by Amelia Grey
He knew he was a fool for agreeing to this charade, but he had to admit that it held a strange, exciting appeal. He knew if they were caught he’d be forced to marry her. That had given him pause. But if she was courageous enough to risk her reputation to be caught with him in disguise, he had to be willing to risk his freedom to spend a few more minutes with her.
They pulled up in front of Throckmorten’s house, and Daniel jumped down. He reached back up for Isabella and took her hand and helped her step down. Her fingers were warm beneath her glove, and a shiver of desire raced through him.
Daniel wanted to slide his hands around her small waist and pull her against him so that he could feel the length of her body against his. He wanted to cup her face in his hands and tenderly kiss her lips, but all he could do was let go of her and step away.
“I’ll do all the talking,” he said as they walked side by side up to the front door.
“I wouldn’t dream of interfering.”
He threw her a doubtful glance, and she gave him a smile that he felt all the way down in his groin. “Why don’t I believe that?”
“Maybe because in the short time we’ve been acquainted, you know me too well.”
“Perfect answer.”
Daniel knocked on the door, and they waited for a short time before the butler appeared. Daniel introduced himself with his title as he had the afternoon before when he’d come looking for Throckmorten. The butler stepped aside and invited them into a small parlor.
“I’d like to see Mr. Throckmorten if he’s available for guests,” Daniel said.
The butler remained stiff and perfectly schooled as he answered, “I’m afraid he’s not home at the moment, my lord. May I offer you refreshment?” He looked over at Isabella, but he didn’t say anything to her. She kept her head low and the wide-brimmed bonnet shielded most of her face.
“No, thank you. Do you expect him to return soon?” Daniel asked and noticed that Isabella was slowly walking around the room looking at the paintings, porcelains, and fabrics of the furniture and draperies.
“I really can’t say, my lord. Would you like to sit down?”
“No, not if your employer isn’t here. I won’t stay. Perhaps you can tell me when you do expect him.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Can you tell me if he’s been home today?”
Daniel stole another quick glance in Isabella’s direction. What was she doing snooping in Throckmorten’s house? He knew women were naturally curious about households and how they were decorated, but she really shouldn’t be looking Throckmorten’s house over so thoroughly.
“No, my lord,” the butler said. “He didn’t come home last night.”
“Did you find that odd?” Daniel asked.
“Not at all. Sometimes he’ll be gone for days before returning.”
“I see. Well, you will tell him that I’m sorry to have missed him.”
“Yes, Lord Colebrooke. Would you like to leave your card?”
“I don’t have one with me. I’m sure I’ll run into him at White’s or one of the clubs. Thank you.”
Daniel remained quiet as they walked out to the carriage.
Suddenly Isabella said, “Daniel, stand right there at just that angle.”
Isabella quickly reached into the carriage and grabbed her own bonnet. She knelt down, putting herself between Daniel’s body and the wheel of the carriage.
“What in the bloody hell are you doing?” he asked.
“Changing back to Isabella.”
“Don’t do that here. Someone might happen by and see you.”
“Not if you keep your voice down and stop looking down at me. I checked and no one is walking down either side of the street.”
“What if someone is looking out a window?”
“I doubt they could see through you. So don’t move.”
“That’s rather hard not to do when you are almost between my legs.”
“Just look across the street at something,” she offered.
“That’s easier said than done,” he mumbled as an excited thrill rushed through him as he watched her stooped in front of him, the top of her head moving back and forth as she swung the old cloak off her shoulders.
She looked up at him again, and her face was even with his crotch. Daniel’s body reacted so quickly he was hard within seconds. He immediately envisioned placing his hands on each side of her head and pressing her lips to him.
“Pretend you are talking to your driver,” she said before returning to her task.
Daniel couldn’t move as long as she was kneeling in front of him so close the merest movement from him would have them touching.
Within moments she rose and dumped the old cloak, bonnet, and wig onto the floor of the carriage. Daniel swallowed hard. The bulge between his legs throbbed. His breath was short and labored, his control on the edge. For a wild second he wanted to say Society be damned and crush her to him to ease his aching need for her.
Isabella faced him, her own bonnet on her head but the ribbons not tied. Her face was flushed from her quick change, and her eyes full of excitement. No sunshine was needed when her eyes sparkled the way they did right now.
“Shall we go?” she asked and held out her hand for him to help her into the carriage.
Daniel was stunned she had no idea what she had just done to him. A labored breath whispered past his teeth, and he swallowed past a dry throat. Everything about her had become a sexual awareness for Daniel.
“By all means, let’s get out of Throckmorten’s neighborhood before someone sees us.”
He helped her into the carriage and seated himself beside her. He motioned for the carriage driver to get them out of there.
“Well, now are you convinced that Throckmorten is dead?”
Isabella gave him an impish smile. “No, but I am convinced he wasn’t home.”
Daniel sat back in the carriage seat with his hands covering the fullness in his lap. What was he going to do with the lovely mischief maker?
