Page 84 of The Secret of Flirting
And leave her be? With this matter unresolved? “I don’t care about my responsibilities. I care that I just deflowered—”
“I do not wish to gain a husband who is forced into marrying me.” Her gaze was direct and rather chilling as she gestured for the door. “Go speak to the constable and see ifhemight know who is trying to kill me. Go uncover all the many secrets you excel at revealing. I don’t expect anything of you.” She cast him a wan smile. “All I want is to finish out the masquerade so I can take care of Grand-maman.”
The words carved a guilt on his heart that was nothing like the one put there by his murder of his father. Because she obviously didn’t expect him to behave as a gentleman in this matter and accept his responsibilities. He’d never had a woman think so little of him, and it chafed at him.
“This discussion is not over,” he said. “Don’t think that it is,ma chérie.”
“You should put some clothes on,” she retorted, very much like a wife. She pulled on her chemisette and then her gown, and fastened the latter up hastily.
He shook his head. Despite all the political difficulties involved in this affair, she would actually make him a very good companion. Perhaps it was time to explore ways out of this mess that could result in his wedding her.
“I’ll take care of the constable,” he said. “You might wish to go to your bedchamber and make sure that you are... presentable before the prince arrives.”
He wasn’t sure why he’d said that until she glowered at him. And then he knew. He’d wanted to be certain she was his and no one else’s. That given the choice, she would choosehim.
And now he had his answer. Astonishing how gratifying he found it.
Oh yes, he had a new purpose. Somehow, he meant to make sure that she could be his wife... and that he could keep his career safe in the process.
Because any other choice was rapidly becoming unthinkable.
Leaving the room, he headed downstairs to meet with the constable in the drawing room. He gave the man the same story he’d given the duke—someone had shot at him in London and now in the country.
The constable took careful notes. “I’ll look into it, m’lord, but there’s so much mayhem going on, what with today being Guy Fawkes Day and all, that it could have been just ’bout anyone. You’re sure it was the same fellow as what shot at you in town?”
“I’m sure. One of my guests, the Duc de Pontalba, saw the man from behind and the description matched. He tried to go after him, but the fellow escaped toward Canterbury.”
“Then I should like to speak to this duke, if I may,” the constable said.
“Of course. I’ll have him fetched.”
Gregory opened the door to the drawing room only to find that the prince had arrived, along with, oddly enough, Danworth. Perhaps Lady Ursula had been right about the two men being friends.
“Fulkham!” Prince Leopold called to him. “Thank you so much for the invitation, old fellow. Given that the conference is leaning toward Princess Aurore as a candidate, I confess I was rather surprised to be asked here.”
“We decided to make it a more international group,” Gregory said blandly. “Besides, with your relation Lady Ursula and your good friend Danworth attending, it only made sense to have you as well.”
Gregory noticed that Danworth looked suddenly uncomfortable.
The prince smoothed his features into nonchalance. “Of course, my relation and my... er... friend.”
“I suppose that’s why Danworth went to meet you on the road?” Gregory queried.
“Not at all,” Prince Leopold said. “I merely happened to spot Mr. Danworth as I was passing through your quaint village on my way here.”
“And not the others?” Gregory pressed him.
The prince blinked. “The others?”
“I went into Canterbury with his lordship’s mother and the count this morning to shop,” Mr. Danworth said hastily. “But we got separated.”
Hmm. He would have to ask Mother exactlywhenDanworth had left them. “Well, I do hope my mother and the count return in time for dinner.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s getting late, and I would hope—”
“Lord Fulkham!” said a voice from the doorway of the drawing room. “May I speak to you a moment?”
The way Danworth blanched at the sight of the constable gave Gregory pause. “Of course.”
He walked over to the constable, who whispered, “That fellow there is Tom Smith.”
