Page 38 of If the Slipper Fits
“For pity’s sake, quit acting like a cornered rabbit. You’d think I meant to cart you off to be drawn and quartered. It’s not a crime to pretend to be someone else, darling.”
He lowered his big frame onto the tiny bench to sit beside her, then took her hands in his with exquisite care. “Anna—Glory, tell me what is going on. If you’re in some kind of trouble, let me help you. I’m more resourceful than I look. As it happens, I’ve a bit of experience in aiding damsels in distress.”
And just like that, the bricks she’d begun erecting around her heart crumbled, probably because she wanted so desperately to believe he didn’t—couldn’t—mean her any harm.
She searched his face for any sign of duplicity. He looked so dog-eyed hopeful she almost smiled.
From nowhere, her mother’s oft-repeated words spoken years ago played in her head so clearly they may have been uttered only yesterday—Watch yourself with that Claybourne boy. He might not be in line for the title, but he’s nobility. With them the title always comes first. Even before family.
She sobered, pushing her fanciful hopes concerning Caden aside. His lineage notwithstanding, she dared not place her safety in anyone’s hands but her own. Hadn’t her own step-mother led her into the trap that landed her here?
“You can help by telling me who sent you, Mr. Thurgood.”
“Sent me? Nobody, unless you want to count Viscount Randall when he asked me to accompany Harrison in his stead. Something about a family emergency involving their sister.”
She glared at him. What else could she do?
Caden traced his fingers along her jaw.
Heat curled through her insides.
“You needn’t look so peeved that I worked out who you are. In fairness, I didn’t put it together at first. I only knew I recognized you. Then, last night I asked you where you came from and you bit your lip, and—there goes my ace.” He chuckled, but his joviality seemed forced and did nothing to hide the concern in his blue eyes.
Longing welled inside her, birthing a sliver of hope she could not seem to squelch.Couldshe trust him? How could she possibly know?
He peeled off his gloves, eyes on his task, a crooked grin creasing his cheek. “For your information, when you speak something, shall we say, less than truthful…” He broke off, set his gloves aside, then raised his gaze to meet hers.
“Yes?” She prodded, breathless.
“… You bite your lower lip.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her lip as if to illustrate.
Like a spark igniting a flame, warmth spiraled through her.
“On the way into dinner last night you mentioned one of your father’s sayings, and my memories stirred.My father says thus and suchyou used to say—usually as a means of getting your way, I now recall.
“I still didn’t put it all together, however. Not ’til the moment you told me you came from Durham and nibbled your lip.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall behind them.
He was so handsome, it almost hurt looking at him.
“My memories came back in a rush. A foggy rush, mind you.” He waited, expectant.
She had no words. He remembered her. She should be frightened, and she was. But for some reason, an overwhelming joy blotted out most of it.
He spread his arms. “Come now. Derbyshire? Summertime? Robin-hood and his merry men?”
She was helpless to stop the wobbly smile curving her lips.
Triumph lit his blue-eyes at her silent admission.
Her resistance crumpled. “Prince Charming and the stolen princess, you mean?”
He hooted with laughter. “The very same. Now, kindly tell me what in hell is going on.”
Chapter Nine
Caden didn’t consider himself a particularly gifted man. However, he had been born with one notable skill his father would have paid dearly to possess. He could read people—probably explained his luck at the tables. Mayhap his luck with women, as well.
Now, leaning back against the wall in the chamber where Anna had led him, balanced on a precarious pink settee, he employed his gift, holding his tongue while reading Anna’s inner struggle over whether to trust him with her secrets—or not—all over her beautiful, expressive face.
