‘Were you attempting to kill me or simply knock me out?’ He emerged through the branches, rubbing his temple, typically handsome and windswept—the wretch.
‘If I had been attempting either I would have succeeded, believe me. I dare say it’s no less than you deserve.’
‘For kissing you?’
And just like that she felt the power of that kiss all over again. ‘For being a scoundrel! I am on to you, Lord Gray.’
‘On to me?’ While his face was expressionless, his wolf-like eyes were amused. ‘I see you are still obsessed with my being a chancer and...’ He snapped his fingers as if searching for the right word. ‘What was it again? A ne’er-do-well?’ He stopped dead and stood on the bank a few feet away from her, his hands on his hips as he glanced around, taking in the basket, her dishevelled appearance and then smiling knowingly as his eyes finally rested on the brook. ‘In view of your apparent vehement dislike of me, this is in an interesting venue to choose this morning. The original scene of the crime...’
Foolishly, she allowed her gaze to follow his to the water and immediately pictured him in it. Naked. Shameless. Then the splendid kissing sprang to mind and, to her mortification, a ferocious blush began to creep up her neck. ‘Crime is an interesting choice of word!’ Before he mentioned how naked he had been that fateful morning, Thea decided to vent her suspicions openly to detract him from the blush. People went red with anger, too, although perhaps not in quite the same way. ‘Especially when one is a criminal, Lord Gray!’
‘It’s just Gray—and what the blazes are you talking about?’
‘Horse-breeding indeed? Do I strike you as daft, Lord Gray? Kirton House is not ready for horses and I heard you yesterday! Excise Men turning a blind eye to shipments! Six thousand pounds of ill-gotten gains! You are worse than a ne’er-do-well. It wouldn’t surprise me if you were a smuggler!’
He was silent for the longest time before he threw his dark head back and roared with laughter. ‘A smuggler! That is priceless. I believe Lady Crudgington’s assessment of you is spot on. Your imagination is as vivid as your hair, Thea!’
‘I know what I heard. I have excellent ears.’
‘I know. I nibbled one of them. Sensitive, too. You moaned, if I recall, the second my lips found it.’
‘Stop it!’
‘You’re the one who brought up your ears.’ Those unusual silvery eyes were dancing as he slowly edged towards her. ‘Now I can’t stop thinking about them.’ Nor could she stop her stupid ears tingling with the memory. She had moaned when his lips had found them. Moaned loudly and writhed shamelessly against him. That was mortifying.
‘And stop right there!’ Thea held her hand outstretched, palm out in warning. ‘I will not allow your incessant flirting to succeed in scaring me off or distracting me from saying what you do not want to hear this time! I heard you. Clear as crystal. Discussing an illegal shipment with Lord Fennimore and all those strange men—illegal shipments worth six thousand pounds.’
‘That’s right. I was.’ He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her levelly. ‘It was all anyone could talk about at that inn in Ipswich. Although surely you must have seen the Excise Men yourself swarming along the river that day, too? They were very hard to miss and the subject of much speculation from the locals. By all accounts, the free traders sailed it all into the city as bold as brass only that morning. Although I dare say you can read a better summary in the newspaper if you’ve a mind to? Even in the wilds of Suffolk smuggling is big news. Especially nowadays. After that big trial in the capital a few weeks ago...’
Chapter Twelve
Gray watched her mouth open as if to speak, hesitate, then clamp shut as his convincing lie marinated. Thank the lord he had had the wherewithal to link her accusation to the smuggling trial. A trial which had been all over the London scandal sheets since they had first arrested Viscount Penhurst two short months before. His arrest on charges of high treason, subsequent conviction and sentence of execution had been all anyone could talk about—as only a story about English peers complicit in a plot to restore the hated Napoleon to power could. Penhurst’s brutal murder in Newgate alongside another convicted and titled traitor just a few weeks later by the very criminal gang they had diligently smuggled for had created widespread fear and panic.
