second time?”
Mathieu meowed softly.
“But I might be hurt.”
The cat sneezed but then stared at her as if it were her fault.
Belle sighed. “You think I am living a half-life by keeping myself—and my heart—safe.”
Mathieu swished his tail.
“I am not certain I’m strong enough, though. Sharing anything with Hawk besides a tryst means so much uncertainty.” And talking to her cat wasn’t exactly the hallmarks of a sound mind. “He is a spy, Mathieu. For the Home Office. I rather doubt he’s the marrying kind.”
This time the cat’s meow was more forceful.
