Page 45 of Lord Ashley's Beautiful Alibi
Gus licked her lips, and he had to press his thighs together to quell the urge to gather her up and put her in his lap. “Aunt Cecily does not believe one risks one’s life for anyone.”
“I suppose I should applaud that. But I don’t agree.”
“Some things are more important.”
He considered her. Beautiful beyond any woman he had ever seen, raised to be a queen of Society, and she valued her friend enough to risk her life to find her.
“When will you tell her?” he asked, because he could see she fought sharing a thousand other things with him.
“The day we leave.” She examined his face as if memorizing his every line. “When do we go?”
“Three nights from now. In the early morning. We leave from my house. You should arrive around nine. Say you’re going to dinner at a friend’s house. But the carriage you take from your aunt’s will be one I send for you. He will be at the kitchen entrance at ten minutes before nine. Bring as much as you think you can easily carry in one reticule.”
“We’re not being fashionable.” She smiled at him, haughty and happy and hellishly stunning.
“No. Bring breeches.”
She pressed a hand to the wealth of her ripe breasts. “I am shocked, sir, you think I own a pair.”
“Of course you do,” he said, and got up and moved to sit beside her. “A woman who rides early in the morning with few clothes rides later with only a few more.”
She laughed. “She does! I like a good game of chess, too.”
“Not this vingt-et-unthat Bonaparte and Josephine like?”
“No,” she said with pride.
“I am sorry.” He shook his head. “You do not want to play me.”
She was game to fight him. “Think you’re good, eh?”
“I am.”
She preened. “I, sir, am better.”
“How do you know?”
She arched a challenging black brow. “I have proof. I play for money.”
He feigned shock. “You gamble. Tsk-tsk. I should have known.”
“A woman needs coin for lace and ribbons.”
And, he’d wager, for something more precious. He reached for her hand in her lap and put it in his. “I’ll play you for money.”
Her large green eyes drifted to his mouth. Her fingers tangled with his and skimmed the wool of his flies. She breathed deeply, her eyelids fluttering as she said, “Yes. To pass the time when we are not traveling, let’s.”
“A deal,” he declared, knowing full well her mind went to items that were not coins, but the wealth of his jewels beneath her fingertips.
She shook herself and drew away, though her gaze seemed stuck to his. “Have you any details of where we go?”
“To the northeast. I have not finalized the details. It takes time to prepare such affairs.”
“You know France well.”
“I do.” He toyed with her long fingers and brought them to his lips.
*
