Page 27 of The Trouble with Tigers
He didn’t move a muscle as she stared up into his eyes, twin pools of swirling blue smoke in the lamplight.
Everything inside her clenched. “My lord, I’m very sorry for overhearing—”
“Overhearing?” He arched one tawny brow.
Her shoulders sagged, and her gaze dropped to her boots. He was right. She’d hung on his every word.
She took a bracing breath, and, once again, raised her eyes to meet his. “I purposely eavesdropped on your conversation which was absolutely none of my affair. I beg your forgiveness, but understand if you can’t bring yourself to give it to me.”
“Kit, thank you for your heartfelt apology. Apology accepted.”
She blinked up at him.
And then he smiled. At her. Her heart nearly stopped.
How many times had she fantasized about seeing one of Zeke’s smiles aimed at her? She needn’t have bothered. Real life was so much better.
A moment later, he sidestepped her. “What do you say to a game of gin, my lord? Kit can even join in if you like.”
Kitty whipped around to catch the earl’s eyes. As much as a part of her yearned to remain in Zeke’s presence, her rational side told her not to push her luck.
The earl winked, and nodded once in the direction of the manse.
She flashed a grateful smile and dashed inside. Half in a daze, she passed through parlor and down the marble hall toward the front stairs. She’d thought nothing could be better than seeing Lord Thurgood half naked this afternoon. She’d been wrong.
That smile. To him, it’d meant nothing more than a kind gesture to an irritating boy. But to her—she could live off it for a week.
With a long sigh she started up the stairs, her hand skimming the cool, silver balustrade. For just a moment, she imagined an alternate reality.
She saw Zeke calling to her from the bottom of the stairs. “Kitty, I’ve only been acting. I discovered your secret from the start. Your face is too beautiful to belong to a boy. Come back down here and kiss me.”
A fierce pounding on the front door tore her from her fantasy, and she nearly tripped on the landing. She peered downstairs.
Smethwick hustled toward the front door, an intimidating scowl on his face. Everyone knew no one of consequence called at this late hour.
The butler opened the massive door. He accepted a calling card. Studied it. His scowl softened. “Come in, my lord. If you’ll kindly wait in the foyer? I’ll inform the earl of your presence.”
The man crossed the threshold. He removed his hat and handed it to Smethwick, revealing close-cropped brown hair, a pale face set with gritty determination and a bit of the street.
A man she knew all too well.
She skittered round the bend, pressing herself into the paneled wall lest her legs give out. She gulped at the air, unable to take an even breath. Garrick? Here? How?
An eternity later, Smethwick returned. “The earl will see you now. Right this way, my lord.”
Garrick’s receding boot steps announced his determined march down the hall.
After a long moment, she garnered all the strength she could muster. On rubbery legs, she started down the stairs.
***
“Forgive me if my request seems bold or over-reaching, my lords. But my dear cousin has been missing for some time, and our earlier conversation, Lord Thurgood, fostered a hope in me I can’t dispel.”
Kitty hovered outside the earl’s den. Though she’d missed the start of the conversation, she had no doubt James had discovered her presence in the household. Someone had seen her. Someone had talked.
“You refer to my private conversation with Lord Randall this afternoon?” Zeke asked.
Zeke? How could he reveal anything when he knew nothing himself?