As it should have. If those smugglers had been able to get into Newgate, there was no telling what they were capable of. The whole country was obsessed with unmasking The Boss—not just the King’s Elite. For good measure, and to compound her indecision, he decided to drip in a little bit more.
‘Rumour has it, it is the exact same gang of cut-throats that lynched that fellow in Newgate! Who’d have thought they would turn up here—unless here is where the criminal mastermind of it all lives?’ He watched her carefully, looking for clues, and saw only shock at the suggestion. ‘Perhaps this particular corner of Suffolk is not so sleepy after all?’
A delightful crease appeared between her eyes. ‘Perhaps...’ Then she shook her head and refused to meet his eyes. Several seconds ticked by during which she chewed on her lush bottom lip to torture him. ‘I suppose I owe you an apology for jumping to conclusions?’ Although she didn’t look convinced. Gray had introduced doubt, but not conviction. He made a mental note to set the Invisibles the task of making the house look like a suitable place to breed horses as soon as possible, mindful the suspicious minx might well check.
‘Well, if you are going to jump to conclusions, the very least you can do is make them outrageous. I have little time for lily-livered conclusions. Choose a course and commit to it wholeheartedly. That’s always been my motto. Besides, no harm was done. Part of me is supremely flattered you think me that exciting—another part feels duty-bound to respond to your gracious apology with one of my own.’ Best to get it over with. Old Fennimore would only nag him incessantly until he’d fixed things and it wasn’t her fault Gray couldn’t control his emotions around her.
He’d made a hash of things yesterday. First with his stand-offish belligerence brought about by sheer panic and then with his uncontrollable flirting, brought about by lord only knew what. His emotions around her were uncontrollable, when he prided himself on his control, and his normally reliable ability to rise above panic had saved the day on several occasions—particularly now that he was a government spy. Yesterday both attributes had deserted him and he had behaved exactly how he’d felt—terrified of the strange spell she held him under and yet a slave to it at the same time.
Neither would help the mission and, as his superior had vociferously pointed out in loud, clipped tones after the incident at the inn, he was supposed to be befriending Thea and ingratiating himself into her family circle, not making her want to kill him or insulting her with his inappropriate urges. Hiding and avoiding her was a pathetic way of dealing with the situation and after only a week already proving problematic, seeing as they had now collided twice in quick succession despite his best efforts not to.
He was now under strict orders to smooth things over, pour oil on troubled waters and behave like a gentleman going forward. Something he had promised to do at his earliest convenience. That promotion hung in the balance, dangling like a carrot again. If he didn’t make things right, that carrot would soon turn into a hard stick for his permanently disappointed superior to beat him with. For once, he needed to seriously consider the consequences before he allowed temptation to lure him to live in the moment. A depressing thought when every moment with her crackled with promise as well as danger.
After the unexpected and hostile exchange with the woman who seemed destined to be an itch he couldn’t and wouldn’t dare scratch, the King’s Elite hadn’t left Ipswich till after dark last night and had discovered nothing new. A slap in the face when they had learned too late from the Excise Men that The Boss had had the audacity to dock not one, but three ships just outside of Leiston the night before. Hundreds
of barrels of brandy had then been offloaded into carts and smaller boats and at least a quarter of those had sailed brazenly up the River Orwell into Ipswich to be sold at almost the exact hour they had arrived in the place. To know that his associates were there, bold as brass right under their noses while they had been oblivious, galled him. Constantly thinking about her, and that kiss, when he was determined to be a better spy had galled him more.
‘I’m sorry about my flirting yesterday...and for stealing that kiss last week. It’s hardly a surprise you think me a scoundrel when I keep behaving like one. I really have no excuse other than to say you seem to bring out the worst in me and I’ve always had a tendency to act on impulse rather than think things through—as my indelibly stained reputation will undoubtedly attest.’
