Page 23 of The Danger of Desire
As soon as they were outside, she released his arm and stalked ahead to the garden. He followed at a leisurely pace. With five brothers, he’d learned early on how to draw out the suspense, make them nervously await his pronouncements. Miss Trevor might be a woman, but the same tactics applied.
Which was evident when they entered the garden and she rounded on him. “Why are you here, my lord?”
Time to put his cards on the table. “To ask you about Jack Jones, of course.”
Though she blanched, she held his gaze. “I don’t know who that is.”
“Don’t play games with me, Miss Trevor. I recognized you the moment I saw your pretty blue eyes at Dickson’s last night. And you had Owen with you, which helped. I gather that his name was the inspiration for Mr. Owenouse, your supposed Welsh farmer suitor.”
She glared at him. “You’re quite mad, do you know that?”
“Not as mad as you, to be risking certain ruin by dressing as a man and gambling in the hells.”
Whirling on her heel, she marched off down the path through the garden. “I have no earthly idea what you mean.”
He strode after her. “Don’t try to play me for a fool, Miss Trevor. You and I both know you’ve been masquerading as Jack Jones. My question is, why?”
“What a fascinating tale you spin,” she said sweetly. “I can’t imagine how you would think that I’m some dirty gambler.”
Ah, he had her now. He halted her with a hand on her arm. “I never said that Jack Jones was a gambler, much less a dirty one. I said I met him in the gaming hells.”
She blinked, then said in a hollow voice, “Isn’t everyone in a gaming hell a gambler?”
“Hardly. There are hangers-on, servants like your Owen, and those who come to take advantage of the free ale and wine. As you well know.”
“I don’t understand why you persist in thinking—”
“I wonder, if I ask your aunt about your ability to play cards, will she enlighten me? I’m sure she knows how good you are.”
Miss Trevor turned on him with panic in her gaze. “You can’t speak of these ridiculous theories to my aunt.”
“I don’t want to, but I will if I must.”
She huffed out a breath. “Why, for heaven’s sake? It’s none of your concern!”
“I hate to see a young lady of good family with respectable connections risk her entire future for... what? The thrill of the game?”
“Don’t be absurd.” She snorted. “The game is what ripped our family apart. I wouldn’t be playing at all if not for Reynold.”
“So you admit that you’ve been playing cards at Dickson’s as Jack Jones.”
Her gaze shot to him. “Fine.” She tipped up her chin. “I admit it. I am Jack Jones.” Laying her hand on his arm, she looked up at him with a plea in her eyes that fairly slayed him. “And if you reveal my activities to my aunt, you will ruin everything. So please tell me what I must do to keep you from making an utter wreck of my life.”
Seven
Delia could actually see Lord Knightford’s temper flare—the frozen look in his eyes, the thinning of his lips. Odd, how she’d begun to notice those signs. Probably because he’d been meddling so much in her affairs in the past day.
“I am trying tokeepyou from making a wreck of your life,” he bit out. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for a woman to go into the stews alone—”
“I’m going as Jack Jones, not a woman. And not alone, either. Owen is there to protect me if anyone gets too close. He does an excellent job of it.”
“Someone will recognize you eventually.Irecognized you.”
“Because you danced with me yesterday! That’s all.”
“That’snotall. Aside from the fact that you’re too pretty to pass as a gentleman if anyone looked closely, you don’t have the derriere of a man. It’s far too shapely, and those trousers are rather tight for you.”
That took her aback. He thought her pretty? Really? And he’d been observing her backside in trousers? Oh, Lord.