Ten
Daniel stood in the doorway of the billiards room at White’s watching Mr. Thomas Wright playing a game with a young man Daniel didn’t recognize by name. It was clear they had a friendly wager riding on the outcome, and it looked as if Tom was going to beat his opponent with plenty of room for missed shots.
He liked the way Tom handled himself during the game. He was aggressive but not antagonistic as he played. He hadn’t been offended or angered when his opponent tried to distract him with taunts and jokes. The more Daniel saw of Tom the more he considered him a good match for his sister. Now he had to let Tom know that he would like him to call on Gretchen.
Daniel had come to the club after seeing Isabella home. He wanted to find a card game going so he could get his mind off her. He’d played several hands, but she hadn’t left his thoughts.
He shouldn’t like the fact she was unconventional and not afraid to step outside the boundaries of Society, but he did.
A firm hand clapped down on Daniel’s shoulder, and he turned to see his cousin sporting a grin. Daniel shrugged off Bradford’s offending hand. Seeing Bradford everywhere he went was one of the things Daniel hadn’t missed about the time he spent away from London.
Bradford moved away from Daniel but didn’t stop grinning. “You are a sly one, Danny.”
“Is that right?” Daniel said, having no idea what his cousin was talking about and not caring. He turned his attention back to Tom and away from Bradford’s bloodshot eyes.
“There’s no way I would have intruded and asked Miss Winslowe to dance last night if I’d had any idea you had an interest in her.”
Daniel glanced back at his cousin and wondered if he really expected him to believe that. “What makes you think I do?”
“You never were any good at lying, Danny.”
“Neither were you. The difference is that I’ve never wanted to be good at it.”
Bradford laughed, making his eyes seem pu
ffier. He said, “According to what I read in the scandal sheets, you were seen with Miss Winslowe in Lord Gleningwold’s garden and I’m told you were together on a ride in Hyde Park this afternoon. That sounds as if there might be something serious between the two of you.”
“Does it?”
“Is it?”
Daniel wasn’t about to discuss Isabella with Bradford, but he knew his cousin well enough that if he was too elusive, Bradford would latch on to the subject like a boar after a snared rabbit.
“Somehow it became known among the ton that I’m looking to make a match, and every young lady I met last night was ready to hear a marriage proposal from me. No doubt Miss Winslowe was one of them.”
Bradford laughed. “You’ve always thought highly of yourself, and obviously nothing happened while you were away to change that.”
“And why haven’t you been leg-shackled again? What’s it now, three years since your wife’s death?”
“About that, but all in good time, Danny. I have a son who is in good health, and I’m in no hurry to marry again.”
“You are fortunate to have a child. I trust you are staying out of trouble for his sake.”
“I believe you are really asking if I’ve stayed away from gambling. The answer to that, dear Cousin, is not on your life.”
He laughed again, showing straight, white teeth. Daniel supposed most ladies would consider him a handsome man, but for the dark circles under red and swollen eyes.
“That’s too bad.”
“Not really. I’m not as careless as I used to be. I’m older, wiser, and I’m a much better player. Practice is what it takes.”
“You’ve certainly had plenty of that over the years. You should be a master by now.”
Bradford shrugged. “And patience. I win more than I lose of late. By the by, I hear you rented a house in St. James.”
“It was easier for me to move into another place than to upset Aunt Mattie and Gretchen when I returned.”
“Ah, yes, Gretchen. She’s grown into a rather fetching young lady even with those dreadful things she has to wear on her face, the poor dear. I almost didn’t recognize her when the Season started. Has there been interest in her yet?”
Daniel shifted, his hackles rising. He was trying to hold on to his temper because he knew that Bradford liked nothing better than to get him riled.
“Nothing that I care to discuss,” Daniel said without hesitation. “I expect to have a match by the end of the Season.”
Bradford’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “That soon? That would be pleasant for you, wouldn’t it? Gretchen married and the responsibility of a husband.”
Daniel heard laughing and looked over to the billiards table. Tom and his friend had finished their game. He couldn’t tell which had won because both men had the smiling faces of winners. That was a good way to end a game.
Tom saw Daniel watching him and said his good-byes to his friend and walked over to where Daniel and Bradford stood at the doorway.
Greetings were exchanged among the three men before Daniel said to Tom, “You play a good game.”
Tom came very close to blushing and said, “Thank you, my lord. I can hold my own in most games.”
He wasn’t boastful. That was another excellent trait for Daniel to add to his growing list of reasons why Tom would be a good match for Gretchen.
“It was so kind of you to take the time to meet my sister last night,” Tom said. “She was flattered by the attention you gave her.”
Daniel paused in thought. Did Tom think Daniel had an interest in Amanda? Daniel hardly remembered what she looked like. Best he let Tom know that his only interest in him was as a husband for Gretchen.
“I was just about to get a glass of port, Tom. Care to join me?”
Tom’s eyes widened in surprise, which he quickly tried to cover. “Yes, thank you. I will.”
“Sorry, Danny,” Bradford said. “I cannot join you two for a drink. I think I’ll see if I can get something going in the game room.”
