Page 24 of An Unwilling Earl
“What saying?”
“Curiosity killed the cat. Do you know what the other part of the saying is?”
“No. But I’m sure you’d like to tell me.”
“But satisfaction brought it back.”
“Huh. I didn’t know that.”
“Which rookery are we going to?”
She stopped again to stare at him in astonishment. “Surely you’re not following me all the way to my lodgings.”
“Of course not. I’m accompanying you. There’s a difference.”
She crossed her arms and tried not to be amused by his pleased expression. He was wiggling his way into her good graces, and she didn’t want that, but her heart was certainly pumping quickly enough to tell her it thought otherwise. In another life maybe they could have outwardly flirted and entertained the possibility of more. But not this life. “You can’t go to the rookery.”
“Why not? You do.”
“That’s different.”
“Different how?”
“Oh.” She dropped her arms to her sides and just barely stopped herself from stomping her foot in frustration. “You know it’s not safe.”
“Then you definitely shouldn’t be there.”
“What will it take so you do not follow me into the rookery?”
He seemed to think about that for a long moment. “Let me buy you a hot meal and we can talk.”
“You’ll just pester me with questions about why I left my aunt, and I won’t answer them. It will be money wasted on a meal.”
“Not wasted,” he said softly. “Time spent with you is never wasted.”
She was stunned into silence. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. A kernel of warmth erupted in her stomach, and she had to douse it with the cold reality that she was not here for a romantic involvement with a solicitor-turned-earl. She was here…
Well, she’d forgotten why she was here. Because she’d thought she needed help, but she was beginning to fear that his help was far more dangerous to her than the rookery.
“No one will serve me looking like this.” She plucked at her filthy trousers and twisted her lips in distaste. What did he see in her, a woman dressed as a man, her hair shorn, dirty, and probably smelly as well?
He looked her up and down as if seeing her attire for the first time.
“You’re probably right.”
That hopeful feeling in her heart splintered. “So that solves that. Good day, Mr. Baker, I mean, Lord Ashland.”
He continued following her.
The man was truly vexing. The only way she was going to lose him was if she ran into the rookery and hid among the warren of streets and alleys, but she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t put him in jeopardy because hewouldfollow her.
“I like you, Miss Morris. You’re the most intriguing person I’ve ever met.”
Her steps faltered. People had called her beautiful. Years ago. But her aunt had not liked that. Vainglory was one of the seven deadly sins, and so she had been sure to stamp that out of Charlotte right away. But intriguing? She’d never been called that, and she wondered where that word fell within the deadly sins.
“I’m not sure if that is a compliment,” she said, attempting to sound airy and only vaguely interested but sounding strangled, as if she were fighting tears—which she was.
“Oh, it is.”
