Page 11 of The Danger of Desire

He’d never heard such a grudging thank-you in his life. Bloody ungrateful female.

When he stared hard at the servant, she apparently realized that she should explain. “This is one of my late brother’s footmen. He had a message for me from my aunt, so we moved aside to discuss it privately.”

“I see. That must have been some message.”

“Oh, my aunt is full of demands,” she said with a wave of her hand, “all of which require deciphering.”

“Well, then, if you’re done, I should be happy to escort you back to the breakfast.”

She paled. “Actually, Aunt Agatha is not... er... feeling particularly well, so I believe we’re going home. That was what Ow— That was whatwewere discussing.” With a quick nod, she added, “Again, thank you for your kindness, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the breakfast.”

Then she headed up the path, accompanied by the servant.

Warren followed at a leisurely pace, enjoying the swing of her full hips, which must be the “curves in the wrong places” she’d been referring to. But he appreciated a fine, plump bottom, so he enjoyed watching hers. Plus, his walking behind her seemed to agitate her, since she kept casting furtive glances back at him and increasing her pace.

Good. Whatever she was up to seemed decidedly unwise, and he hoped he’d made her think twice about it.

They reached the party once more, and she headed off at great speed toward her aunt. Meanwhile, Clarissa headed at great speed towardhim.

“Well?” she asked in a terse whisper as she reached him. “What do you think? Isn’t she behaving oddly?”

To put it mildly.

But he wasn’t about to say that to Clarissa. For one thing, Edwin would shoot him if he allowed Clarissa to become involved in midnight meetings and roguish doings. For another, he could handle this on his own. He would simply wait outside Lady Pensworth’s town house tonight, confront the lovers as they met clandestinely, and make sure the fortune hunter stopped playing with Miss Trevor’s heart and reputation.

“She’s behaving no more oddly than other young women in love,” he told Clarissa.

A frown creased her brow. “That’s not saying much.”

“True. But she seems a rather sensible sort.” Or she had when he’d first met her, anyway.

“She is, most of the time. But apparently she took her brother’s death very hard, and her aunt says she hasn’t quite recovered from it, even though it’s been almost a year since it happened.”

“Do you know if she has any suitors at home in Cheshire?”

“She’s never mentioned any. Why?”

“I wanted to rule out the possibility that some unworthy fellow followed her to London.”

“If he has, I’ve seen no evidence of it.”

“And does she speak fondly of her home?”

“Not at all. In truth, she seems eager to remain in London as long as possible.”

So she could meet with her secret suitor. That made sense.

Clarissa let out a breath. “I just don’t want her to... to...”

“I understand. I’ll do some asking around at the club and see what I can find out, if that will make you feel better.”

“It will, thank you.”

He chucked her under the chin. “Now stop worrying and come dance with me. If you’re up for it.” It would take her mind off Miss Trevor.

She brightened. “I’m always up for a bit of dancing.”

They headed for the lawn, and by the time they had taken their places, Miss Trevor seemed to have vanished. That was all right. Let her enjoy her last hours believing that she was the mistress of her own fate.