‘I bring out the worst in you!’ She didn’t appear convinced of his sincerity either. ‘That rather shifts the blame for your behaviour on to me, when I have done nothing to encourage it and repeatedly tried, and failed, to discourage it.’ She hadn’t always discouraged him. She had gazed at him with desire in her lovely eyes, held his hand, wound her arms around him and thoroughly kissed him back. Things a gentleman wouldn’t mention.
‘You are absolutely correct and once more all I can do is apologise and strive to do better in the future.’
‘Again, another lacklustre statement. Striving to do better is nowhere as reassuring as a definitive promise to do better. It gives you a certain amount of leeway.’
He sighed and smiled. ‘All right—no leeway, I will behave myself henceforth.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And I shall limit my flirting to only the social kind rather than the real.’
Her auburn brows came together in a frown. ‘Now you are being pedantic and changing the parameters of your apology.’
‘I’m a shameless flirt by nature and know for a fact I cannot swear I will never flirt with you again. I am only human, Thea, and you are the single most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. You are a huge temptation, make no bones about it, but I shall alleviate a great many of your concerns by being upfront about my intentions—something which I know bothers you. What with you being an heiress and all.’ And him in fear of what remained of his heart. ‘I should like to state, for the record, that any social flirting I send in your direction is harmless because I have too much respect for you to shamelessly seduce you for sport and can’t trust myself not to attempt to seduce you if I risk kissing you again. But as I have no desire to court you under any circumstances, stolen kisses are now strictly out of bounds.’ He drew a cross on his heart with his finger. ‘I am still a gentleman underneath it all and know that courting a proper young lady like yourself should only be done if the gentleman has designs on marriage, which I certainly don’t.’
His completely honest response obviously surprised her as much as it did him, because the previously furrowed eyebrows raised, one disappearing under a heavy spiral of shimmering copper which refused to remain behind the ear she repeatedly attempted to curl it behind. That curl appeared shockingly lonely all on its own and his fingers itched to release every spiral from her coiffure and then arrange them artfully over her naked shoulders and breasts like Titian would undoubtedly do if he had the great fortune to have her as his model. More unchecked, unwise, unwelcome thoughts to cloud his judgement and bring about his downfall. Those invisible cords threatening to control his every movement like a marionette if he allowed them.
‘I’m not altogether sure what you want me to say to that.’
‘Nothing at all.’ Definitely nothing at all. If she confessed to having a similar attraction to him, then no amount of sensible reasoning would be able to stop him from kissing her again until they were both a tangled, breathless heap on the secluded river bank. ‘I am simply laying all my cards flat on the table and proposing a cautious truce.’
‘A cautious truce?’ She had given up trying to tame the curl and stood completely baffled instead. ‘And I suppose I am expected to believe that on the back of it a leopard can change its spots? This sounds like a cunning ploy.’
‘Nothing so devious or so premeditated. I am being honest. Frank. Expressing my limitations and desires plainly, for both our sakes. Because we both know you thoroughly kissed me back and that horrifies you as much as my partiality to you frightens me.’ She blushed prettily, but he carried on before she could deny it. ‘I can’t say I blame you. I am a shameless flirt. A scandal. A tiny bit of a rogue. I am certainly not marriage material nor the sort of suitor a woman like you deserves, so we both have a vested interest in nipping this unwelcome attraction firmly in the bud. Hence the cautious truce. From this moment on I propose we give each other as much space as possible to prevent unwanted temptation. If social engagements throw us together—which they inevitably will—we can indulge in a bit of harmless flirting and nothing more. We must be casual, platonic acquaintances. Polite neighbours. We’ll pass the time and chat if we meet, but never purposefully seek each other out or dally too long in each other’s presence. A clear line has been drawn.’ He swiped the air with his hand decisively and watched her blink in either affront or disbelief.
