Page 49 of The Lyon Returns
He smiled his crooked smile. “Theon ditis, the Home Office will close the investigation now you’re back and married. Hopefully the insurance company’s investigation follows suit. My wife’s spending has me nearly bankrupt.”
Gideon snorted. “Your wife? Say, is that a new suit?”
Gold rings flashed as he smoothed both hands over an expensive-looking brocade waistcoat. He sent Gideon a wry grin. “Not everyone has your mystique and can pull off austere black, Gideon. We mortals must find some way to compete.”
Chapter Thirteen
Soon after theevening meal, Gwen excused herself, retiring to her chambers. This time, when Clara arrived to assist with her toilette, she dismissed the maid out of hand, although she did not refuse the steaming basin of sweet-smelling water.
She did not think it proper for her to strip out of her dress and underclothes again before visiting Gideon’s chamber and she suspected Clara would find it odd if she did not. After the spectacle they’d made of themselves today outside Gideon’s den, casting doubt on their supposed attachment to one another would be counterproductive.
She sat at her vanity and removed her stockings. Wriggling her freed toes, she closed her eyes and, for what seemed the hundredth time, relived the kiss they’d shared. His mouth, slanting over hers, searching and achingly tender, had not felt like any sort of act though she comprehended he’d orchestrated the entire event.
Still. She’d never been kissed like that in her life. Reggie’s kisses had been…not like that. And Mr. Landry—No.She did not want to think of what had occurred with him.
Setting her stockings aside, she padded to the basin and dipped a hand towel into the steaming water, then bent to scrub it over her legsand feet, enjoying the delicious warmth.
Gideon’s kiss had made her feel…She couldn’t precisely say.Goodwas certainly one word to describe the sensation, andwarm.Very, very warm. And rather excited.And…aware?
Yes. Aware—of Gideon and nothing else. In fact, she’d all but forgotten he had commenced the business with an audience in mind.
She straightened and set the soiled towel on the cart. Several hours had passed since the incident, and, oddly, shestillfelt hot inside, almost feverish, not to mention jittery. Throughout dinner, concentrating on anything other than that kiss proved a struggle. Now, too. Perhaps she was coming down with something.
Perhaps.
Unfortunately, she rather suspected she was developing a fascination for Gideon. A most ill-judged notion. Nothing good could come of that.
She soaked a fresh towel to wash her neck and décolleté. Allowing the warm water to trickle down her back and under her bodice, she forced herself to contemplate her more pressing concern—how to explain her knowledge of Gideon’s youth of which she’d boasted to Brice.
She really had no choice in the matter. She would have to be honest with him.
Moving back to her vanity, she chided herself for giving in to the impulse to open her mouth. Why had she?
She removed the beautiful combs Amelia had gifted her, set them on her vanity with care, and reasoned her outburst had been intended to prove to Mr. Tyrell that she and Gideon knew each other, and that he’d shared details of his life with her. But…that was not the only reason.
Stroking her silver brush through her hair, she silently admitted she had taken an instant and unfair dislike of Gideon’s friend because, for some odd reason, his mannerism, perhaps, he brought to mind Mr.Landry. Though she had not seen the man for years, everything in her had recoiled at the unpleasant reminder.
She scooped her hair over one shoulder, braided the length of it, then extinguished the wall candles, and made her way to the dividing door.
Gideon opened theadjoining door and inhaled the pleasant scent of doused candles, underlaid with same elusive floral aroma he’d noticed last night.
“Hello again.” Her voice had a breathless quality that had his skin prickling with awareness.
She’d left a lamp burning in her antechamber and the soft glow provided enough illumination to tell him she had not changed from her evening dress as she had last night. No doubt that meant she also wore the accompanying ensemble of undergarments.
Squelching an indecorous pang of disappointment, he told himself he was grateful. Very grateful. It meant he would not find himself distracted by the enticing outline of her body again tonight.
Keep telling yourself that, Devereux.
“Good evening, Gwen. Come in.”
She crossed the threshold and made for the same armchair she had chosen the previous night. She sat, arranging her skirts with a grace of movement that belied the unflattering, high-necked gown she wore. Navy, tonight, which, at least, suited her coloring.
“You implied earlier you wished to discuss something.” As she spoke, her voice pitched higher.
“Yes. Several things, in fact.”
“Such as?”
