An Inconvenient Arrangement: Rose Room Rogues ~ Book Three

by Callie Hutton

  Gads. The look he threw her almost brought up her breakfast. Perhaps she had overdone it. She only wanted to be granted access to him so she could hear his conversations, not encourage him to think there could ever be anything of an intimate nature between them.

  Before she could get in any deeper, she stood. The man hopped up, also. “I believe I have taken up enough of your time.”

  “Not at all, Miss Sanford.” He followed her as she turned and headed to the door, anxious to be away. He reached out and took her arm. “I should like you to accompany me to the theater one evening.” He raised her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss there. She wanted to rub her glove against her cape.

  When she didn’t answer, he added. “Thursday. I shall call at your home at seven o’clock.”

  Since it sounded more like an order than an invitation, she nodded. “Yes. That sounds most pleasant.”

  The young man who had shown her to his office stood outside the door. He bowed again. Then turning on his heel, he marched off, and Lydia followed.

  Oh, dear God. What had she gotten herself into? Dante would be furious. Perhaps she could beg off with a megrim. Which she probably would have by Thursday.

  Dante hopped from the carriage the minute he saw Lydia exit the building. She hurried up to him and gave him a strange smile.

  “What did he say to you? Did he touch you?” he growled. “I’ll go back in there—”

  Lydia grabbed his arm and they climbed into the carriage. “Nothing bad happened. It’s all fine.”

  The carriage began to move forward, and he straightened his jacket and glared at her. “Why do I have the feeling you’re hiding something?”

  She sighed and looked out the window. “The Ambassador was very gracious and accepted the apology I offered. At least I think he did.” She waved her hand. “Anyway, he seemed fine.”

  “That was it? Nothing else happened? Why do I still think there is more to this story?”

  “Because he invited me to the theater Thursday evening.”

  He frowned, not at all liking her demeanor. “And you said no, of course.”

  She glared at him. “There really was no way to say no. He just assumed I was willing and told me he would arrive at my house at seven o’clock on Thursday evening to escort me.”

  “I’m going, too.”

  “You weren’t invited.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I told him there was nothing between you and me.”

  That brought his thoughts to an abrupt halt. He didn’t like the sound of that. The only reason, of course, was because they had to work together on the assignment. Not because she seemed too comfortable with throwing that statement out there.

  He would give himself time to consider that later. Right now he had a very bad feeling about the Ambassador, and it had nothing to do with the investigation. “Lydia. We must work something out. I don’t like the idea of you and the Ambassador sitting in his dark box in the theater. Alone. Or his carriage, either.”

  “Then I will bring a chaperone.”

  “Excellent. I will make a wonderful chaperone.”

  She sighed again. “Not you. You cannot be my chaperone.”

  “Why not?”

  “I will bring my maid.”

  “Does she carry a gun?”

  She laughed. Actually laughed like this was a comedy and he was reciting all the funny lines. “No. My maid does not carry a gun.”

  “Then I shall go with you.” He held up his hand. “Just hear what I have to say. Hunt has a box at the theater, so I can attend the same evening. There wouldn’t be anything odd about that. I’ve used it before.”

  Her jaw tightened and she flashed an angry look in his direction. “Dante, this is becoming ridiculous. I am able to take care of myself. You act as though you suspect the man will attempt to kidnap me.”

  “Bloody hell.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I never thought of that.” He looked up at her. “Suppose he knows about our investigation, and it is his intention to silence you?”

  She stared at him with her mouth open. “You are becoming downright deranged. I know we suspect him of gaining secrets from the Home Office and passing them along to his government, but now you have him as a lecher and possibly an abductor, or murderer.” She drew herself up and glared at him. “I fear you are becoming unhinged.”

  He huddled in the corner, arms crossed, and stared out the window. Mayhaps he was starting to sound a tad overprotective and suspicious. However, he still intended to follow the carriage from her house to the theater and then avail himself of Hunt’s theater box. He had no idea where his brother’s box was in relation to the Ambassador’s, but if he arrived early and hung about the lobby, he could wait for them to enter, and then follow them.

  ‘Twas probably best not to let Lydia in on his plan.

  She reached over and patted him on the knee. “It will be fine.” She fumbled in her reticule and withdrew a hat pin. “See. I was prepared.”

  He laughed. And she laughed with him. The tension eased in the carriage, and they had a pleasant ride back to her house where he left her with a reminder that they were to attend the Davidson ball that evening.

  Dante instructed his driver to take him to the Rose Room. He needed to get away from the investigation, the Ambassador, and most of all, Lydia.

  She was driving him crazy and he was turning into a loon, acting like some sort of a besotted lover. Of course nothing untoward would happen in the dark theater box with Lydia and the lecherous Ambassador with heavy curtains between them and the rest of the theater. He had no need to worry. None at all.

  Like bloody hell he didn’t.

  Lydia had to admit she was a tad nervous as she awaited Dante’s arrival for them to attend the Davidson ball that evening. Now that she had made peace between her and the Ambassador, she was concerned she’d overplayed and now the man thought she had a romantic interest in him.

