Chapter Six
London
It was him!
The man she’d bumped into in the dimly lit hallway outside Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s office washim! The man she’d robbed just two days ago.
Trying to calm her racing heart, Winnie raised her handkerchief to her nose and inhaled the lingering fragrance of lavender. She could barely uphold her end of the conversation as her grandmother recalled their visit with Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Winnie was adrift in a sea of inner turmoil.
The second she met his gaze, in the hallway, she’d recognized him as the man she’d robbed, and been tempted to confess her crime to him. A more ridiculous notion could not be imagined. The encounter left her breathless, as if she had been dancing for hours without pause and with no end in sight. It made her lightheaded and giddy to recall the exciting magnetism that drew her to him.
The way he’d looked at her had been so bold, yet it had thrilled her to her core. She was so caught up in the moment that, like a moth flying too close to the flame, knowing full well she was at risk of being recognized, she could not help wanting to linger. Wanting to speak tohim. Wanting to get to know him. Wanting so much more…
It was a lapse of judgment on her part—this flirtation was not without peril; the dark-haired stranger could literally bring about her demise. If he found out who she was, she could end up with a noose around her neck. He had said as much when she’d unburdened him of his purse.
But despite the danger, she couldn’t help but feel a strange attraction toward him, a feeling she couldn’t quite understand or control. And despite the threat, she couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to be held in those strong arms, to feel his lips claim hers in a heady kiss. She’d never ever been kissed before, and the thought of her very first kiss being with him made her tingle from her head down to her toes.
He was not only the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. And given the number of robberies she’d carried out, she’d crossed paths with many well-to-do gentlemen of theton. But none had such striking blue eyes—or those dimples!Lord.Just his dimples alone made her knees tremble. She’d boldly taken him in from head to toe when she was disguised as the Lace Bandit. He was taller than most of the men she’d encountered. And he clearly did not shy away from physical work, possessing broad shoulders, muscular arms, and strong thighs.
A warmth she’d never felt before traveled through her, and a shameful blush filled her cheeks.
Lord, was she one of those wanton women who allowed herself to be led by her passions?
It worried her. Because she had made a commitment to not be led astray from her mission. She could not afford to dally with the man whom she’d robbed. The man who could easily figure out who she really was.
But then again, she had not reacted to any other man this way. Onlyhim… The tall, dark gentleman with the sky-blue eyes.
I don’t even know his name!
Even though her grandmother and Mrs. Dove-Lyon had joined forces to see her married and settled, Winnie had thought her detailed list of desirable attributes, which perfectly described the man she’d robbed, would mean that they could never find the right match for her. She could stretch this farce out for as long as possible until she came into her title and the inheritance that went along with it. Then she would no longer need to humor her grandmother, for she would have her fortune.
She had not expected to bump into the very man she had described to Mrs. Dove-Lyon! And he had been on his way to the widow’s office.
The gaming proprietress and matchmaking doyenne was no fool. She would take one look at him and know heperfectlymatched Winnie’s description. And she might likely put two and two together, especially after Winnie and he had bumped into each other in the hall, and realize they had met before. And Winnie was attracted to him. If so, what was she to do if Mrs. Dove-Lyon arranged for them to meet? How would she be able to keep her hidden identity from him? What a pickle she was in!
Her grandmother heaved an impatient sigh, bringing Winnie out of her thoughts.
“Edwina, are you listening to a word I’ve said? What on earth is going on in that mind of yours?”
“Forgive me, Grandmama. I was merely distracted by the passing scenery. But yes, I am always grateful for your insightful observations.”
“Good, because I have many pearls of wisdom to impart to you.”
Winnie smiled as her grandmother continued her lecture. The carriage crawled through the dirty, crowded, narrow London streets, carefully avoiding hitting the children who often darted across. A shadow of guilt invaded Winnie’s consciousness. She had not delivered the spoils she’d collected over the past weeks to the charitable institutions she secretly funded, as she’d intended. Winnie vowed toamend the situation as soon as possible, and sneak away long enough to fill the coffers of those in dire need. Despite the challenges, she was determined to uphold her promise and dedication to those who were less fortunate than she. It was a duty she took very seriously.
“I am very much in favor of Bess’s suggestion of a private dinner soiree, aren’t you? It will give you a chance to be seen, and it will be a perfect occasion for you to meet the gentlemen that Mrs. Dove-Lyon will choose to attend. Hopefully, you will find someone who meets your unrealistic romantic expectations. If not, you will have to come to a compromise, because you arenotleaving London without a betrothal.”
Her grandmother’s declaration got Winnie’s full attention. If she thought she could stretch this out and hopefully avoid making a choice altogether, she was mistaken, and now Grandmama had decreed that she must choose before returning home.
“I will leave everything in Bess’s capable hands,” Felicia went on. “It seems she found her true calling and is very good at this matchmaking business.”
Winnie, however, was not so easily swayed by her grandmother’s praise of the idea. Being put on display at a dinner party did not seem favorable to finding one’s love match. She had her own ideas about love and marriage and was determined to follow her heart, even if it meant defying her grandmother’s wishes.But how?
Winnie couldn’t help but wonder if the handsome stranger would be in attendance. Part of her wished it to be so, but another part—the Lace Bandit part—worried about him finding out who she truly was.
Even so, her heartbeat quickened at the thought of continuing their conversation. She’d never been so enthralled by the mere essence of a man, never felt the magic of attraction that now held her rapt. Winnie had never yearned for the press of a man’s lips on hers. For her, that was something those without serious intent yearned for. It was the kind of frivolity indulged by young ladies at their first come-out, not the yearning of the independent and serious-minded woman she strived to be.
Why, pray tell, was this ridiculous obsession with a perfect stranger playing havoc with her emotions?
