Chapter Twenty-One
“Thank you for your gracious company, Mrs. Chaney. May I hope there will be a next time and that I might persuade you to play for me?” Perry took Grace’s hand and dropped a light kiss on it, making her blush.
“You are too kind, Sir Peregrine,” she responded. “But I would enjoy talking with you again, should you happen to find yourself in the vicinity.”
“You may be sure I shall. Good evening, Ma’am. Miss Ridlington.”
“I’ll see him out,” said Max over his shoulder.
The two gentlemen left the room, and Grace and Kitty stared at each other.
“That was quite a revelation,” said Grace.
“Indeed,” said Kitty. “And I’m still at a loss as to how to connect Miller-James with any of this. Other than his stealing Max’s carriage and damn near killing my sister, what was his involvement? And if he was the perpetrator…no that is completely silly. He wouldn’t risk a damaged carriage to take Hecate off for her seduction. Even he couldn’t be that daft.”
“He might have been, but I doubt it.” Max came back into the room. “We now have an excellent lead to follow, don’t you think?”
Both ladies nodded.
“It’s an odd connection I could never have anticipated,” observed Kitty. “That our investigations have brought us back around to the victim of the accident…”
“Most curious,” agreed Grace, rising from her chair and stepping around the tea table. Perry had stayed for dinner and the four of them had debated the problem, laughed, argued and generally enjoyed a rewarding evening. “But my mind grows tired of trying to find a rational explanation for any of it. Perhaps in the morning…”
“Of course.” Max gave her a hug as she passed.
“Goodnight, Grace. Sleep well.” Kitty sank back into her corner of the sofa. The room was warm, she’d enjoyed a brandy after dinner, rather than share tea with Grace, and the heat from the fire and the liquor united to render her bonelessly relaxed.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” Deery stood at the door. “If not, I’ll remove the tray.”
Max shook his head. “Nothing else, Deery, thank you.”
“Very good.” He swiftly retrieved cups and saucers and turned to leave. “Good evening, sir. Miss.”
The door closed softly, closing Max and Kitty into their own world.
“An interesting day, wouldn’t you agree?” Max loosened his cravat and eased his arms out of his jacket, sighing with relief and shaking out his sleeves.
“I would. Without doubt. Confusing, frustrating and surprising are also words I might use.” Following Max’s example, Kitty daringly kicked off her shoes, wiggling her toes with pleasure on the soft carpet.
“Yes, all of that,” sighed Max, stripping off his waistcoat, tossing his cravat on a side table and undoing his shirt.
Kitty watched him, eager for a glimpse of his skin. She wondered why it was so appealing, then there it was and all questions disappeared from her mind as she simply devoured him with her eyes.
He turned, saw her watching him, and tugged his shirt free of his breeches, letting it fall off his shoulders to the floor. “Lie on the sofa, Kitty. On your stomach.”
His voice was firm, and she found herself immediately obeying. Turning her head on the cushion, she saw him lean down to the hearth and pick up the poker. Her heart stopped for a moment or two. “Wha-what are you going to do withthat?” She was annoyed to find her voice shaking.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m going to poke the fire.”
“Oh.” Feeling quite stupid, she turned her head the other way to hide her blushes. What she’d actually thought he might do…well, she wasn’t sure. But Max was nothing if not unpredictable.
Sure enough, she heard the sounds of the fire being stirred, followed by the thunk of logs being added.
“Now.” He was next to the sofa. “I want you to pull your skirts up for me.”
Kitty’s cheeks heated once again, but obedient to his command, she reached behind her and gathered handfuls of her gown, easing them up and away from her legs.
“Higher.”
