Page 91 of Second Duke's the Charm
And that was something he’d told her he’d never do.
“Do you have plans for this evening?”
Tess froze in the doorway to the breakfast room asJustin’s seemingly casual question jolted her from her reverie.
“I’m afraid I do, actually. Daisy, Ellie, and I are going to Vauxhall to see the balloon ascent and Madame Saqui’s rope dancing.”
“Would you like me to accompany you?”
Tess gave an airy wave and tried to keep her tone light. “No, it’s all right. I’m sure you’ll just be bored.”
His gray eyes rested on hers and she felt a guilty heat rise on her skin, along with the sensual frisson his gaze always produced.
“I could never be bored in your company. But if you wish to go alone, I wouldn’t dream of stopping you. Be careful, though. There are always hidden dangers at places like that.”
“You mean pickpockets and drunkards? Yes, I know.”
He tilted his head. “Among other things.”
His cryptic comment made her feel even more uneasy. Was he annoyed that she’d refused his company? What other dangers did he envisage?
“I’ll make sure to stay alert,” she said lightly. “The rack punch there is notoriously strong.”
Would he go to a different party without her? Would he flirt with other women because she wasn’t there? The thought made her irrationally cross. She’d much rather be meeting Justin in the shrubbery for an illicit assignation than a blackmailing printmaker, but the princess’s letters had to take precedent.
Business before pleasure.
Justin kept his expression bland as he watched Tess. He’d felt guilty for asking Simms to retrieve the letter she’dreceived at Wansford Hall from her writing desk, but his guilt had been replaced by anger when he’d read the contents.
He had no idea what the references to a letter, or to a Mrs. King meant, but it was clear that Tess was the “Lady in Red” who was to meet the mysteriousSat Vauxhall.
Was she reprising her role of Scarlet to meet a lover in the pleasure gardens?
Jealousy gnawed at his gut. Had he failed to satisfy her physically? What was she seeking from another man that he himself had not provided?
He’d deliberately kept his distance from her for the past few days, throwing himself into work, and he’d hated it. He’d found himself drifting off in the middle of meetings, thinking of her laughing on the banks of the stream, her eyes sparkling, her hair a beautiful windblown mess. He’d mistakenly confused his banker with his solicitor, simply because he’d been dreaming of her lips.
This had never happened with any other lover. It was if she’d bewitched him, infected his brain so that it constantly turned to her. What she might be doing. When he could see her next.
The power she held over him was disturbing. Last night, when he’d surprised her in the kitchen, it had taken all of his willpower not to keep on kissing her until they were both out of their minds. It had been on the tip of his tongue to invite her to his bed anyway. Not to make love, but just to hold her in his arms.
Which was stupid and irrational. He still couldn’t trust her. Years of negotiating had taught him how to spot when people were being evasive, and she’d had all the classic tells: avoiding his eyes and fidgeting with her hands when she’d spoken of her plans.
Justin ground his teeth. In one way, her meeting a lover would be better than the alternative: thatSwas the person she’d hired to engineer the spate of “accidents” that had been plaguing him. Was she meeting a potential assassin to arrange the next misfortune?
Neither option was good, but whichever it was, he had to know.
Justin had just come into the hall and was laying down his gloves when Tess appeared at the top of the stairs in her red dress that evening.
His heart missed a beat, and it took more strength than he knew he possessed not to bound up the steps, catch her in his arms, and kiss her until she abandoned all thought of leaving him.
He swallowed instead, and sent her what he hoped was an easy smile.
“Scarlet. You look magnificent.”
She stilled, just for a moment, at his use of that name, then continued her graceful descent. “Thank you.”
Could one kidnap one’s own wife?Could he carry her aboard one of his ships and simply set sail? Keep her in his cabin and make love to her,love her, until they were oceans away from dukedoms and intrigues and lovers and accidents? Until they were simply Tess and Justin. Nothing more, nothing less.