Page 16 of An Affair with a Notorious Heiress
He merely smiled, the scamp.
“I assure you Annie knows her duties and will see to them,” she said pointedly.
“I’m certain you’re correct.”
She watched him easily mount his beast and trot away. It wasn’t fair he should look so marvelous riding—riding, walking, sitting, damn him.
She should warn her sister off. The man was far too dangerous. He could easily capture Gina’s heart and then she would have to spend the remainder of her life knowing other women yearned for him. For how could any woman not want to be with a man of such confidence and charm?
That charm was a problem. She could easily envision him directing it Annie’s way, convincing her to be less diligent in watching the couple—and Gina with her hopeful heart would see it as an adventure to scurry off to some darkened corner of the theater for a kiss, a kiss that if discovered could ruin her reputation and her future. Blast the man. He was too smooth. She didn’t trust him.
She marched through the gardens, into the residence, and up the stairs. With a balled fist, she knocked on Gina’s bedchamber.
“Come,” her sister trilled.
Opening the door, Tillie stepped into the room. Gina sat at her dressing table, her maid holding up Gina’s hair in the midst of styling it. Yes, Annie was far too inexperienced to handle the likes of Rexton. “I’ll be attending the theater with you.”
Gina’s eyes widened and she grinned broadly. “Wonderful! What changed your mind?”
“I simply decided you were correct. I need to observe Rexton in order to determine if he will do right by you.”
“I’m so relieved. Annie has never been involved with men. She knows little of their ways.”
Whereas Tillie knew far too much.
Rexton knew he was a scoundrel, a rake, a rogue with his attempt to manipulate Lady Landsdowne into accompanying them to the theater this evening. He didn’t know why he wanted her there. Her presence didn’t serve his purposes. He needed to focus on the girl, not the woman.
Guilt over his using Gina for his own gain prodded him to stop at the confectionary shop where he purchased a dozen chocolates with jellied strawberry centers to be delivered to Gina later in the morning. Even though he wasn’t seriously courting the young woman, he’d had no business seeking out her sister in the park. If they’d been spied together, it wouldn’t have gone well for either of them. Her reputation would have been blackened further because no one would have deemed their encounter innocent. His being involved with the sister of the woman he was supposedly courting would have brought into question Gina’s appeal as a prospective wife.
He knew the uncle well enough to know he wasn’t a fool. Their arrangement had to be followed precisely. Hammersley wasn’t going to give up the stallion unless Gina had a viable suitor. It might be worth it to determine who would make a viable suitor.
The problem was he liked the girl well enough and he didn’t want to saddle her with someone who wouldn’t appreciate her, was more interested in her money than her. He cursed Lady Landsdowne for making him care, for making the task more challenging than it needed to be.
With the chocolates ordered, he rode his horse to a less affluent part of the city. Dismounting, he dashed up the steps and pounded on the door of a modest townhome. It was opened by a man who was two inches taller and a bit wider than he. His bleary-eyed look told Rexton he’d woken him up.
“What the devil are you doing here?” Jamie Swindler asked.
“I have some excess energy. Thought you might help me burn it off.”
Jamie scrubbed his hands through his thick, dark hair. “I had a late night in Whitechapel. I’m in need of sleep.”
“Come now, constable. You need to keep your fighting skills sharp. Can’t have the degenerates taking you down.”
“You have a point, I suppose. Let me have some coffee first.” Jamie was always in the mood for a solid round of fisticuffs.
Half an hour later, they were in the garden behind the house, shirts off, boxing gloves on. When Rexton had needed to learn how to fight in order to deal with the bullies he encountered at school, his friend had served as his sparring partner when Jamie’s father, James Swindler the elder, had given him lessons.
Now Rexton jabbed at him. Jamie feinted to the left, delivered a glancing blow to his shoulder as Rexton jumped aside.
“What’s her name?” Jamie asked as he circled around, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Who?” Another jab, another miss.
“The woman you can’t have.”
The blow to his midsection nearly had him dropping to his knees. The statement had momentarily stunned him, and Jamie had taken advantage. Not that he blamed him. He’d have done the same. He straightened. “Why would you think that’s an issue?”
“Because you usually burn off energy with a willing female. I’d also wager you saw her this morning. You’re decked out awfully fine for an early morning ride. Your handsomest horse is tied out front. Your nails were recently buffed, probably within the last few hours.”
