They stood for a long, silent moment, a pace apart, staring at each other. He waited for an angry response, a stinging slap, a shriek of outrage. Or perhaps a scream of violation.
Instead, she stared at him with wide, confused eyes, her lips still parted as if the kiss had not ended. Perhaps she was still too shocked to put him in his place. Or perhaps she wanted more.
It did not matter what she wanted. The kiss had been a risky mistake that would grow even more dangerous if it was repeated. For all he knew, his father still bragged about the memory of seducing a beautiful woman. But his mother had not understood that she would lose her life as well as her reputation. If Hope Strickland could not call a halt to what was happening between them, it was up to him. Once again, he must do his job and rescue a member of a noble family from themselves.
This time the service would not just be gratis, it would come at great personal expense to his pride.
He allowed himself a last moment of melancholy pleasure. Then he looked at her and wiped his mouth with his hand as if to rid himself of the taste of her lips. ‘But no matter what my future might hold, I will not be wasting any more time on you than is absolutely necessary.’
‘I...don’t understand,’ she whispered, touching her lips with her fingers.
‘What is there to understand? You are a tiresome little girl who must brag about her dead relatives because she cannot tolerate the perfectly human mistakes made by the living ones. I would not spend five minutes in your company if I was not paid to do so. And I certainly will not be kissing you again.’
‘Did Mr Leggett pay you to kiss me?’ she said, her brows furrowing in confusion.
‘Do not be ridiculous.’
‘Then you did that on your own?’
‘And I will not do it again,’ he repeated, waiting for the rejection to register on her face.
‘Then you had best go,’ she said, still staring at him as her fingertip traced the curve of her lower lip.
He stared back, watching the slow movement of it along the edge of that soft, wet mouth. Then he forced his eyes away and pushed past her, towards the door and freedom.
Chapter Five
It had been one of the most embarrassing and confusing days of her life. It was one thing to hire a discreet agent to help with the family’s financial difficulties and quite another thing to let him see the matriarch unadorned and unashamed, even if it was in oil and not flesh.
The painting never should have existed. But since it did, her grandmother could have spared her some embarrassment by being ashamed, or at the very least modest. And he never would have seen it if they had not been looking for another painting which should have been hanging in its proper place in the family gallery, back in Berkshire.
The whole incident had been mortifying. But if she was honest, Hope had to admit that it had been made even more so by her own behaviour. If she had been as composed as Faith or as oblivious as Charity, Grandmama’s painting might not have bothered her. She would not have become agitated or shrill. She would not have started spouting off about family honour to the point where she seemed vain and condescending.
But then Gregory Drake would not have kissed her.
And what was she to make of that kiss and the things he’d said afterwards? He’d implied that there was something wrong with it. Or perhaps that there was something wrong with her.
Perhaps there was. She had no right to be complaining about something her grandmother had done to please her husband, only to follow it by kissing a man who had not even asked to dance with her, much less wed her. And she had opened her mouth while she’d done it, which did not seem like the sort of kiss a nice girl would give, even after marriage.
Even worse, she had enjoyed it. All of her anger and frustration had disappeared at the first touch of his lips, replaced by something warm and delicious. If she had any criticisms at all, it was that it had ended too soon.
Then, he had announced that he wanted nothing more to do with her. He had stormed out of the house without saying goodbye. But in the middle of the afternoon, a large flat package had arrived containing the painting of the Blue Earl who was every bit as hideous as Grandmama had said. There was a letter attached, addressed to her.
Dear Miss Strickland,
With the Dowager Countess’s more complete description, I was able to locate the appropriate painting with ease. I had but to return to the shop we already visited and request the ugliest portrait available.
I was led immediately to the Fourth Earl of Comstock.
Despite herself, she had smiled. Then she’d continued reading.
After the events of this afternoon, I think it is best that I continue the search for the missing items on the list without your help.
My behaviour towards you in the salon of your home was inexcusable. When I was hired by your family, there was an expectation that I would treat you with respect. In both my words and actions I have failed abominably.
Please be assured that, should I decide to resign from the assignment, I will not be telling Mr Leggett the whole truth of my reason for doing so. I will say that it is too difficult, or too inconvenient for me to finish. Both might be true. But the matter of this afternoon is between us and us alone.
Should I decide to continue, I will solicit the Dowager’s help with the remaining items. It is possible that she will be more truthful to a person outside the family than she has been to you.
