Now he was here. Garbed in an impeccable suit of charcoal superfine, he looked like a sleek jungle cat juxtaposed against the chamber’s green walls. She, on the other hand, felt like a plump pigeon in her sprigged white muslin.
“Beg pardon, I didn’t hear you come in,” she blurted.
Above his pristine maize-silk cravat, his mouth curved. “Old habits, I’m afraid.”
Despite the pressing concerns she had to address, she couldn’t help but ask, “Why would you have the habit of moving so silently?”
“Because I once ran with a gang in the stews, and my survival depended upon stealth.”
It took her a moment to digest the revelation, which had been delivered with his usual equanimity.
“You were in a gang?” she said stupidly. “In thestews?”
Looking at the elegant, powerful man before her, she found the notion unbelievable. Since he’d first approached her in the garden, she’d spent time with him every day. No one had seemed to take notice for murder had taken center stage: one of the performers hired to entertain the guests had been found dead in the library. But now the mystery of the acrobat’s death had been solved—thanks to the investigative prowess of Gabby’s friends, the Kents—and the murderer brought to justice.
Just as one catastrophe ended, however, another had cropped up. This time, the intrigue involved one of the house guests, Mr. Wickham Murray. Apparently, Mr. Murray owed a substantial sum to Mr. Garrity, and others were characterizing the latter as a ruthless cutthroat.
Given what Gabby knew of Mr. Garrity, she could not believe this to be true.
Normally, she wouldn’t interfere in the affairs of others, but Mr. Murray was ever so nice. Moreover, he was soon to be the brother-in-law of Gabby’s dear chum, Miss Violet Kent, who’d made a surprising love match with Viscount Carlisle, Mr. Murray’s older brother, over the course of the house party.
A lot had happened in ten days.
Not least of all the fact that Gabby had fallen head-over-slippers in love with the man of her dreams. Actually, Mr. Garrity left all her girlish expectations in the dust: she couldn’t have evenimagineda man as wonderful as him. While others might find his self-assurance daunting, she felt calm and protected in his presence. With his fierce intelligence and perceptiveness, she was certain that he saw all her flaws, but he didn’t seem to mind them. He treated her ever so kindly, his chivalry the stuff of fantasy.
And there was no denying that he was the most handsome man she’d ever met.
But now the party was ending, and she didn’t know when she would see Mr. Garrity next.Ifshe’d see him again. She shut out that depressing thought. The important thing, she told herself, the reason that she’d sent a note asking for him to meet her here, was to discuss the situation with Mr. Murray. She was certain that, if Mr. Garrity but understood Mr. Murray’s difficult situation, he would show mercy on the young gentleman.
“I grew up in the streets of St. Giles. I survived by any means possible,” Mr. Garrity said calmly. “All of that is far behind me. But I thought it best you should know.”
She stared at him, heart hammering, thoughts of Mr. Murray’s plight overshadowed by Mr. Garrity’s startling revelations. In their prior encounters, Mr. Garrity hadn’t revealed much about himself. He’d askedhermany questions, however…and seemed genuinely interested in her replies. In fact, he was the only man of her acquaintance who seemed to enjoy her chatter.
Now, for the first time, he was sharing something about himself. No etiquette lessons had taught her how to respond to such astonishing, intimate facts. In truth, nothing in her life had prepared her for a man like Adam Garrity.
“Does that disgust you?” he asked.
“No.” Horrified that he’d misinterpreted her silence for condemnation, she said in a rush, “Heavens, not at all! You could never disgust me. I…I just never thought of you as anything but the man you are now.”
He raised a brow. “And what sort of man is that, Miss Billings?”
“Powerful. Rich. Elegant and ever so handsome.”Lord above, please tell me I didn’t say that last part aloud.
“I am, of course, gratified by your assessment.” The devilish glint in his eyes confirmed that she had, indeed, blurted her thoughts like a moonstruck ninny. “It gives me hope, my dear.”
Her pulse quickened. “Hope for what?”
“I wish to inform you of some facts,” he said, not answering her question. “I believe honesty to be the essential ingredient in any successful union, which is why I must be truthful with you.”
A successful union? Does he mean…what I think he means?
Although he’d paid her attention these past few days, she hadn’t dared to believe that a man as worldly and charismatic as he would ever view her in a romantic light.
Hope bubbled through her like uncorked champagne. Giddy, breathless, she could only nod.
“I do not, as a rule, discuss my past. I will do so this once, in order for you to have the necessary facts to make an informed decision. After that, I will consider the matter addressed and laid to rest.” He paused. “Does that suit you, Miss Billings?”
“Yes,” she said speedily for fear that he might change his mind.
