“It’s a blessing that you heed somebody, sir!”
“What a low opinion you have of me.”
“Hardly surprising after our previous encounter.”
He really should have apologized, but better by far if she despised him. “I promise not to assault you in the cab,” he said.
“You’d be most unwise to attempt it.”
Without waiting for a response, she set off down the stairs. He followed, damnably tempted, despite everything. But then he saw the woman waiting for them, plain clothing and demeanor declaring her to be some sort of lady’s maid or companion.
She was as tall as her mistress, but more broadly built, and not in a feminine way but with mannish jaw and shoulders. Black gloves covered very solid hands. He appreciated Lady Ariana’s warning. This creature could be a female pugilist if she wished.
“Lord Kynaston is to escort us, Ethel. My lord, this is my companion, Miss Burgis.”
Miss Burgis dipped a very slight curtsy, not trying to hide guarded hostility.
Good.
Do your job.
He inclined his head, then summoned the hovering footman and sent him for a hackney. By then his valet stood ready to assist him into his greatcoat. He pulled on black gloves and set his beaver hat on his head, aware of the difference short hair made. The hat fit better, but it felt strange. He should have summoned a barber sooner, but he’d felt that losing his locks would be some sort of Rubicon, with only disaster on the other side.
Shades of Samson?
Was Lady Ariana Boxstall his Delilah? If so, what destruction would follow?
He caught her frowning at him. She instantly looked away, but he was bruised by her concern. What was he to her, or she to him? She’d be gone from this house in a few days—off on her husband hunt. May she soon be safely shackled.
The carriage arrived and they all left the house. Miss Burgis climbed in unaided. He handed Lady Ariana in, asking, “The address?”
“Twenty-nine, Burlington Street.”
He gripped the edge of the door to keep his balance.
“Is that not a street?” she asked, concerned. “I’m sure that’s what—”
“It’s a street,” he said.
It was no great matter. Just one more trial in a sequence of them, and all must be endured. He repeated the direction to the driver, then entered the carriage.
Miss Burgis had taken the backward-facing seat, as a servant should, but that meant he must settle down beside Lady Ariana. It shouldn’t disturb him, but as the carriage moved off, he accepted that it did. She was an alluring woman and, despite her height, beguiling in a very feminine way. Her lips were full and soft, demanding to be kissed. She was shrouded in dull outer clothing now, but he could remember from the day before that she had a magnificent bosom.
He still wasn’t immune to such things.
Alas.
The silence was becoming uncomfortable, so he asked, “You are to visit Mr. Peake?”
She turned her head to look at him. “You know him?”
“I know of him.”
“Is he a famous eccentric, then? He’s the great-uncle of a friend, and she tells me he has many curiosities from the East, as well as the Egyptian artifacts.”
An eccentric. Perhaps the house would be completely changed. That would be a blessing.
“He’s a nabob of sorts,” she continued, “and spent most of his life in the East, returning rich.”
