Page 37 of The Viscount's Seduction
“Oh. But Mr. Gibson is here, and he is very respectable.”
He laughed out loud at that. “That must be another Irish notion. The respectable by-blow chaperoning.”
She ought to be irritated but she knew he was right.
“Besides, Bink—Mr. Gibson—left as soon as he felt assured the Smith brothers wouldn’t stab Mrs. Windle on their way out the door.”
Her heart beat faster. They couldn’t yet be gone. She hadn’t given them her money. She pushed up from her chair. “They’ve left?”
“No, no, I looked in on them. They’re snoring away, and Windle is back sitting with them. Bink will return shortly also. He’s arranging a shipment of new nursery furniture to his country estate. The wagon will leave in the middle of the night, and they’ll be on it.”
Her heart eased and then picked up its pounding again.
“But if Shaldon finds them—”
“Don’t worry. Bink will accompany the wagon and be back in a few days’ time. For now, he’s bringing a maid and some clothing for you.”
The loud thumping about her temples must be coming from her heart. He expected her to leave with them. “You’re thinking to send me off to the country also?”
That would mean leaving Lady Jane. It wasn’t right. She’d rather stay and risk the dear lady’s rejection, or even weather Shaldon’s beatings, anything rather than abandon the lady who’d been her only friend.
“No. You’re staying.”
“Then I’ll go home as soon as the wagon leaves.” If Lady Jane was willing to take her back.
She set down her spoon and took a sip of the wine, a hollow sensation making her heart feel small.
“When you spoke to her, was she angry?”
“She should be, should she not?”
Indeed. Hot guilt made her cheeks warm.
He shook his head. “She wasn’t though. She expressed great relief. She’d been terribly worried.”
“Oh.” Tears rushed her again.Damnation.It had seemed such a wise thing to seek out the man who might have information about her brother. Yet, she could have been carved up and thrown into the Thames, and Lady Jane would never have known, all of her kindness to Sirena going for naught.
“What is this?”
She opened her eyes and Lord Bakeley was there, on his knees, by her side.
“I can’t abide tears,” he said sternly, handing her a napkin.
His scent, far too familiar than was proper, rose dangerously around her, threatening to addle her brains more. His hands, broad and strong like a working man’s, gripped the back of her chair and the edge of the table, boxing her in.
She swallowed hard. “Nor can I. I’m not generally a weeper.” She dabbed at her cheek. “There.”
He didn’t budge.
“Lord Bakeley, go back to your dinner.”
“I’ve finished. You didn’t notice me cleaning my dish because you were eating with such relish I thought you’d lick out your bowl.”
She gasped. “I would never—”
“I’m teasing you.” He cradled her chin in two fingers and his eyes gleamed with humor.
Oh, he was muddling her mind. She must concentrate. She must return to Lady Jane and assure her of her safety and sanity.