  Nothing could be further from the truth. Not when it was Dante who occupied her dreams, both when asleep and awake. Why had she allowed the man to get under her skin?

  When they’d first met, she had a firm opinion of what he was like. His reputation had preceded him. A rake, a libertine, and a rogue. He and his two brothers, especially Hunt, had built up a reputation among the ladies of the ton. It had always amused her that Dante evaded the ton, yet he remained one of their darlings.

  His bastard standing seemed to mean nothing; if anything made him more of a reprobate. Then they were paired on the assignment and she found a funny, caring, honorable man. Certainly not what she’d been expecting.

  And his kisses! She’d had her share of kisses over the years, but none moved her the way Dante’s had. She’d allowed him liberties she would never have dreamed of allowing a man not her husband.

  She tried to tell herself he was the same with other women and he found nothing special about her. Except she’d seen the surprise on the faces of the women he’d turned away to dance or walk with her.

  It was just the investigation. He needed to make it appear as if they were courting so he had a reason to be in her company all the time so they could gather the information the Home Office needed.

  “Mr. Rose has arrived.” One of the footmen tapped on her bedchamber door. Lydia gathered up her things and with her shawl resting over her arm, she left the room and headed to the front parlor. Before she made it to the bottom stair, she could hear Dante and Father conversing.

  This was troubling. The two of them were conversing like old friends. They both held a brandy and were quite relaxed on two chairs facing the fireplace.

  Dante hopped up when she entered the room, with Father right behind him. “Good evening, Miss Sanford. You look lovely as always.”

  Lydia moved toward the two chairs and settled on the settee across from Dante’s seat. “Thank you.”

  He looked as handsome and dashing as usual, with all black evening clothes, except for a white shirt and silver and
black waistcoat. When he looked at her, the tiny butterflies in her stomach did a quadrille. “Would you care for a sherry before we leave?”

  So now Dante was taking over Father’s place as host?

  “Yes, please.”

  Quickly and efficiently, Dante walked to the sideboard, poured her a sherry, and brought it to her. Lydia glanced at her father who viewed Dante, and the two of them, with a father’s pride and happiness.

  She couldn’t help wondering how fast Dante could escape the room if he knew what was going on behind Father’s cheerful countenance.

  The three chatted for a few minutes about the ball that evening, and the musicale the following night. Lydia smartly refrained from mentioning the theater outing with the Ambassador on Thursday. Besides not wanting to put Dante in a foul mood, she also did not think Father would approve, either.

  Honestly. Men seemed to think women could not make a decision for themselves, that as men they must always guide them and decide what was best. She was a grown woman and had every intention of guiding her own life.

  Even if she were to marry.

  Now there was a thought not as easily dismissed as it had once been. Before she would dwell on it more, however, Dante stood and took the empty glass from her hand. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” She gathered her reticule and slid on her gloves. Dante took the shawl from her and placed it over her shoulders. The warmth from his hands resting briefly on her shoulders sent shivers down her body.

  “Are you cold,” he asked, his lips close to her ear.

  She shook her head. Goodness, Father was right in the room. She glanced sideways at him to see a bright smile.

  Yes, trouble.

  She kissed Father on his cheek, and they left the room. She swore he was humming under his breath when she kissed him.

  “Your father is a cheerful sort,” Dante said as they settled into the carriage. “I knew him from the club, of course, but never really spoke much with him.”

  “Yes.” She pulled the shawl tighter over her shoulders. “He is quite pleasant. He has a great deal of friends. I always wondered why he never remarried. He was certainly young enough when Mother died.”

  “How long ago did your mother pass away?”

  “I was five years old. She died giving birth to my brother, who died, as well.”

  “So now I have to be an un-gentleman and ask you how many years ago that was which will tell me how old you are.”

  Lydia grinned. She was never one to be concerned about her age. She was happily on the shelf and had been for several years. “It matters not. I am six and twenty, which means Mother passed away twenty-one years ago.” She paused for a moment. “My goodness, I hadn’t realized how long she is gone. I remember her quite clearly. Maybe because Father never did re-marry so there wasn’t another mother to take her place in my life.”

  Dante shifted to rest his foot on his other knee. “I never knew my mother. Everyone knows I am the bastard son, and apparently my devoted mother had no use for me, and I was left on the earl’s doorstep when I was only a few weeks old.

  “My father immediately pronounced me as his son, and insisted I be raised right along Hunt and Driscoll. Their mother, naturally, wasn’t too fond of the idea, but the earl insisted. While I can’t say Lady Huntington was mean to me, because she was not, I never got the same warm feelings from her as my brothers did.”

  “Considering how many by-blows are tossed into the foundling homes, I must give Lord Huntington a great deal of credit for what he did.”

  “Yes.” Dante nodded. “He was a remarkable man.” He paused for a moment. “I loved him, and miss him every day.”

  Their carriage joined the queue waiting to alight at the Davidsons’ townhouse. Soon a footman opened the door and Dante stepped out and turned to help Lydia.

  “I will help the young lady, my boy.” The Ambassador elbowed Dante out of the way and took Lydia’s hand. “It’s truly a pleasure to see you, Miss Sanford. As always, you are looking stunning.”

