Page 12 of The Lyon Returns
A measure of sympathy for the stakeholders with whom she had been negotiating stirred within him. “Let us say at least until you have concluded your business transaction. That is why you chose to enact this farce, is it not?”
Rather than answer his question, she pressed on. “Sir, I’m afraid I really must insist on knowing what is in this arrangement for you.”
“That is my business and need not concern you.”
She did not appear convinced.
“Our marriage allows me the leeway needed to accomplish certain, shall we say, delicate tasks.”
“Delicate tasks.” Her blue eyes searched his face as if she could see into his very soul.
He had assumed convincing her would be child’s play. He could honestly say he had no idea if she meant to give way. One thing was certain, however. Mrs. Barnes of Little Giddingford had a core of steel.
“I would remind you, madam, you are the one who commenced this charade.”
“True. It’s only—You’re not simply having a bit of fun at my expense, before bringing your guns to bear?”
She did indeed have a way with words, his wife. “I am not, no.”
Her shoulders rose and fell in a heavy sigh. “Well, then. I suppose, if we can agree on a few conditions, we might be able to assist one another for a time.”
Gideon opened his mouth to ask what sort of conditions she had in mind when the sound of fierce pounding on the front door of his town house reverberated through the very walls.
“Oh, dear,” Gwen said. “Lord Ashwood, no doubt.”
He glanced toward the door as it opened, and Mr. Higgins poked his shining head into the chamber.
“I beg your pardon for the interruption, sir, but there’s a man here demanding to see you. He claims he’s from the Home Office. I informed him you did not wish to be disturbed, but he was quite insistent.”
Yes, he would be, wouldn’t he? Still, Gideon had not anticipated being hauled in for questioning quite so soon. The Home Office obviously had eyes on his property. He congratulated himself on his decision to stay hidden prior to the alibi provided by his so-called wife. Time would tell if he’d made a grave error returning.
“Very well. Show him into the drawing room. I’ll join him in there in a moment.”
He turned to face Mrs. Barnes, bringing one hand up to caress the length of her upper arm. “You’ll have to excuse me, darling.”
Her eyes widened fractionally, as if she had not anticipated the small intimacy. She’d have to do better than that if they were going to fool anyone.
He went on in a similar vein, even though he’d heard the click of the door closing behind him. “I know I’ve only just returned, but I suspect the agent who awaits me will wish to speak with me in an official capacity at the Home Office’s headquarters.”
“Oh?” Her blue eyes filled with seeming concern.
“I trust you can find something to keep yourself occupied until I free up.” He pulled his gold pocket watch from his waistcoat and checked the time. “Surely no later than dinnertime?”
“Dinnertime?” she echoed. She did not sound overly thrilled by the prospect of dining with him.
“No doubt Cook will make something special,” he said. “After all, we’ve been apart longer than we’ve been married.”Truer words.
She said nothing, just stared at him, her fair brows puckering, as if she wondered how she got caught in this riptide.
He glanced over his shoulder at the closed door, imagining the bureaucrat awaiting him, no doubt chomping at the bit. He did not have time to assuage Mrs. Barnes’s misgivings at the moment.
“Gwen, you mentioned you have possession of our wedding certificate? Where is it, if I may ask?”
His casual query had the effect of shaking her out of her stupor. “I have it locked in a safe deposit box with a few other important documents. Why?”
“I might like to have a look at it.” He might need to produce it, was the more honest reply.
“Easily arranged, sir.”
