Page 18 of The Secret of the Dashing Detective
She stepped closer to him until her nose was but an inch from his, but this time there would be no kissing. She was far too annoyed with him.
“I am not a woman who allows herself to be taken advantage of, Mr. Archibald. I do as I please,” she said before adding, “within reason.”
He drew a quick intake of breath, closing his eyes for a moment before fixing his light blue stare on her again.
“I do not want to complicate things, Lady Juliana,” he said, his voice low, and she could hear the truth in it now. “I must think with my head. I lost my sense for a moment. I can assure you that I am now focused on what is important once more and will continue to make your protection my priority.”
“My protection,” she snorted, as the realization that the kiss had been such a disappointment that he had been able to ‘change focus’ so quickly. “That was stolen from me long ago.”
“There was one difference then,” he said, his mouth set in a firm line of determination. “I was not there.”
The worst of it was that he was right. Keeping her safewaswhat he was getting paid to do. But it was also what his other men – Mr. Green and a man she heard called Mouse and all the rest of them – had been paid to do as well.
But she didn’t feel this with any of them. This cocoon of safety, the knowledge that no matter what, as long as he was there, everything would be all right.
It was as had she said before the walk – it was never something she would feel with Lord Hemingway.
“Well,” she said, swaying back and forth slightly, allowing her skirts to dance over their feet, “I should be getting in before my mother comes looking for me. I shall see you tomorrow, Mr. Archibald.”
“Not tomorrow,” he said, correcting her, and she nodded but didn’t respond.
For she would be there tomorrow – whether he knew it or liked it or not.
* * *
“How was the princess today?”
Matthew walked into his offices to find Mouse and Anderson waiting for him.
“Don’t you two have something better to do?” he grunted, rearranging the chairs back to where they belonged.
“Not particularly. We met here before going to Warwick House for our shift,” Mouse said, leaning back in his seat and propping his feet up on the desk before him.
“Wonderful,” Matthew said dryly. He usually enjoyed the opportunity to converse with his men, but today he didn’t feel like analyzing his time with Lady Juliana. He would be doing enough of that in his own head without additional quips. “How goes the Smithfield case? Catch the wife in action yet?”
“No,” Mouse said, shaking his head. “The opposite, actually. Pip just left. He said the Mrs. spent today visiting one of the foundling hospitals with a stop at her husband’s mother’s house on the way home. Notes are on your desk.”
“Interesting,” Matthew murmured as he stepped into his office, picking up the paper before him, bringing it out and reading through it. It appeared this case was not going to be how it had initially seemed. “We’ll give it another week and then provide Smithfield with our report.”
“Agreed,” Mouse said before his lips turned up in a smirk again. “Heard you also spent some time wandering down Piccadilly following the princess and her suitor.”
“I did.”
“Can’t say I ever thought I’d see you in such a role again.”
“Part of the job. If the duke pays for me to follow his sister down Piccadilly, then down Piccadilly I walk.”
“S’pose it wouldn’t be so bad to watch her from behind all that way,” Anderson piped in, and Matthew couldn’t help the low growl that sounded in his throat.
“You will not speak of Lady Juliana that way.”
When his words were met with silence, Matthew looked up from his paper to find both men staring at him with astonishment on their faces, and he found himself quickly offering an explanation.
“Her family is our client. A client that is paying us a great deal of money to watch over them and keep them safe. We will not disrespect any of them. This is the kind of business we need. Understood?”
“Understood,” they both murmured, although they shared an all-knowing look before rising to make their way to Warwick House.
“Goodnight, boss.”
