by Robyn DeHart
“She’s right. But it was certainly fun to be out with all of you.” Meg smiled. “The information we overheard sounded promising. I am most eager to share it with Gareth and see how he thinks we should proceed.”
“Indeed,” Charlotte agreed. “This could be the missing element needed to solve this case.”
“I suppose for that reason, the evening was not a complete loss,” Willow said.
“We mustn’t forget, it was also vastly entertaining to watch dear Charlotte swat all those men away like pesky dock flies,” Amelia said with a giggle.
“Yes, yes, entertaining,” Charlotte said drolly. “Might I point out that you three are not any more tempting to dear Jack than I.” She crossed her arms over her chest, clearly pleased with herself.
“He is proving to be quite elusive,” Meg said.
“Perhaps I’ll invite Detective Sterling over for dinner and see what the Yard thinks about him,” Amelia said. “Care to join us, Willow?”
Willow shuddered. “I don’t believe I will. But I do appreciate your hospitality.”
Their cloaks arrived, and they stepped out into the cool night air.
“The three of us can share a hackney. Meg, there’s no reason for you to ride all over London dropping us off. It’s late and you have a longer ride to get home,” Charlotte said.
“Are you certain? Because it’s no trouble at all,” Meg said.
“No, you go ahead,” Willow said.
“Very well.” She kissed them each on the cheek and then climbed into her carriage. “Good night.”
She must find Gareth and tell him all that she’d learned tonight. She couldn’t ignore the bit of thrill coursing through her at the thought of his seeing her in such a dress.
Gareth was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall when he heard the knock. He glanced at the clock; quarter after midnight. Who else was up at this hour? He was only awake because a certain siren with flaming hair wouldn’t give his mind a single moment’s rest.
He stood and walked to the door, not even bothering to don a shirt. Whoever it was that dared to rouse him at this time of night could very well take his state of undress.
He cracked the door, then opened it all the way when he saw that it was the siren herself. “What the devil are you doing here? At such an hour?”
“I had to see you,” she said.
“How did you even get in here?”
“I told Mrs. Silsby that I had an urgent message for you from my father,” she said.
“And she believed you?”
“Are you going to invite me in, or do I have to stand out here whispering in the hall?” she urged.
He stepped out of the way to give her entrance to his rooms.
“Mrs. Silsby trusts me implicitly. She was our housekeeper for years.”
“This is not the way to keep your reputation intact, Meg. Are you trying to start a scandal?” he asked.
“You’re the one who’s undressed,” she said.
“I was going to bed.”
“Why are you still whispering?”
He cleared his throat.
She removed her cloak to reveal a deep purple dress with a plunging neckline that molded to every luscious line of her body. His mouth went dry, and he became very aware of the fact that he was not fully dressed.
“You’re not fully clothed yourself,” he said, then added, “it’s a nice gown.”
She smiled prettily. “Thank you. We went out tonight to lure the Jack of Hearts, but were unsuccessful.”
“The four of you went out in your fancy gowns to try to tempt a thief?” He chuckled in spite of himself. “Quite risky, don’t you think?” He paused briefly, then said, “that’s a foolish question when it comes to you. It is as if you thrive on the daring and perilous.”
“He never came, so it mattered not. But I did discover another bit of information that might help us with our investigation.”
He knew he should feel grateful. She’d been willing to help him when she scarcely knew him. She’d always believed his innocence. He owed her so much, but instead of feeling gratitude, he felt only annoyance. Irritated that she was in a position to discover such information.
And irritated with himself because if he’d only tell everyone the truth about himself, he too would have such opportunities. But he would never use that name, because to do so, he’d have to take all the responsibility that came with it. That was something he wasn’t prepared to do.
He leveled his eyes on her. “What did you discover?”
“While we were at the concert, we overheard a conversation between two women.” She filled him in on the details of all she heard.
Gareth found himself smiling. She was a clever sleuth. A vaguely familiar feeling constricted his heart. He could have sworn it was pride.
“What do you know of the Leighton Brothers?” he asked.
“Very little.”
“I haven’t heard anyone speak of them here. That doesn’t mean someone doesn’t know something about them,” he said.
“I plan to ask Papa about them tomorrow. See if he knows anything specific. After that, we can formulate our next move,” she said.
Red, springy curls fell seductively around her shoulders, while the rest of her hair was pulled up in an elaborate coiffure. She looked so beautiful, it was almost painful to look at her. It was beginning to get a little uncomfortable in his breeches as his arousal was straining against the fabric.
Draped across her neck was a stunning amethyst; the gem made an arrow to her tempting cleavage. Although he would have found it without the directions. Her breasts rose and fell with her breath and he found he was nearly entranced by their rhythm.
Without giving much thought to the consequences, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her against him. “Did you not think this dress would tempt me, minx?”
He did not give her opportunity to answer before he lowered his lips onto hers. The feel of her body tightly encased in that velvet dress pressed against his naked chest was intoxicating, and he groaned into her mouth.
