“Why is my presence required this afternoon?” he bit out, refusing to look Rex’s way or acknowledge his question.
“Devenham’s sister invited me. She says her cousin will serve as chaperone but asked if I would bring a gentleman friend along to even out the numbers.”
Sullivan chuckled. “A woman says gentleman and friend, and you think of me?”
Rex wasn’t certain if the man was expressing amusement or giving him a set-down. Sullivan had been the only individual to come to mind when he’d received Lady Caroline’s invitation. “I do consider you a friend, Jack.” Expecting the detective to feel the same was a bit much to ask, especially considering that he paid the man’s wages.
“I’m honored, Mr. Leighton.” Always fastidious about titles, Sullivan never called Rex by his given name. “However, I fear I’ll fail you completely if you take me for a gentleman.” His voice lowered to the pained whisper one might use in a confessional. “I know how to behave like a gentleman, even dress to pass for one, but I assure you that no one who knew of my past—”
“I don’t give a damn about your past,” Rex shouted and was surprised to see a grin crest Jack’s face out of the corner of his eye. “We both play the gentleman when we must. We both have pasts we’d rather forget. I judge a man by his actions now, not by what he did when he was young and foolish. Or desperate.”
“Very well. We’re to be gentlemen today, and manage it with wheels attached to our boots.”
“When you put it like that, it sounds—”
“Terrifying?”
“Less appealing. How difficult can it be?”
Sullivan slanted an eye at him. “With a good deal of effort, I’ve actually managed to remain upright a few times. I used to know a lady who was quite fond of skating.”
“And? Not so bad, was it?”
“When I was vertical, it was grand.”
Rex couldn’t imagine the tall, poised detective next to him falling repeatedly in a skating rink, but he could easily envision slamming to the polished wood on his own backside. He winced as he asked Jack, “Did you fall a lot?”
“Depends on one’s definition of a lot. On my first attempt, I came home with more bruises than I’ve received in many a round of fisticuffs.”
Surely he’d fare better. Some of the agility of his younger days may have abandoned him, but he could keep to his feet on a skating rink. As a boy, he’d ice skated in Central Park. Once. Perhaps twice. He couldn’t recall sustaining any injuries, though he’d always been accompanied by his mother, who no doubt stood watch, ready to catch him if he started to fall.
“We’ll do fine, Jack. I suspect our main task will be to ensure that the lady joining us in a turn around the rink remains on her feet. If nothing else, you’ll have a titled lady to hold on to.”
“Which titled lady? I assume you will be paired with Lady Caroline. Do you know the young lady with whom I’ll be skating?”
He’d hoped to avoid the revelation until they reached the rink, considering how mention of Ashworth’s daughter had roused Sullivan that first time she came up in conversation. “Lady Emily Markham.”
“No.” Sullivan shook his head vehemently. “I cannot skate with Lady Emily.”
“Why does the woman frighten you so?”
“Nothing frightens me,” he scoffed, though Rex noted the man’s brow had furrowed into deep lines. “Lady Emily is . . . ” Sullivan lifted his hands and gestured in the air. At first he seemed to be indicating her height, but then his hands traced a more sinuous feminine shape. He finally gave up and folded his arms. “She’s the daughter of a duke.”
“Mmm, yes, perfectly clear now. However, I may ask Lady Caroline to marry me, so I think it best I stick by her side.”
Sullivan drew in a sharp breath through his nose. “Very well. I shall assist you in whatever way I am able.”
“You needn’t make it sound like I’m asking you to fall on your sword.”
“No, just my arse. Repeatedly.”
The cab slowed as they entered a row of traffic drawing up in front of the Olympia Grand rink.
“We’re here.” Sullivan lifted his chin to look out over the crowd awaiting entry into the arena. With his usual keen sight, he spotted their party immediately. “It seems we’ll be a group of six.”
Rex squinted in the direction Sullivan indicated and spotted a cluster composed of Devenham, his sister, Lady Emily, and May Sedgwick.
