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Ah, yes, for the simple fact that Minera had wished it so. Living in the shadows was not his cup of tea. Living in solitary for two days had already proven to be rather tiresome and extremely lonely. The two things he constantly worked hard to avoid.
The tap of Minerva’s toe brought his attention back to her. He smiled and said, “I would agree with Isadora that he could be a worthy opponent, but I also agree with Charlotte: the man is a chameleon. Hard to know who he really is.”
“Hmm…then tomorrow shall prove to be a rather interesting eve. I plan to escape from the Harmon Ball the following eve, and if our game moves as swiftly as tonight, I should be able to return without issue.” Minerva walked to the door.
He followed and held the door open for her. “Who’s to attend the Harmon event?”
As she passed over the threshold, she said, “Everyone.”
Everyone? The vague response raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
He peered out into the hall. Minerva was gone. He raced back to look out the front window. There were no vehicles in the street. How in the devil did the minx appear and disappear like magic?
Chapter Six
Skirts gripped tightlyin her hands and hiked above her ankles, Minerva raced out the back door. She nearly ran over Jack, who was sitting on the bottom stoop waiting for her. Thankfully, the footman popped up and stood to attention.
“Let’s be off.” Minerva slowed her pace once she entered the back alley. What a fool she had been to attempt to goad Anthony into action with jealousy. The tactic had already proven ineffective once before. And yet his calm response to her dining with Lord Camdon, who was reportedly both dashing and extremely blessed with a sharp mind, set her blood on fire. Embarrassment roared through her veins. Anthony hadn’t issued the challenge because he wanted to marry her; it was simply to avoid banishment. What a ninny she was to believe the kiss, the kiss that had her lying awake all night, meant something to him.
Argh. The man was insufferable.
Jack lengthened his stride and stepped up to walk alongside her. “My lady…is everythin’ all right? Should we alter our plans for the rest of the evening?” He glanced over his shoulder and then back to her. “Perhaps it’s best if we return…”
“No. The plan remains the same.” Minerva tugged her cloak tighter about her shoulders, warding off the nonexistent chill in the air. She hastened her steps, ready to complete the next task on her list for the evening—secure her own private lodgings for the Season.
While her feet were moving forward, her mind remained focused on Anthony. She shouldn’t have given in to temptation the other night. He regretted their kiss. He must, or he would have kissed her again when he had helped her with her cloak.
Her heels struck the pavement as the bitter taste of rejection settled in. “Let’s locate a hack and proceed to our meeting.” She squeezed the material clutched at her chest. Sneaking about Town wasn’t what had her worried; it was the man whom she intended to meet. A man who had the ability to threaten the success of her plans—Mr. Wembley. The shrewd man managed a great number of properties around Town, including the quarters above the playhouse Minerva wished to let for a year.
“Are you certain Mr. Wembley can be trusted?”
Her footman’s concern mirrored her own. Isadora’s dealings with Mr. Wembley in the past proved he wasn’t the most trustworthy man. She shook her head. “I have no choice but to trust the man. I’ll admit that Mr. Wembley does pose the greatest threat to my plans for the Season. I can only hope that the man continues to be driven by greed and not sense.” She had agreed to pay the man double the letting fee in order to buy his silence.
No one could find out she intended to spend an entire Season as her alter ego Madame Rose. The only person privy to her true plans was Jack, and she trusted him with her life daily. Her family believed she was to act as companion to dear old Aunt Adelaide, who was journeying across the pond. Minerva didn’t in fact wish to leave England and venture so far away, and since Aunt Adelaide already secretly had a companion, her aunt had been more than happy to go along with the ruse.
They exited the alley, and Jack put his fingers to his mouth. The loud whistle caught the attention of a hansom driver down the street. As the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of them, Jack said, “Lady Minerva, it’s not too late to change your mind.”
It had taken years to train Jack to speak his mind, and he’d proven to be an excellent judge of character, possessing knowledge beyond her gilded cage that had proven invaluable many times. “My mind is set. Let’s be off.”
Jack shook his head as he assisted her up into the hack. Alone, Minerva closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window.
The image of Anthony appeared like always when she closed her eyes. Why could she not simply stop caring for the blasted man? Her dreams of his returning her regard after all these years should well and truly be dead. Yet they unrelentingly lingered.
The man who had captured her heart as a young teen was a rogue. According to Benedict, Anthony was no stranger to kissing women. Yet he hadn’t attempted to kiss her again. Which told her their kiss the other night meant nothing to him, while it had certainly meant something to her. She wanted to forget the soul-awakening kiss after having lost far too many hours of sleep reimagining the man’s lips upon hers. Why was her heart so stubborn?
She released the captured breath and sat back to peer out the foggy window. Finishing their chess match post haste was the best plan moving forward. It was time for her to focus on her own future. She would assume her alter ego’s identity.
Minerva’s lips curved into a smile. Becoming Madame Rose would allow her to shed all societal restriction of being a lady for an entire Season. One Season of adventure. One Season as someone the complete opposite of the Ice Queen. Yes, one Season, and then she’d return to her staid life as a spinster and hopefully become the favored aunt to her siblings’ children, much like Aunt Adelaide had been to her.
Anthony’s image appeared in the glass, haunting her. He was the only man she wanted to marry. For three Seasons she had tried to entertain the idea of marrying another. But with her mind bored with trivial conversations and the lack of fluttering in her chest, Minerva had given up hope. She resolved to never marry, but she wanted one extravagant adventure for herself. Planning such an elaborate charade had been her only salvation the past few years.
She should be both excited and pleased with her progress, yet her chess match with Anthony was a distraction. All the years of gathering the right contacts and planning were all coming together. She was going to live a life she had longed for. Not bound by societal rules of theton. Free to explore.
No more pining. It was time for action.
Refocused on her mission, she peered out the window again. They were no longer on the outskirts of Mayfair. Her breath caught in her chest and her palms began to sweat. Would she be able to manage on her own? Having lived under her father’s roof, protected by Benedict and surrounded by staff and family, Minerva found the idea of living alone had a certain appeal.
Alone. Anthony’s two days of isolation had resulted in the man peering out the window like a hound waiting for its master to return. Only Anthony hadn’t greeted her with as much enthusiasm as what her dogs did.