Bradford knew that he wasn’t included in the invitation for a drink, but the remark was his way of wanting Tom to think he was.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Chilton said, joining the group before Bradford had time to walk away. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“Not at all,” Daniel said.
Chilton coughed. “Good. Nasty weather out there, isn’t it? I’ve had enough of the cold and the rain to last me for a dozen years. I’m convinced spring is not going to arrive this year. We’ll be lucky to have warm days by summer.”
“Let’s hope that’s not the case,” Daniel said. “Bradford was just leaving us, and Tom and I were on our way to get a drink. Want to join us?”
“Don’t mind if I do, but first, have any of you seen this today?”
All three men looked at the broadside he held up before them.
“Is that the tittle-tattle about Danny and Miss Winslowe walking in the garden?” Bradford asked. “I think everyone has seen it.”
Daniel scowled at his cousin.
“Ah, no,” Chilton said. “I’m afraid this is much more serious than that.”
“What could be worse?” Daniel mumbled.
Chilton lowered the paper. “There’s been a murder in London. It appears that Boswell Throckmorten was found floating in the Thames this morning with a paper knife wedged between his ribs.”
The four men looked at one another.
The silence between them was deafening.
***
“I think the ghost is Elizabeth’s father,” Lady Lynette said to the group of young ladies who sat in Isabella’s parlor for their Reading Society meeting. “He was the last one to die.”
“No, no,” Abigail argued. “Don’t you remember her uncle the physician was murdered? I’m sure it is her uncle who’s come back for revenge.”
“Who do you think it is, Amanda?” Isabella asked, trying to draw out one of the shyest members of their group.
Amanda quickly looked down at her hands in her lap. In a quiet voice she answered, “Oh, if he is a spirit, I think it has to be that of Lord Pinkwater. He is the most famous ghost, isn’t he?”
It was clear to Isabella that Amanda had not been listening to their discussion about the book.
“Perhaps it’s Lord Pinkwater’s ghost. He seems to show up everywhere,” Lady Lynette said, and all the ladies in the room laughed.
Except Amanda and Isabella.
“But, ladies,” Isabella said after they quieted. “What is the point of this portion of the story?”
“Don’t send all the servants away on the same night,” Abigail said, and the ladies laughed again.
Isabella sat back in her chair and watched the young ladies enjoying the discussion and the humor about the horrid novel they were reading. If only she could get them to be as self-confident and lively when they were at the parties and balls. It was her desire that no young lady be as shy and nervous as she was when she first came to London.
When they quieted down, Isabella continued with her thought and said, “The point of the story here is that Elizabeth confronted her fears. She heard a noise in the other room. She was frightened, but she didn’t let the shadowy figure keep her from trying to find out what was going on just a few steps away.”
“She was very brave,” Beverly Smith said.
“Yes,” Isabella agreed. “That is what we need to learn from this story. And we need to apply it to our daily lives. It’s how we need to live. We need to know there is no reason to be frightened or shy if a handsome young man approaches us and asks us to dance. We are to stand tall, look him directly in the eyes, smile, and say, ‘Yes, thank you.’”
“But a ghost is not as frightening as a handsome gentleman,” Abigail said.
The ladies erupted into carefree laughter again. It pleased Isabella that they were having so much fun.
“Enough about ghosts,” Beverly said. “I want to know what we should do if a gentleman asks
for a kiss.”
The room became very quiet. Everyone looked at Isabella, including Auntie Pith, who sat beside the window, engrossed in her stitchery while listening to the ladies.
Isabella was unprepared for the question. It reminded her of Daniel and the kisses they had shared. She would never forget the feelings he stirred inside her. Would it be possible for her to ever feel that way again?
As she looked around the room, she realized they were waiting for her to answer. But how could she tell them that if they ever had the chance to kiss a handsome man, they should? She would be banished from Town if she said such a thing.
Out of the corner of her eye, Isabella noticed her maid standing in the doorway motioning for Isabella to join her.
“Ladies, this is not an area I’m comfortable discussing, so I’m going to turn this question over to Aunt Pithany, who is far wiser than I on matters such as this. You don’t mind, Auntie Pith, do you?”
Her aunt rose from her chair. “Of course not. I’ll tell them the same thing I told you.”
“Good. Come sit here in my chair. I’m going to excuse myself for a few minutes.”
Isabella rose and followed her maid out into the hallway.
“You have a gentleman here to see you, miss,” her maid whispered.
That was not what Isabella expected to hear. She had told her maid to be on the watch so that none of the young ladies slipped into the garden.
“What is his name?” Isabella asked.
“He says he’s the Earl of Colebrooke, miss.”
Isabella’s stomach tightened, and then fluttered in anticipation. “Oh, oh,” she whispered, wondering what he could be doing here. Then it struck her. “He must think Gretchen is here for the Reading Society.”
“I don’t know, miss. He didn’t say why he was here.”
She looked at her maid. “No, of course he wouldn’t. I’m merely talking to myself.”