So he could help the old widow woman sort out the dusty books. The situation appealed to her underused sense of humor. If she could bear his presence, and since he’d dropped his society mask she found him much more agreeable, then she could watch the play unfold and smile. As a widow she was allowed more leeway than others, and even if rumors came her way, she was safe. Jasper would arrive any day now and then her quietude would be at an end. She would be an engaged woman. “Very well, but not for long. Until you leave.”
“Thank you, Connie. You do me a great service and I won’t forget it.”
She might as well make use of him. “Be warned, Lord Ripley, I intend to work you hard collecting volumes from the dustiest rooms in the house.”
“Alex.”
He must look at all women that way and the gullible thought he did it just for them. More fools they. Connie wouldn’t join them.
* * * *
Alex left the library smiling. If Connie Rattigan thought her plain gowns and quiet demeanor had prevented him looking at her with more than usual interest, she was much mistaken.
Her determination to avoid the house party had intrigued him at first. Then he wondered how she could think of becoming betrothed to anyone belonging to the Dankworth family. Of course he was biased, since his mother’s family were constantly at odds with the Dankworths, but Jasper, in his opinion, was a typical example of the breed. He didn’t deserve her. Glad to find her betrothed absent from the party, he’d looked at Connie and liked what he saw. The more he looked, the more he liked.
Discovering her lair had become an obsession that had lightened the otherwise dull visit. He’d traversed several corridors more plainly decorated and much narrower than the more gracious ones in the main part of the house. But he’d failed in his quest.
So it was ironic that he’d found her by accident. He had been escaping the wiles of Miss Stobart. Running away. He’d wandered into the older part of the house, to explore a little. Like many country houses, this one had been added to over the years. Lower ceilings and narrower corridors than in the modern part of the house attested to its age. He’d ducked into an old library, lined with shelves of books that looked read instead of just for show.
When he turned a corner and discovered the lady facing him full-square, his smile vanished. If he wanted to get past her, he’d either have to retreat or beg her pardon and squeeze past. The narrow corridors that a moment ago had seemed quaint now took on a more sinister aspect.
Another lady chased around the far end of the long hallway, no doubt determined to prevent any tete-a-tete. Good for her.
“Ladies, would you both care to accompany me in a stroll around the gardens?” Acceptable, and he could make an excuse and leave them with each other. Perhaps they’d come to blows. A man could only hope.
Alex considered himself an easy-going man but these two had driven him to distraction. So much that he’d left London and taken up the invitation for a quiet gathering, only for them to discover where he’d gone and follow post-haste. The Downhollands were too genial to turn them away.
Even more reason to pursue the fascinating Constance Rattigan. He’d never met a woman before who drew him as she did. The fact that she was about to be married, or contracted anyway, made her safer than the two women who confidently came forward and took an arm each. Also infinitely better company. She conversed like a sensible woman, and while he tried to be a gentleman, he took note of her luscious figure and her lovely features almost without thinking.
Strange feeling. Must be the Yorkshire air, he decided, as he made the necessary detour to the south entrance, heading for the gardens.
Temptation Has Green Eyes Page 27