“Damnation.” The prospect of tripping over his feet in front of Caroline held no appeal. The possibility of making an utter jackass of himself with May in attendance made him want to call the whole outing off altogether.
He and Jack unfolded themselves from the cramped quarters of the carriage and offered each other a mutually wary glance before proceeding to join the others.
“Didn’t expect her to be here, I take it?” Jack asked as Lady Caroline caught sight of them and began waving. Rex needed no clarification to know she wasn’t the lady to whom the inquiry man referred.
“You’re my detective! Shouldn’t you have known where she would be?” Rex increased his pace, stomping ahead of Sullivan as he made his way through the crowd.
Jack called from behind him. “You did tell me not to include her in my efforts, sir.”
His punctilious investigator was right, of course. Rex spent months watching May’s parents fuss over her every action, controlling her behavior, and curtailing her freedoms. He couldn’t bear the thought of paying someone to track her movements now that she seemed to have achieved a bit of independence in London.
Rex forced his mouth into a smile as they reached Lady Caroline, taking care not to turn a single glance in May’s direction.
“Lady Caroline, thank you for the invitation. May I introduce my business associate, Jack Sullivan?”
Sullivan comported himself as if he’d been born to etiquette and social niceties, but he still looked slightly queasy when he took Lady Emily’s arm.
Devenham and May led the rest of them into the ring around the arena, and Rex found ignoring her much easier when he could glare at the back of their heads.
As if she sensed him watching her, May turned and looked back at him. She tried for disdain, her mouth tense and chin high, but her eyes were wide with interest as she held his gaze. She glanced at Lady Caroline before turning back.
“I do so enjoy this. I never move faster than when I’m skating.” Lady Caroline missed May’s look as she chattered on. “Or riding a horse, I suppose. Or even traveling in a carriage.” She frowned, as if weighing the various speeds of horse-drawn transport versus flinging herself around an enormous oval rink on eight small wheels. “And I never know who I’ll see.” She caught the eye of someone she knew and waved eagerly. “There’s always such a crush at the Olympia.”
After the third “Look, there’s Lady (or Lord) Thus-and-Such,” Rex simply nodded rather than trying to scan faces to locate a lady or gentleman he wouldn’t recognize if they stood directly in front of him.
Sitting on a nearby bench while they attached their skates, Sullivan and Lady Emily seemed to be engaged in actual conversation. She listened to him intently before offering an answer and a grin, which he returned.
“Have you skated before, Mr. Leighton?” Lady Caroline inquired as Rex claimed a bench to sit and place his booted foot on the four-wheeled metal base of his skate, taking care to buckle each leather strap securely.
“Only on ice back in New York when I was a child.” The constant noise and movement of the ladies and gentlemen already gliding around the rink brought memories to poignant life. A flash of his mother’s face and her encouraging smile made his chest ache.
“You must tell me about New York.”
Rex offered her a practiced grin. These English nobles were terribly curious about the city where he’d grown up, but none of them could imagine the hovel where he’d lived before leaving the States. Nor the sort of drudgery that had sent his mother to an early grave.
“My pleasure.” Rex crouched in front of her at the same moment Devenham knelt before May, lifting the edge of her gown just enough to reach beneath.
He forced his focus to remain on Lady Caroline’s ruffled hem and the work of wading through her layers of petticoats. Even when Devenham whispered something to May under his breath, and she laughed demurely in response.
She’d probably marry the man. He allowed himself a single glance at her face and caught a smile she offered the earl as he crouched at her feet.
“I do have another foot, Mr. Leighton.” Lady Caroline lifted her hem an inch higher and thrust her other booted foot toward him.
He buckled her skate in place and then reached higher, slipping his hand over the edge of the boot, gripping her warm stockinged leg above. “Forgive me, my lady.”
“Oh, you’re forgiven,” she purred, loud enough to earn her brother’s notice. The earl finally stood, stopped touching May, and led the way toward the entrance to the rink.
“I take it we simply wade into the fray.” Sullivan drew next to him, Lady Emily at his side.