  Lydia inwardly groaned. This was precisely what she’d been afraid of. She looked helplessly at Dante who glowered as though he was prepared to do a repeat performance on the Ambassador’s nose.

  Not to be outdone, Dante stepped up to her other side and linked his arm with hers. He leaned down close to her ear. “Do not, under any circumstances, allow that man to snag a waltz. Save them for me. All of them.”

  Lydia groaned.

  15

  The three of them were all announced together and descended the stairs to the ballroom floor as one. Neither man would let go of her arm and she began to feel like she was the center of a tug of war.

  They’d barely stepped foot onto the floor when Dante whipped the dance card out of her hand. He quickly wrote his name on two spots and smirked in the Ambassador’s direction.

  The Ambassador’s turn was next. He snatched the card, crossed out Dante’s name on one line and added his. Dante took the card back again and when he prepared to cross out the Ambassador’s name, Lydia grabbed it back and tore it in two. “There.” She took a deep breath. “Shall we stroll gentlemen?”

  It was the beginning of the most frustrating and annoying night Lydia had ever endured. Neither man would leave her side, even when she said she had to visit the ladies’ retiring room. They both walked her there, and even though she spent almost a half hour there, they were both propped up against the wall glaring at each other when she exited the room.

  “Pardon me, Ambassador, but may I have a word with Mr. Rose?” She offered her bright smile at the man.

  He glowered in Dante’s direction, but nodded. Lydia dragged Dante away so they would not be heard. “This is ridiculous. The man will have no opportunity to speak with anyone else with the two of you acting like dogs hovering over a piece of meat.”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  Lydia sighed and searched the heavens for an answer. “What could possibly happen in a crowded ballroom? I have no intention of leaving the room with the Ambassador and—”

  “—or the garden. Don’t go into the garden. Or the patio. If you need fresh air I will take you outside.”

  She counted to ten, then went up to thirty. “Very well. I will not leave the room. If I feel faint, I shall find you, or faint right in the middle of the floor where you can see me.”

  The features on his face softened and he reached up to run his finger down her cheek. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. It’s important to me.”

  She grew serious. “Why is that?”

  He looked guilty, as though he hadn’t meant to say what he had. “Er, because of the assignment. I need you to work with me on it.” He looked away, as if uncomfortable looking at her while he murmured the words.

  Lies, perhaps?

  She nodded. “Fine. I will see you for our dance and fill you in on anything I’ve gained.” She made her way back to the Ambassador who took her arm. “Is everything all right, Miss Sanford? I shall be more than happy to speak with the young man if he won’t leave you alone.”

  Good grief.

  “Everything is well, Ambassador. Let us return to the ballroom. I think it is getting close to our dance.”

  Things went slightly better once she’d spoken to Dante, but he continued to dodge her heels. No matter where she stood, or who she was speaking with, one glance up and there was Dante watching her with a frown.

  By the time the ball had ended, her feet hurt, she was tired of the Ambassador trying to talk her into a stroll in the garden, and quite finished with watching Dante scowl at her.

  “May I escort you home, Miss Sanford,” the Ambassador said.

  Goodness, no.

  “Thank you anyway, but Mr. Rose escorted me here, so I shall return with him.”

  The man leaned in close to her ear. “I don’t trust him.”

  Counting to forty would not even help at this point. She offered what she hoped was a confident smile. “I will be fine, Ambassador. Thank
you for a pleasant evening.” She slipped away as quickly as she could, having no problem finding Dante since he hadn’t left her view all evening.

  She tugged on his arm. “Get me out of here, please. I am about to explode.”

  He retrieved her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. She practically pulled him down the steps into the waiting carriage. Once they were settled, she leaned her head back on the squab. “I am so very grateful this evening is over.”

  “Did he touch you!”

  She looked at him through slitted eyes, not moving her head an inch. “How could he ever touch me without you knowing, since you never stopped watching us all night?” Her jaw hurt from clenching it. “What about all the dances you were supposed to have with other ladies?”

  “I never signed up for any,” he mumbled.

  They rode in silence for a few minutes. Then Dante cleared his throat. “Did you, um, learn anything?”

  Fighting a megrim, she kept her eyes closed. “No. All his conversations were in English. Except one, but that was merely an exchange of pleasantries with someone who didn’t speak English well.”

  “Are you well?” There was genuine concern in his voice.

  “As I said, I have the beginnings of a megrim.”

  He shifted so he sat next to her. “Here, lean against my chest and I will massage your temples.”

  She shifted so he could place his fingers on the side of her head. He began to gently rub, and she sighed. “Um, that feels wonderful.”

  This had been the most frustrating and annoying evening of his life. As Dante rubbed Lydia’s head, his mind went back to the obnoxious Ambassador. How he would love to punch him in the face again! Only this time he’d be sure to break the insufferable man’s nose instead of just bruising it.

  This was one investigation that he would be more than happy to uncover information to ruin the man. Send him back to where he came from in disgrace. He’d watched him and Lydia all evening and even though nothing improper—that he could see—took place, he hated the proprietary air the Ambassador had toward Lydia.