‘Don’t get me wrong. If I was in a mind to court a woman, you would be exactly the type I would choose. I have always admired intelligent, quick-witted females, especially those that come wrapped in such enticing packages, and something inexplicable about you calls to me and perhaps on a far deeper level than I care to admit. But, alas, my courting days are done and as I have no desire to dabble with the institution of matrimony again—even for a woman as tempting as you—I need to keep you at arm’s length. For my own sake. And you have a reputation to preserve, so cannot go around kissing disgraceful gentlemen senseless. We cannot trust ourselves to be alone together. Well, I certainly cannot trust myself to be alone with you, so shan’t be. Gracious—who knew complete transparency would be so cathartic?’
Aside from following Lord Fennimore’s orders, verbalising his frustrations made him feel oddly relieved. Telling the truth was like lancing a boil and doubtless would result in them feeling better now that they both knew exactly the lay of the land.
‘You have been married?’ Why had he let that slip?
‘No. Almost. Once.’ More honesty which his mouth felt compelled to share in the spirit of the moment and against the express wishes of the cautionary voice in his head. Gray never discussed that part of his past. Not even with his friends. ‘Poor Trefor is patiently waiting for some exercise and I did promise him some vigorous ball throws. Why don’t I escort you back to Gislingham Hall, in a politely platonic and casually neighbourly way, and while on route we can both speculate as to what is happening between your friend Harriet and my grumpy cousin Cedric. Local gossip is perfectly acceptable between neighbours.’
He didn’t dare attempt to offer her his arm, knowing that if she took it he’d want more. She nodded slowly after a moment of thought and they began to walk side by side.
‘What happened between you and the lady?’
‘It wasn’t meant to be.’
‘Ah, she broke your heart, Lord Gray.’ It was a statement, not a question, which meant his expression must have given him away at some point. He hoped he hadn’t appeared completely devastated and, in case he had, became flippant.
‘Into smithereens, Miss Cranford.’ He put emphasis on the formality, hoping it would remind her of their new boundaries.
She was silent for an age, staring down at Trefor as he danced backwards and forwards between them, waiting for the forthcoming doses of affection he always believed were his due. Eventually, she succumbed and leaned down to pet him as they walked. ‘Then you have my sympathy, Gray. I know a little of what it feels like to be disappointed by another.’
‘You do?’ The idea that some blaggard had misused her or broken her heart immediately raised his ire. He wanted to punch the faceless man for having the audacity to hur
t her and had to stop his fist clenching at his side. ‘Are you nursing a broken heart, too?’
‘No.’ She stared off into the distance wistfully before flicking her gaze back to his. ‘My heart has remained blessedly untrampled, but experiences have made me jaded. When one is an heiress...’
‘One becomes the target of every fortune hunter in England?’ Aspects of her character suddenly fell into place and he felt for her. He had never considered how difficult it must be if the shoe was on the other foot. Fate had cursed him with an inadequate fortune which had led to his love not being enough for Cecily. Thea had been cursed with the opposite. ‘Then you also have my sympathy in return. It must be hard to not know whether a gentleman’s interest in you is nought but financial. Money always brings out the worst in people.’ As it had in Cecily. Money and a title. ‘With the clarity which only comes with hindsight, I am strangely glad I lost all mine. I’ve found life much simpler without the burden of it.’
She paused in tickling his shameless dog’s belly to look at him, although this time with openness rather than her customary guardedness or suspicion. ‘It is a burden. One that seems to get heavier with each passing year. Nobody else seems to appreciate that irony. Especially my uncle. He has made it his mission to reinvest the enormous sum he gifted me, believing it gives me independence and freedom, when the opposite is in fact the case.’
An interesting confession that gave him an insight into her situation. ‘I should imagine it makes you very suspicious of people. Men in particular.’
‘Every would-be suitor has fallen foul of those suspicions. Sadly, all justifiably, although perhaps not quite to the outrageous extent my vivid imagination suggests.’ She smiled then, the beautiful smile that took his breath away and made him question his solemn pledge to keep her at arm’s length until he could leave her and those invisible cords behind. ‘Hence you were immediately found to be guilty of smuggling when there are a thousand other more likely explanations for yesterday.’
The Disgraceful Lord Gray Page 14