Her kisses were exhilarating. Soft, plush lips melted with his own and the fire of her tongue shot blood pouring into his groin. God, he wanted her. But to have her, he’d have to continue taking what was not his to take. Gamble with her feelings as if she were nothing more than a game of chance.
He was more like his father than he wanted to admit.
He ended the kiss, but did not step away from her. He held her close to him, breathing in the scent of her hair, his eyes still closed. How quickly she had bewitched him.
“You should go,” he whispered. She must be so confused. Pushed and pulled at his whim. He should apologize, but found no words for it. He wouldn’t touch her again, no matter how tempting. He wouldn’t play with her emotions in such a reckless manner. She meant too much to him now, and he wouldn’t hurt her that way.
She nodded against him.
He grabbed her cloak and helped her back into it. “Is the carriage still here, or would you like me to walk you home?”
“No, he’s waiting for me.”
“Very good. I hear your father is coming back to the factory soon. He must be recovering well.”
She nodded. “Quite well. It won’t be too much longer now.”
She stood there a moment longer. Perhaps waiting for him to say something else, but he was at a loss. And he certainly didn’t want to say something he’d regret. Something he could never take back.
“Good night, then,” she said, then slipped out of the door.
“Good night,” he answered, but the door closed before she could hear.
He’d blamed her dress and he’d once before accused her of bewitching him. But the truth was, none of this was her fault. He had a hard time resisting her, but that was his own damn weakness. A sliver of moonlight spilled onto the floor.
He paced the short length of his room, the wood floor feeling cold to his bare feet. He wanted to tell her the truth about
himself. Wanted her to know about his title and his father and how he’d ruined everything. Wanted her to know that taking the title would destroy him. But telling her would serve no purpose.
There was a truth he could deny no longer. It had started as desire, just his flesh needing to touch her flesh. Then she had awakened a protective instinct within him. But it was more than that now. He didn’t want to put a name to it, but he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t beginning to care about Meg Piddington.
Yet another reason that he needed to stop giving in to temptation. Stop being weak and allowing the desire to pull him over the edge and pull her into his arms.
Meg leaned against the closed door, her eyes squeezed shut. They were playing a dangerous game, both of them. He for reasons he had yet to disclose, and she for her own. She risked so much every time she allowed him to kiss her or touch her. Risked her carefully decided plans for the future.
For every time they kissed, she wanted one more. Every touch he gave, she wanted him to touch her elsewhere on her body. Never was she left satisfied when it came to Gareth. More. She always wanted more. This was the most dangerous of all because she knew if she ever lost her heart to him, she’d never be happy. He could never, would never love her, and knowing that would eventually break down her spirit.
She’d guarded her heart for years against trifling things, thinking that she’d done a good job protecting herself, when in reality, she’d never once been tempted. Not really. Not with the one man who could make her risk it all and who, in the end, would take everything she gave without having anything to give in return.
If she wasn’t more careful, this relationship was going to end in her greatest fear.
Chapter 13
Gareth walked in silence next to Meg as they made their way around the factory grounds. He kept his hands in his pockets and his eyes forward. He’d said nothing when she asked him to take this walk; he’d merely nodded and followed her out the door.
“I asked you to walk with me because I thought you might enjoy some open air. That factory can get dark with the limited windows,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said.
There were so many things he wanted to say to her. So many apologies and explanations, but the truth was, he wasn’t certain he could come up with a good explanation. He’d lain awake for hours last night thinking of their passionate kiss. About the many times he’d pulled her into his arms only to push her away moments later.
He could only hope she knew that he was not a callous man and that he meant her no harm. Their attraction, the pull between them confused the hell out of him. He’d never before met a woman he couldn’t resist. In the past, he’d always been the one to say when and where, always been the one in control.
And while so far with Meg, he’d managed to control when he touched her and when he let her go, he seemingly had no control over the intense desire for her. The lustful need to put his hands on her body and his mouth on hers. So far he’d been able to resist the intense longing to plunge himself deep inside her, but he wasn’t so certain he could resist it much longer. Which was why he couldn’t allow himself even the slightest taste of her lips. Why right now, he stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
He knew she felt it too. What he didn’t know was whether it was unique to him. Would she react as strongly with any man who made such advances on her? Was her flesh ready for any man’s touch, or was it his touch and his alone that left gooseflesh in its wake?
They ended up at a bench at the edge of a pond. It was a ways from the factory, so they were alone, secluded from everyone. It was the perfect spot for a seductive rendezvous, he couldn’t help but notice, but today he would not touch her. Better to end it now before it grew out of control. He’d rather walk away knowing, or at least believing, that she desired him. Walk away before that desire waned and she no longer looked at him with hungering eyes.
It would happen eventually.
“I spoke with my father,” she began. “About the Leighton Brothers. He didn’t know many specifics either. Only that they’re a fairly new confectionery and have been trying several new recipes looking for something that would separate them from all the rest. I didn’t mention the conversation I heard in detail. There is no reason to alarm him of a possible traitor if we discover this has no merit,” she said.
