Jonathan spoke to the foreman, although he never took his eyes from Fanny, that glittering green gaze speaking volumes. “I don’t believe so. Since it is no longer a tin mine, then I feel the name needs to be altered as well. From henceforth it shall be named Wheal Lady.”
***
THEY HAD LUNCH IN Aprivate dining area at the local inn upon Lord Castleford’s request. As the innkeeper’s wife brought them each a pint of ale, she withdrew to prepare their meal. Fanny normally didn’t imbibe spirits, but she needed to do something to calm her nerves. Ever since they’d left the mine, Lord Castleford had barely taken his eyes from her. It was unsettling, and not because she didn’t like being the center of his attention — but because shedid.
She took a bracing sip of the ale and grimaced as the bitter brew slid down her throat. To try to distract her body’s responses to him, she returned the conversation to where they’d left off. “So tell me how you came to be in possession of Wheal...” She faltered over the name, knowing that it was in reference to her, ending with, “...the mine?”
Those green orbs caressed her over the rim of his cup as he drank deeply. As he set it back on the table, he slowly licked the stray droplets from his lips. “It was a gift from the Marquess of Shropshire.”
“That was very... generous of him.”
Jonathan snorted. “Not really. It was just his way of getting me out of London.”
“Why would he wish that?” Fanny usually wasn’t so bold, but she was curious. She imagined all sorts of torrid scenarios based on his reputation — a cuckold husband, for one.
“He owed me money for a gambling debt,” Jonathan returned smoothly. “Nearly five thousand pounds.”
Fanny nearly spewed her drink across the table. “That is quite a sum.”
He lifted a brow. “Indeed.”
“So instead of sending the man to debtor’s prison for failing to pay, you decided to take a chance on our desolate part of the country and the investment he offered?” she guessed.
He grinned. “It would appear so.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure I would have accepted such an offer.”
“I nearly didn’t,” he admitted.
“What changed your mind?”
For answer, his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Perhaps I knew I would find something worth fighting for.”
Fanny’s toes curled delightfully in her slippers. Her breathing deepened, and she felt a decided heat between her legs. She licked her lower lip just remembering his mouth on hers.
His grip instantly tightened on his mug, causing his knuckles to turn white. “You shouldn’t do that,” he said quietly,seductively.
She exhaled shakily. The dangerous highwayman had returned.
“Do what?” she asked softly, as she repeated the gesture.
His nostrils flared as he tapped a finger against his mug. “Tempt me.”
Fanny could hardly take a full breath, so she was thankful when the innkeeper’s wife chose that moment to return with their food. She forced herself to tear her eyes away from Lord Castleford and offer a smile at the woman. “It looks delicious.”
“That it does,” she heard Jonathan purr.
A shiver coursed down Fanny’s spine, for something told her he wasn’t referring to the meal at all.
***
JONATHAN WAS ABOUTto break the promise he’d made to himself that morning — to keep his hands to himself. Yet with every minute that passed, he was hard pressed to remain distant. His manhood was as stiff as iron beneath the table, and Fanny’s actions were quickly sending him over the edge of self-control.
The handkerchief from the fortune teller was practically burning a hole in his jacket pocket in warning, so he quickly grasped on to the only thing that might divert his attention from all the delightful things he would like to do to Miss Grouseman.
He removed the linen from his pocket, and rubbed his thumb over the gold emblem. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, handing it across the table to Fanny.
As their fingers brushed, he had to hold back a hiss, and shift to a more comfortable position in his seat.
