Why was he asking these questions? He didn’t want to know her answers. He certainly had no intentions of pursuing her. No matter how enticing the challenge of making her want him might be. Of all the men in London, he was the worst choice for Clio Blair.
‘Not a single one.’
Ouch. That arrow hit its mark.
Clio shifted her feet, her hand resting on her hip. ‘You are trying to distract me, Grey. It won’t work. Why were you following me?’
He raked his hand through his hair and grasped at the easiest lie. ‘I wanted to ensure you arrived at your home safely.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Please. Neither of us believes my safety ranks high on your list of priorities, no matter how you bluster on about my missing footman.’
She was wrong. Her safety was becoming increasingly more important to him. But he could hardly admit that to her, as he was only just realising it himself. ‘Fine. I wanted to determine where you were going after our investigation. Because I don’t trust you.’ That was also true and put him in a prickly conundrum. ‘When you doubled back and re-entered the house, I realised my suspicions about you were justified.’
She blinked, her amber eyes as hot as molten gold. ‘What suspicions are those, Grey?’
‘You aren’t being honest with me, Miss Blair.’
‘Who is ever completely honest? We all have our secrets. Even you.’ Her pupils dilated. For a terrifying moment, he thought she knew. Had she somehow seen the hidden shame he kept buried in the darkest cellar of his soul? But that was impossible.
She blinked, breaking the odd spell. ‘And you shouldn’t trust me either. I won’t hesitate to cut you down, any chance I get.’
That was an invitation he could accept. The warrior in him flared to life. He might not rise to the challenge of courting her, but he certainly wouldn’t back down from fighting her.
‘I expect nothing less.’ He risked her heat and stepped closer. When she didn’t back away, and he didn’t instantaneously combust, he took another step. ‘I will discover your secrets, Miss Blair, no matter how cunningly you hide them.’
‘Careful what you wish for.’ She gripped the back of his neck, sudden and shocking, pulling his head down to hers and stopping when their lips almost touched. ‘You might discover some truths are best left alone. If you come after me, I’ll make sure we burn together.’ Instead of closing the distance as he ached for her to do, she pushed him hard. He stumbled back. She was stronger than she looked, and he nearly landed on his arse.
Turning in a swirl of leather and silk, she swept into the driver’s seat with the grace of a bird taking flight. Before Thomas could recover from his near fall, the smart little buggy was trundling away. Sir Robin cawed, ‘Bastard!’ from the window.
Blast and damn!
10
‘Are you certain this is wise?’ Aunt Rowan was tapping her foot. Never a good sign.
Clio checked her bags for the seventeenth time. Determining what one should take for a fortnight in the country was challenging. Cynthia had sent a rushed note over the day before to inform her Lady Langley had invited a few more guests to make the visit a real party. Nothing lavish. A simple affair, really. Only ten or fifteen of their closest friends. Clio shouldn’t worry.
In Clio’s limited experience, nothing simple involved ten or fifteen members of the beau monde. It was rather scandalous of the duchess to propose a house party while she was still in the first month of mourning for her brother, but Clio supposed she and Lady Langley had something in common: neither needed to follow society’s expectations. Lady Langley was too far above the purview of the beau monde to care, and Clio was too far below it to merit any notice.
She puffed her cheeks and squashed the fluttering in her belly. She might not rank in the peerage, but that was no reason not to look fabulous. She knew societal armour was very often comprisedof silk, lace, and taffeta. Clio would certainly hold her own in a room full of London’s bluest bloods with her daring ensembles. It did result in a rather prodigious amount of luggage.
Clio nodded at the footmen who stood waiting to begin loading her cases in the carriage before answering her aunt. ‘I’m certain Viscount Beachley’s daughter will help our investigation. Both memories he shared with me were about Anna. He wants me to speak to her. I know it.’
Cynthia had booked them tickets on the London and South Western Railway. Lady Langley would send carriages for them at Burnham station when they arrived. All Clio needed to do was get herself and her trunks to the train on time. A feat in peril of failing if she didn’t hurry.
Aunt Rowan’s chestnut hair gleamed in the watery sunlight filtering through their entry window. ‘I’m worried, Clio. You know I rarely have visions, but last night, I dreamed of fire and ash. A tall man with a silver cane stood in the centre of the flames. Your Lieutenant General Grey.’
Clio shook her head. ‘He isn’t my anything.’
‘Are you certain? I fear he is a threat. I should never have allowed your uncle to bring him into your life.’
Clio placed a reassuring hand on her aunt’s arm. ‘You can’t always protect us from harm, Aunt Rowan. We are women, grown. Life is full of danger, but to live in fear is not to live at all.’
‘You, Ellie, and Helena are all I have left of my sisters. I swore a blood oath to them that I would protect you.’
‘And you have. But you also taught us how to protect ourselves. Trust us, Aunt Rowan. Trust the lessons you provided. If Lieutenant General Grey is a threat, fear not. I will vanquish him. Just as you taught me.’ She squeezed her aunt’s arm, willing her to understand.
Her aunt’s skin was as clear and smooth as Clio’s despite the thirteen-year gap in their ages, but it paled as Clio walked to thedoor and patted her shoulder for Sir Robin. Aunt Rowan was not a demonstrative woman, so Clio was shocked when Aunt Rowan glided swiftly across the room, pulling Clio into a stiff hug. ‘I don’t like you being so far away. We are a coven. Most powerful when together. If you need us, promise you will send a message.’
