Page 75 of My Kind of Scoundel
He had watched her sleeping. She had clutched the bedsheets to her chest as if hugging a lover. Having discarded her pillow, she slept on the one he’d used to rest his head. Had she inhaled the remnants of his scent? Because he had laid face-down in his bed and breathed the essence of her.
“I’ve barely slept,” he admitted. “I’ll be useless today.”
“Did London’s rogues refuse to leave the gaming tables?”
“No, Eleanor. I spent the night thinking about you.”
She swallowed deeply. “Thinking about the case and what I discovered about Emily? Now I know why she was so interested in my life in Eynsford.”
He moistened his lips. “No, about the dimples in your cheeks when you smile, about the way your voice drops an octave when you’re aroused.” The way his name fell from her lips with she came. “The list of your charming qualities is endless.”
“Oh.” Her brows knitted together. “And what did you conclude?”
“That you have me bewitched.” He was besotted.
She shifted nervously. “Perhaps I shall see if Madame Vestris is looking for another witch for her parody of Macbeth.”
“I’m not joking.” He stepped close enough to rest his hand on her waist. “It killed me to leave you last night.”
She held his gaze. “It killed me to let you go.”
“Then we should deal with the solicitor promptly and spend the rest of the day in bed.” He bent his head to avoid attracting a passerby’s attention. “I’ve never known desire like this.”
He was acting like a lovesick fool, lingering in the shadows just to glimpse his enchantress. Looking for any excuse to touch her.
“We must visit Mr Daventry, and I hoped to check on Emily and ask her more questions. I would also like to ask Miss Franklin how she knew I’d tumbled down the stairs.”
Don’t you want me?he wanted to say.
She was being logical while he could think of nothing but her soft thighs and porcelain skin, how everything felt right when he was buried inside her. Equally, he didn’t want her to worry and bringing her the peace she deserved was just as important.
“Then I shall work tirelessly to help you achieve your goals.”
“We could speak to Miss Franklin now,” she said, her eyes flicking to the silversmith shop and the woman at the window. “But we’ll never get away. I cannot help but pity her. It’s why I permit her to idle away hours in my shop.”
“I suspect she’ll be at the window when we return. We can ask then.”
Miss Franklin seemed the pious sort who would wash out her mouth with bar soap if she uttered an untruth. She was keen to foster a relationship between Eleanor and her brother, so why push her down the stairs?
The journey to the solicitor’s office on Fetter Lane took less than ten minutes by carriage. Thatcher’s & Sonsoccupied a four-storey terrace house next to the grocers. The smooth stucco exterior had recently been painted.
“Will you take the lead?” he asked.
“Me? Professional men rarely take women seriously.”
Theo reached into his pocket and retrieved the Home Secretary’s letter. “This will force them to take notice. I’ll intervene if necessary.”
The gesture earned him a sweet smile. “Perhaps if I prove my worth, Mr Daventry will employ me as an enquiry agent.”
A chill ran down Theo’s spine. “One of his female agents was shot at the observatory some years ago. I’d never sleep a wink if I knew you were tackling murderers and spies.”
She looked at him strangely. “My welfare never concerned you before.”
“Everything is different now.”
“Because we’re friends and lovers,” she jested.
“Because I care what happens to you.” Because he realised as he watched her sleep last night that she owned a piece of him. “You’re important to me, Eleanor.”
