Page 58 of Tempting the Highland Spy
“I’d say that ranks at the top of the list.”
The curve of her mouth intensified. “You were most impressive that night. Mr. O’Hanlon had not expected such gallantry.”
As he met her gaze, she regarded him with a thoughtful expression. Her eyes were as deep brown and tempting as fine chocolate, her expression lacking the slightest hint of guile.
Was that a tribute to her talent as an actress?
Or was her admiration genuine?
Though the question intrigued him, he shoved the prospect aside. Miss Winters’s opinion of him and his necessity-driven defense of her had no bearing on this mission.
“I’d prefer no further opportunities to demonstrate mygallantry.” Needing to change the subject, he shot his attention back to her traveling case. “Whatdoyou carry in that trunk? A ready supply of cannon balls?”
“I assure you I brought only the necessities.” She swept a stray reddish-gold curl behind her ear. “Now, as I was saying, I must find a shop and acquire a new gown or two. Today.”
He frowned. “You’re telling me you did not bring any dresses with you? What about the gown you were wearing that night in Edinburgh?”
She looked at him as if he’d suggested she attend the ball dressed as Lady Godiva. The image in his thoughts taunted him. Even in his fantasy, Grace bore a cheeky smile.
“I’ve already worn it. I can’t chance being spotted wearing the same gown twice. It simply isn’t done—not by an heiress, at least. I need something new for the wedding festivities. Something elegant, befitting the wife of a man of your stature.”
“Might I remind you I am a physician, not a member of the royal family.”
She waved away the thought. “No one needs to know you’re not wealthy. After all, you did manage to snag a pretend heiress, didn’t you?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“It’s all about the attitude,” she said with authority.
“The attitude, eh?”
“Yes, the attitude is what makes the difference—and the right wardrobe.”
“And precisely whatattitudemight that be?”
“When we both happened to be in attendance at the Houghton Manor wedding, you were willing to believe I was an heiress. You had no trouble accepting the ridiculous stories I told…as if my father could’ve bought a hunting club simply because he took a fancy to it.”
“So you’re telling me your father does not collect properties he takes a liking to?”
A sudden twinge of sadness flashed in her eyes, briefly but undeniably. “He most certainly didn’t do that. My father was a man of modest means. Honest and hardworking, but far from rich.”
“You saidwas.I take it he’s no longer alive.”
The sadness returned, and she did not try to hide it. Instantly, he regretted his query.
“Papa died long ago. I was a girl. Mama died soon after.”
“That must have been very hard for you,” he said, stifling an urge to comfort her.
“It was—and the worst of it is, what happened was my—” Her lids lowered, shuttering her eyes. When she opened them again, she met his gaze. “Aunt Thelma took care of me then. She did her best to keep a roof over our heads. I know you can’t understand that.” She pulled in a breath, then set the book aside. “But none of that matters now, does it? My point was simple—if you behave as though you have money, people assume you do.”
He contemplated her words, slowly shaking his head. “I cannot believe it’s that easy.”
One flannelette-covered shoulder lifted and fell. The nightgown and wrapper she’d donned might have suited his grandmother far better than a vibrant young bride, but he kept that observation to himself. Oddly enough, the prim clothing did nothing to mute her appeal. If anything, the thought of peeling off that dressing gown and stripping the granny gown from her delectable flesh stirred his most primal instincts. Precisely what he didn’t need. He shifted, positioning himself to ensure the blankets covering his lower body did not betray his body’s defiant response. The last bloody thing he needed was to revealthattruth to Grace—his body didn’t give a damn about the crimes she’d committed. His hunger for her was not diminished by his knowledge of her conniving ways. Of course, it might help if he wasn’t more than a bit impressed at her ingenuity—and confounded by the kindness in her heart. The enigma she presented intrigued him just as much as her beauty kindled a desire he was hard-pressed to deny. He settled his back against the headboard and shifted again.
As he watched her, a little vee formed between her delicate brown brows. Something that looked like the beginning of a smile played on her mouth. Had she noticed his sudden discomfiture?
“Is something wrong, dearhusband?” Her voice was low and saccharine sweet…and all too knowing.