“Seems the best strategy.” Rex never dreamed hundreds of Londoners would pack themselves into an enormous arena on a Monday afternoon to roll around a wooden rink in huge concentric circles.
Lady Caroline tugged him onto the floor, and they ended up behind a wall of three couples skating with their arms linked.
Rex noticed many skaters favored a forward lean and attempted it himself. The position allowed him to gain speed and maintain balance at the same time. Lady Caroline reached out and hooked her arm with his. He wasn’t certain if the connection allowed them to steady each other or made skating more precarious for both of them. She slowed him down, but they still achieved enough speed to make the experience exhilarating.
Devenham struggled to keep up with May, who clearly possessed skill and experience the rest of them lacked. The earl ended up nearly shoulder to shoulder with Rex and called ahead to her. “I had no notion you were so proficient in the rink, Miss Sedgwick.”
She cast an indulgent grin over her shoulder and slowed enough for the earl to catch up. Devenham drew close. Near enough for her to reach out and hook her arm through his. But she didn’t, and a satisfying fizz bubbled up in Rex’s chest at the sight of it.
Devenham didn’t seem nearly as pleased.
“Oh, look, there’s Georgie!” Lady Caroline called out, clearly intending her brother to hear. “He’s one of our dearest friends,” she said in a quieter tone to Rex.
There had to be twenty young men skating in the general area Lady Caroline indicated. As they continued to move around the oval, she twisted her head back to look at her friend, leaning at an awkward angle to keep the gentleman in view.
“Careful, Caroline.” Rex let go of her arm and reached around her waist in an attempt to keep her upright, but she’d already begun to lose her footing. One leg extended too far.
“Ah!” She let out a frightful squeal and both her legs splayed as she started down onto her backside.
Rex cut to the right to stop himself and wrapped both arms around her, catching her midfall.
“You’ve saved me,” she breathed against his cheek.
They finally slowed, and Rex led her to the side of the rink and up onto the platform, away from the rush of oncoming skaters. Caroline clasped her arms around his neck and leaned on him a bit too eagerly for such a public space.
“Are you all right?” Rex attempted to loosen her hold gently, but she immediately tightened her grip. Finally, he managed to lower their laced hands to her lap.
“My head feels as if it’s still spinning around that rink.”
He felt the echo of movement in his own body too. The insistent rolling noise of wheels on wood made him want to step back into the rink. Among the skaters, May and Lady Emily had clasped arms to skate together as Sullivan hovered behind them.
“Thank you, Mr. Leighton.” Caroline squeezed his hand to snag his attention.
“Not at all, my lady.” After pulling away from her, he seated himself at a respectable distance on the bench where they’d settled. He reached up to pat her back, attempting to soothe the tremors he’d felt rippling up his arms through their clasped hands.
She leaned into him again, just as Lady Emily and Sullivan stepped up out of the rink.
“You took a bit of a tumble, my dear.” Lady Emily seemed determined to take over tending Caroline, and Rex was content to relinquish the task.
“Lady Caroline is uninjured?” Sullivan inquired as he stood watching the skaters as if he too wished to reenter the fray.
“Quite. A bit shaken up but unharmed.” Rex moved next to him and spoke quietly. “Where’s Miss Sedgwick?” He could see Devenham, who was skating alongside a couple he’d never met, but May’s peach-colored gown looked similar to many worn by dark-haired women whirling past.
“I only see the earl. Has he left her all alone in this crush?” The disgust in Sullivan’s voice matched Rex’s feelings about the man.
“There she is.” Rex spotted her between two groups of ladies, none of whom she seemed to know. Though she skated with masterful grace, she turned her head from side to side as she rolled along, looking a bit lost.
“I’m going to get her.” Just as she approached, Rex stepped down into the rink and gathered momentum to draw up behind her.
He reached for her, his fingers brushing just above her elbow. “Your partner seems to have abandoned you.”
“I thought you said I wasn’t the sort of woman who required rescuing.” Despite her sarcastic tone, she adjusted her pace to allow him to skate beside her.
