Too shocked at her reaction to his kiss to face the man, she called out over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Morgan.”
William escorted her back to the carriage. Once inside, she leaned back into the welcome darkness. Her cheeks were still on fire from where they had been caressed. She ran her tongue along her lips; he had tasted like whiskey. Her heart still raced from the panic that initially flooded her when Morgan had pushed her up against the wall. The strange part was the panicky feeling of being trapped had burned away quickly as her senses had been taken over by, well, by him. The sizzle of attraction between them was unexpected. And dangerous.
The carriage began to sway as they started for home. The evening hadn’t gone exactly to plan. But the unexpected turn of events had given her more than enough excitement for one night.
Chapter 12
Lady Caroline Langdon was one hell of a woman. Cage stared across the great expanse of lawn to where she stood with a group of her friends. Her hands moved animatedly, and her friends laughed at whatever tale she weaved. She wore a gown of pale spring green today. Her dark, glossy hair curled and piled high showcased the long lines of her elegant neck. Observing her in her milieu, here at Lady Davenport’s garden tea, he could easily mistake her for just another hothouse flower of the ton, delicate, sheltered. He would be so wrong.
Her beauty was surpassed only by the fire that had bubbled up from her soul as she vented about the injustice done to prostitutes. Her eyes had burned with indignation. His lips quirked. He would have paid good money to watch her march into a brothel and plunk down payment to free one of the girls. Her brashness was magnificent. How had she done it? To say it would have been dangerous, even with that bodyguard of hers, was an understatement. He took a sip of his whiskey. The welcome smoky fire of it rolled down his throat.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. Tasting those luscious lips had been a mistake. There were a host of reasons he shouldn’t be thinking about her lips at all.
First, of course, was that she was an assignment. An assignment he would bungle if he couldn’t keep her safe. How was he supposed to know she would be gallivanting off to Covent Garden in the middle of the night? And not for the first time. Paying brothel madams to release girls to her custody? Good Lord, if Gilchrest knew, he would lock his sister in a bloody tower. The responsible thing to do would be to tell her brother. But he was reluctant to do so. It would be a damn shame to lock up a spirit like hers. What Cage needed was an ally, someone she trusted with her plans. Then he could find out when and whereto watch her. God knows that list of her social obligations was only half of what she was up to.
Damn it; he needed to focus on findinghisown sister. His search for Grace had reached a dead end. He must figure out another way to pick up her trail. The fastest way to get this job with Lady Caroline done was to focus on narrowing down the list of suitors who wanted to see Caroline Langdon dead. Once he solved who was writing the letters, he could stop following her about. Then her irresponsible behavior would be back to being her family’s problem.
Speaking of dissolute lords, he spotted Danville standing with Lord Tennyson and Lord Benson by the buffet table. Cage had crossed Danville off the list after the Denbury party last week. His perfectly amiable attitude at the news of Devonshire’s interest in Caroline didn’t speak of acrimony. However, Lord Gaylord’s bitter comments had set off an alarm for Cage. He had moved him to the top of the list. Also off the list were two men he discovered were out of the country. That left five unknowns. He should go over and get a feel for Tennyson and Benson’s attitudes about being jilted.
As Cage made his way through the tables that dotted the veranda, he saw Lord Devonshire arrive at the top of the stairs leading from the house. As the butler announced him, the man scanned the crowd with sharp eyes. Cage twisted to see where Devonshire’s gaze had landed, and sure enough, Caroline Langdon was the object of the man’s attention. Devonshire made a beeline for the knot of ladies Caroline stood among.
Caroline spotted him and glanced around as if looking for an escape. Then her shoulders straightened, and her lips turned up in a polite smile. Devonshire bowed low to the ladies with one leg stretched out as though he bowed to the queen herself. The fans of several of the ladies fluttered in response, but Caroline did not look amused. Cage chuckled.
“Lord Wrotham! How goes it?” A loud cheerful voice came from his right.
Cage turned, “Ah Danville, how are you?”
“Would be better if I had some brandy,” he grimaced. “But the wife frowns on me drinking during the day.”
“That’s what you get for getting shackled, Danville.” Tennyson walked up with Lord Benson. Both men had small plates of cheese and pastries.
Danville just shrugged. He looked more resigned than upset at the barb.
Lord Benson shot Tennyson a frown before addressing Danville. “Your wife is right to guide you away from the excesses of drink.” Then he took a large bite of an apple tart. The powdered sugar drifted from his mouth down onto his black waistcoat.
Cage smiled at both men. “I am happy as a bachelor.” He took another sip of his whiskey. “And Tennyson, what about you? Don’t you intend to beget an heir and all that?”
Tennyson smirked. “Eventually. My future wife has to have all the right assets, if you know what I mean.” His eyebrows waggled up and down. Then his gaze darted over to Caroline and Devonshire, and a furrow appeared across his brow.
“She’s a pretty thing.” Cage watched the other gentleman’s faces. Both men looked dour.
“True, but she’s totally out of reach, a real ice queen,” Tennyson said. Benson nodded and then stuffed another tart into his mouth.
Danville gave Cage a sideways glance. “Wrotham, I’ve seen the ladies throw themselves in your path. I dare you to try your luck. See how far you get.”
“Gents, I’m not looking to get hitched.” Cage shook his head.
All three men laughed out loud. “You don’t have to worry about that with her.” Danville spoke first. “Look at poorDevonshire, he has permission from her brother, but that won’t help him convince her.”
They all turned to see Caroline curtsy politely to Devonshire. Then she silenced his next remark by pushing open her parasol in front of his face before turning on her heel to walk out from the shade of the oak tree’s branches. She hurried across the lawn toward the tall hedges that surrounded a large fountain. Alone. Again. Cage sighed. This woman had no sense for her own safety. Death threats aside, she still shouldn’t be heading off into the maze alone.
“I doubt anyone can thaw that one out,” Tennyson said.
Cage thrust his glass at Tennyson. “I accept your challenge, gentlemen. Wish me luck.” He gave them a small salute.
As he crossed the lawn, he spotted the duke standing next to his wife, who sat chatting with the others at their table. He watched his sister walk away from Lord Devonshire too. Cage caught his eye and nodded his head toward Caroline’s retreating form. Gilchrest nodded back. Cage lengthened his stride as Caroline disappeared into the hedge maze, the bushes so high all he could see was the top of her green parasol.
When he caught up to her, he found her pacing back and forth in front of a stone bench. Next to the bench stood a stone statue of a fanciful Puck. Caroline muttered to herself, her closed fan whipped left and right as though she brandished a small sword.
