Page 42 of Lord Ashley's Beautiful Alibi
No word passed his butler’s mouth.
“Each set of coachman and groom attired exactly the same. The horses—”
“The same breed and color.Si, conte. What time?”
A devilish smile stole over Kane’s face. He appreciated his butler’s insight. “What would you recommend?”
“Three, sir.”
“Three it is.” Kane waved a hand. “I will need two more men with similar responsibilities to the man you currently employ as my… Shall we call him…my shadow?”
Corsini merely inclined his head.
“One man to follow each carriage and report to you. Your choice how that is done, of course.”
“Naturally.” The Florentine was not dazed.
Kane was not surprised.
He frowned at what he now had to tell his butler, hating that this next request was so very necessary. But he would take no chances with Gus’s life, her need to find her friend—or his own need to find St. Antoine.
“I wish the three to remain in service well after I return. Twenty-four hours a day. I never wish to be alone, Corsini.”
With a few strong Florentine words under his breath, the lanky fellow flashed a confident grin. “The finest I will employ. If you are ready,conte, the landau I hired for your ride in the sunshine is waiting in the courtyard.”
Chapter Eleven
Breakfast with Kanewas torture.
He had arrived on time, looking tired but dashing, eager to get on with their ruse. Dressed in a fashionable morning coat and waistcoat of azure shades of blue, he wore cream breeches that fit him to a fare-thee-well. When he strode toward her, Gus could marvel at the play of his thigh muscles and other accoutrements that made her wiggle in her corset.
He was a fit and healthy dream of a man.
Curse him and his easy laugh.
So he knew she admired his assets. Good. She would continue to eat up his calm and delight in the lush prick of her desire for him. It was not like her to care that he was Adonis come to call. More like Zeus, he was, really, filling up the tiny breakfast room with his massive height and weight. Making her fingers itch to sketch his chiseled cheeks and classic profile.
Meanwhile, she became as silly as a thirteen-year-old again. Gazing at naked statues in her father’s gallery. Wondering how long Ashley’s cock would be if he were, like last night, attracted to her. Her mind blanked. Her need to find Amber fled. Her madness to taste his lips had her straining to move them in logical conversation.
But she degenerated into a girlish bundle of nerves. Oh, that would not be so very appealing to a man of the world like Ashley. Damn hissavior faire.
While the butler and a footman bustled about serving them, Kane hit upon the weather. The iced-over Thames had destroyed many ships in December.
Had it, really?
The famine that had struck all of Europe was taking a toll.
Do you think so?
“Prices of grain,” he said with a look of concern for her lack of focus on their topic, “show it.”
“The Seine broke its banks in January,” she offered, like a town crier.
“Did you flee?”
“Flee?”
“The house? The city?”