“The Leighton Brothers seem to be quite secretive,” he commented. “What shall we do now? I want to investigate this matter further to discover if the chocolate boxes came from here.”
“I agree, we must do something,” she said. “I’ve thought on this awhile, and I’ve come up with a plan. But you will need to be the one to see it through as I can’t risk being recognized.”
He picked up a fallen twig and began plucking the leaves off it. “What would you have me do?”
“Meet with the Leighton Brothers. Charade as an investor and persuade them to show you the boxes. You’ll be able to determine, on sight, if the boxes are Piddington’s.”
Once all the leaves were removed, he flung the twig into the pond. “Charade as an investor? Do you think they’ll believe me?”
“I’m certain of it. All we need to do is put you in some fancier clothes and you’ll pass for a wealthy investor in no time.” She gave him a shy smile. “You have the arrogance for it.”
He smirked and elbowed her in the side. “Why will they agree to see me if they already have an investor? What did you say her name was?”
“Mildred Sommerset. Even if they have an investor, they certainly won’t turn away another one. I think if you try to schedule an appointment ahead of time, they’ll have too much time to research you. It seems it will be better if you simply drop by because you were in the neighborhood, so to speak.” She stood and walked to the edge of the pond, then turned back to face him.
“Associate yourself with Mrs. Sommerset. Tell them that she was bragging about her investment and how lovely the Leightons were to work with and that you would like to make a similar investment. If they’re as hungry for funding as they appear to be, then they should jump at the chance.” She walked back toward the bench.
“You certainly have all of this figured out,” he said.
She chewed at her lip. “I didn’t sleep much last night.” She met his glance and didn’t look away or say anything else for a moment.
He hadn’t slept last night either. And instead of feeling guilty for causing her such withdrawal, he instead thought of all the sinful things they could have done to each other while awake in the darkest of night.
“It was easy to formulate this plan. I’ve given it a lot of thought and it is my belief that we should follow through with this,” she said.
He considered her for a moment in silence as he fought his urge to immediately agree. He couldn’t help but wonder: did he want to help her because it was the right thing to do or because he merely wanted to spend more time with her?
He suspected it was the latter. But did it matter either way? He wouldn’t—no, couldn’t—refuse to help her. Not when he knew if he refused her plan, she’d develop some other scheme to investigate on her own.
“What do we do first?” he asked.
“We need to go shopping.” She started up the hill as if she was ready to leave.
“Now?” he asked.
“Yes, I believe so. The sooner we can purchase something for you to wear, the sooner you can visit them. Aren’t you ready to move past this?” she asked.
Clearly she was ready. Ready to be rid of him. Ready to be finished with this task she’d taken on. It had been exciting in the beginning, but now it was another burdensome duty for her. She would not say it, she would never walk away until she’d exhausted all methods of proving his innocence, but she was tired of this. He could see it in her weary eyes. Eyes that had once been bright and cheerful and full of challenge, now would scarcely look at him.
He stood and followed her up the hill. “We need to stop by my room so I can gather some fund
s,” he said.
“That won’t be necessary. I have plenty of money.”
“I realize that. But it is your money. I will use my money to purchase my own clothes.” He would not argue with her about this. He would not take her money. He’d taken enough from her as it was.
The newly purchased pants, boots, and jacket were so black, Gareth looked like midnight itself. Unless you glanced up to see the shock of white at his neck, tied perfectly.
“You look…wealthy,” she told him. And sinful. And so desirable, she wanted nothing more than to run her fingertips all over him. She felt the heat of her blush creep up her breasts and into her neck.
He stepped out of his room. “Are you ready?”
Her mouth had gone dry, but she managed to nod. As he helped her into the brougham, she focused on keeping her eyes averted.
She watched the Piddington Confectionery disappear out the window of the brougham, trying to avoid glancing at Gareth’s long legs encased in the tight black fabric. Good heavens. A movement from him caught her attention and brought her eyes to his face.
He fidgeted with his collar.
“Are you uncomfortable?” she asked.
“No. Do you think they’ll believe I’m an investor?” he asked.
It was on her tongue to tell him that they’d believe anything that he told them, but she decided not to. “You certainly look the part.”
He smiled at her.
She sucked in her breath.
“You like this look,” he said. He was quite pleased with himself.
She tugged on her skirt. “You look very handsome,” she said tightly.
“Handsome? Is that all? Because I could swear from your expression that there was another word floating in your mind. Dashing, perhaps?”
“Sinful,” she said in a huff.
He arched one eyebrow. “Sinful?”
“Are you teasing me? Because you are not a teaser. In fact, you have rarely shown signs of even having a sense of humor, let alone that you know how to tease a person. Yes, you look so handsome in that, I’m finding it incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything else. But there is no reason why you must torment me further.”
