Page 4 of A Talent for Temptation
“Of course I’m grateful, but it’s odd that you just happened along after I told you I couldn’t see you tonight. Didn’t you get my note?”
“I did. That’s why I rushed over, hoping to catch you before you left for your ‘other engagement.’ ”
“Ah.” Her face cleared. “So itwasyou I spotted outside before that villain’s coach pulled up.”
She’d seen him? Hell and be damned. “Er . . . yes, I suppose.” Best to gloss over that before she figured things out. “So, do you always have a knife with you?”
She stared grimly at his arm. “Yes.”
“So all those times you and I were entwined in the dark, you—”
“Yes, yes!” she said, a hint of desperation in her tone. “Now be quiet and conserve your energy until I can get the bleeding to stop.”
Hewasbeginning to feel a bit light-headed, but that had nothing to do with loss of blood. He always felt light-headed around Meriel.
But why? She wasn’t rich or of high rank, the two qualities everyone seemed to think essential for his potential spouse. And she had no facility for mathematics whatsoever, which, as a banker, he considered a deficit in anyone.
No one would call her a beauty, since her features were slightly irregular, making her more arresting than handsome. Some would even call her plump, though he preferred a bit of flesh on women, so that didn’t bother him.
Yet somehow she’d crept under his defenses, with her sandy curls and her gray eyes and her lush mouth that sent his pulse hammering whenever she flashed him her Mona Lisa smile. She was clever and witty and bold, a combination he found utterly intoxicating.
Just then, the butler came in bearing a huge chest and set it on the floor in front of her. He glanced at Quinn’s bloodied shirt and turned ashen. “Do you wish me to help you . . . er . . .”
“No need, Nunley,” she said. “I know what the sight of blood does to you. I have matters under control.”
“Excellent.” He averted his gaze from Quinn. “Though I would feel better if we could catch the villain who did this.”
And Quinn would feel better if they couldn’t. “The fellow is long gone, I’m afraid.”
“Did you see his face? Recognize the carriage? Anything?” Meriel asked.
“No,” Quinn said. “It all happened so fast.”
“I suppose the master wouldn’t want the police involved,” the butler said.
“No,” she said.
That was strange. Granted, Quinn was happy she wasn’t going to the police, but he would think that an abduction would generally warrant such a thing.
“Only Gregory will know how to find the villain, since he’s the one who might know why it happened,” she said, “but he’s not returning until very late.” She let out a heavy breath as she opened the chest to reveal a number of suspicious bottles and nasty-looking implements. “Oh, well, it can’t be helped. I’m sure Mr. Raines won’t mind returning in the morning to answer Gregory’s questions. He may have noticed more than he realizes.”
Wonderful. Now he’d have to lie to Fulkham, too. Then again, that would give him an excuse for hanging about tonight. “If you wish, I can stay until Lord Fulkham returns. You don’t want the villain to escape because we waited until morning.”
“Yes, that would be best.” Meriel glanced up at the butler. “Be sure to send Gregory in when he gets home, whenever that may be.” She met Quinn’s gaze. “I’m happy to look after my rescuer until then.”
Nunley got an odd expression on his face. “Of course, madam.” He headed for the door.
“Oh, and Nunley?” When the servant looked at her, she blushed inexplicably. “If you would just close the door on your way out . . .”
His lips tightened into a line, but he nodded and did as she asked.
That cheered Quinn. She’d made it so they could be aloneandprivate, which proved he still had a chance with her. Between that and her blush, things were looking up.
With a certain softness in her eyes, she stopped pushing on his arm. “I think you’re no longer bleeding.” She removed a pair of scissors from her apothecary chest and proceeded to cut off his shirt.
“I knew you were eager for me,” he teased as she bared him from waist to neck, “but this is taking matters a bit far, don’t you think?”
“How can you joke?” With worry beetling her brow, she surveyed his arm. “You’re hurt, and it’s all my fault.”