“So it seems. You’re very good at this.” He meant the compliment. May made skating look effortless. She moved with enough speed to cause loose waves of hair to ripple along her shoulder.
“That fact shocks you?” She glanced at him before focusing ahead again and lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “My mother used to take me ice skating in the park every winter. Until she fell ill.”
An exuberant couple moving far too swiftly and wobbling back and forth came up from behind. Rex and May made space for them to pass. As they rolled by, the lady wobbled a bit too far and shot an arm out to grasp May’s sleeve.
“Pardon me, miss,” she called as her partner caught her and the two picked up speed.
May laid a hand on Rex’s forearm to steady herself. A simple action. A practical touch.
It kicked Rex’s pulse into a gallop. He took advantage, wrapping a hand around her waist so that they moved in unison, the lush flare of her hip pressed against his upper thigh.
“One misstep and you’ll bring us both down.” She was close enough to whisper the words, and he wondered if she intended the double meaning. There was no doubt the lady could maintain her balance in the skating rink, but he hadn’t mistaken her eagerness when he’d kissed her on Ashworth’s back terrace. Or her anger when she’d stormed away and vowed to marry an aristocrat.
“I won’t let you fall, May.” He wouldn’t allow any injury to come to her in the rink, and he wouldn’t toy with her heart. He loosened his hold on her waist and immediately felt less. Less satisfied. Less whole. As if being near her filled an emptiness he didn’t know existed until she moved away.
She turned her head, and he felt the press of her gaze. Apparently, the lady could skate without even watching where she was going. He didn’t yet possess such skill and kept his eyes fixed ahead.
“I have no intention of falling, Mr. Leighton.” She dipped forward to burst ahead of him, and one long black ribbon at the back of her gown slipped through his fingers, inch by inch. Cutting to the ri
ght of several skaters, she slowed and gripped the rail along the rink, stepping up onto the platform ringing the arena.
He circled twice more, focusing on the skaters and the whirring drone of movement and chatter. It wasn’t unlike the hum of the enormous dynamo that would generate electricity at the Pinnacle. The sound and the cooling ripple of air against his face as he skated eased a bit of the tension in his body, but it did nothing to erase the scent of her. One touch and he could smell her perfume wafting off his clothing and skin. He clenched the hand he’d placed at her waist into a fist, less out of frustration than a desire to hold onto the memory of touching her.
“Caroline.” The name felt odd on his tongue, but he forced himself to focus on the lady who watched him intently from the edge of the rink. She’d been the only noblewoman to show interest beyond a meaningless tumble or short-lived affair. He had every reason to propose, and soon. Though he had money on hand to pay Thorndike for the property itself, he’d need Ashworth’s funds to start the renovations he envisioned.
He stepped up to join Caroline and the rest of their party.
“You’ve returned to me,” she said, casting a less than charitable glance in May’s direction.
“Have I given you cause for doubt, my lady?”
She pressed against him. Her scent, cloyingly sweet, trounced May’s roses. “Not as yet, though I could think of several ways a gentleman might set a lady’s mind at ease.”
Rex pivoted so that he couldn’t see May, not even out of the corner of his eye. “Tell me your ways, Caroline, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter Eleven
THEY WERE BECOMING a frequent foursome, she and Henry, and Rex and Caroline. The prospect of carrying on this way for the rest of their lives—attending parties together, elbow to elbow at balls, sharing the occasional carriage or train trip, and socializing at holidays—made May’s head ache. A little twinge had already begun building to a throbbing crescendo behind her eyes.
Today they’d planned an outing to the British Museum. May arrived early and stood tapping her foot and fussing with her gloves next to one of the museum’s soaring Ionic columns. Normally, she adored wandering its vast collections, but today she’d have to fret about sliding her glance toward Rex too often, or attending more carefully to his comments than to Henry’s. His scent would distract her, as it always did. A grin would catch her eye, a rumble of laughter, or his warm, deep voice would draw her notice over everyone else’s.
One Dangerous Desire (Accidental Heirs) Page 10