Regency Society. Ann LethbridgeЧитать онлайн книгу.
night, I would have quite forgotten to go to Barton and get the thing that you wished me to retrieve.’
She opened her mouth to speak, and he smiled placidly.
‘Please act as though nothing has happened. Remember where we are, your Grace.’
He was right. Throwing her arms around his neck and begging to see it this instant was sure to incite comment. But she could not help the joy that showed upon her face.
He looked at her, smiled back and said, ‘The look on your face right now is payment enough for me. Have you forgiven me for last night?’
‘There is nothing to forgive. It was I—’
‘Shh. Let us hear none of that. May I visit you, later? With your permission, I will come to your house, to return the thing that concerned you so.’
She whispered, ‘I shall leave here immediately and tell my servants to expect you.’
‘You shall do nothing of the kind. No one need know of what has transpired between us. Enjoy your time here, for Esme is a particular friend of yours, is she not? And this is a delightful ball. It would be a shame to go so soon. Return home after midnight, send your maid to bed and wait for me at one.’
She nodded, wondering how he knew of her friendships, for she had not told him.
And he nodded back to acknowledge her assent and led her through the rest of the dance as though nothing unusual had happened, with an occasional comment about the music, the fine quality of the food, and the fact that summer had been uncommonly warm.
But he continued to fix her with the same intense gaze that had unsettled her before.
He was coming to her rooms later, and in secret. She found the prospect quite exciting. And with the way he was looking at her, perhaps he had decided to mix business and pleasure after all. It was not so surprising, she reminded herself. Despite what they might claim to put one off one’s guard, men had needs and would act on them, given the opportunity.
He might say that he was honoured to help and needed no reward, but he had taken great risk to do what she had asked. She doubted that he would deny her or himself, once they were alone. And try as she might, she could not bring herself to be bothered. Why, if Lord Barton’s offer had been so distasteful to her, was she not offended now?
Because she did not want to lie with Barton, as she did with Anthony Smythe.
The thought of them together warmed her blood. She wanted to feel his hands upon her and see that crooked smile in the firelight as he took her. Her stomach gave a lurch at the thought and her steps faltered.
And he caught her hand and led her on, smiling in curiosity at the look that must be on her face, but making no comment.
Very well, then. Her virtue was not as steadfast as she had once thought. And she did miss the touch of a man, just as everyone kept reminding her.
Everyone except Tony.
Perhaps that was why she wanted him so.
The dance ended and she moved through the rest of the evening as if on a cloud. Her home was safe. Barton had no hold on her. And when she retired, she would have Tony.
When Esme saw her again, as she said her goodbyes, she proclaimed her looking better. The food and the dancing must have done her good, for she was in fine colour. Almost blushing.
Constance smiled the secret back to herself and agreed that she was feeling worlds better, and that she intended to retire early. Then she returned home, prepared for bed and sent the maid away. The lawn of her nightdress was crisp and cool against her fevered skin as she unlatched the window and waited for the clock to strike one.
As the bell was chiming, he stepped over the sill, smiling back at the window she had left open for him. ‘Thank you for the small courtesy, your Grace. It is rare to enter in this way and find evidence that I am welcome. Most refreshing.’
‘Did you find the deed?’ She hurried to his side.
‘What? No “Hello, Tony. So good to see you. Lovely dancing this evening…” No preamble. Small talk? Chitchat?’ He grinned. ‘I supposed not.’ He reached into his pocket and brought out a document, which he laid upon her night table. ‘It is exactly as you said. In your husband’s hand, the house is deeded to you. And here is the attached inventory. Put it somewhere safe. Your bank, perhaps. But do not trust it to that young jackanapes that holds your husband’s title. And do not mention it to Barton until you have to. He will know that someone has got into his study and taken it, and you do not want to be associated with other thefts that might occur there. I will be visiting him again, before my business with him is done, and he will be on guard against me.
‘If you can just stall him for a time, he will forget his plans for you, for I dare say he will have troubles enough soon and little time to pursue you.’
She wondered if this might have something to do with the theft at the ball, but was afraid to ask. Instead she looked down at the deed, which need be her only concern. She swallowed. ‘It is such a relief to know that, no matter what, the house is mine.’
Then she looked at him significantly. ‘And I am so very grateful. How can I ever repay you?’ And she leaned close to him in the moonlight and waited for the obvious suggestion.
He smiled. ‘No thanks are necessary. It is enough to know that I have helped a woman in distress.’
‘No thanks. At all.’ She hoped her disappointment was not too plain.
‘I know something of hardship, and of being forced to make decisions that might compromise myself, for the sake of stability. I would not wish it on another.’
‘Many men would take advantage, given the circumstances. You held the deed yourself and could just has easily have used it against me.’
‘But I would not.’
‘I am sorry to create more work for you, when I can do nothing in return for you.’
He sighed. ‘Some day, quite without even thinking, you might do a thing that seems like a trifle to you, but will make all my efforts on your part seem as nothing. Until then, do not trouble yourself. While it would be easy to accept what you are trying to give me, I fear you might live to regret it. If I succumb, in the end you will think me no better than Barton. You are safe now, but if Barton, or any other, should prove difficult, please feel free to call upon me.’ He started towards the window.
She followed him, searching for something that might stay him a little longer. ‘Will I see you again?’
He smiled. ‘It is likely. You have seen me many times before, you know. I certainly knew of you. But we have not been introduced until just recently. Now you know me, I suspect you will not be able to help but run into me again.’
‘I should like that.’ She touched his sleeve.
He had reached the window and then turned back when he felt her touch. ‘I should like that as well. Under better circumstances.’ He put his hand on the sill, ready to lift himself over the edge.
And she remembered the first night, when he had assured her of his character, and hazarded a bolt. ‘Your wife is very fortunate to have such an honest thief for a husband.’
He pushed away from the sill and turned back to her. ‘Wife?’ He looked puzzled. ‘I have none.’
‘But when we first met—’
‘When I was robbing your jewel case,’ he reminded her.
‘You said that you had loved but once, and I thought perhaps…’
He shook his head and stepped back into the room. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and paused to take a deep breath. Then he said, ‘And this is where I admit the truth, and you think me a fool. I’ve loved but once. But she has never loved me. It has been years…We were childhood friends.’ He shook his head again and