She looked off to the side as she listened, nodding along. “Yes. Are you all right, Mr. Stanton? Or is there some head injury in your past I should know about?”
He fisted his hand, slapping it into the open palm of his other. “I suppose I am only processing what you are asking of me. And whether I wish to do it or not.”
“Oh, but you must!” She perched herself on the edge of her seat. “A gentleman cannot go back on his word, and you made your word to your friends that you would pay them their end of the wager.” Her catlike smile slipped back across her lips.
For a fleeting moment, Leonard wondered if he could humble himself enough to go slinking off to his father and ask for the money. But even the simple thought made his stomach and defenses harden.
He would not do it.
Leonard took a long breath through his nose, regaining his patience. “Let us get this over with.”
Her smile returned. “That’s the spirit.”
Chapter Ten
The night air bit at the tips of Leonard’s ears. The last days of September in London warmed with the light of day, but when the sun slipped beneath the sky, the air took on a horrid crispness.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Leonard lifted his shoulders so the cuff of his coat covered the exposed skin on his neck. Not only did he not want to be walking about with this woman at night of all things, he did not particularly like being forced into the chilled night air.
Mrs. Gillingham kept her gaze ahead as he trailed after her. “I am not doing anything to you. You are just a hermit who doesn’t like to have any fun.” With this, she threw a teasing grin over her shoulder.
He only sank lower beneath his coat. “You could have just given me my money back so we could have both moved on with our lives. This is a completely superfluous situation.”
They neared a street corner a block from Leonard’s townhome, but instead of turning or crossing the street, she came to a halt,reaching back and putting a hand to Leonard’s chest as she leaned forward to gaze down the street.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he ground out.
“Honora,” she reminded him, her eyes still watching the street.
“Need you keep touching me?”
She chewed her lip as one side of her mouth lifted. “I suppose I don’tneedto.”
He waited for her hand to move, but instead, it just lifted with each of his frustrated breaths. “Then why have you not removed it?”
“You said need. Nothing was mentioned about want.”
Leonard took her hand in his just long enough to pull it away from him before he dropped it. “I will ask you to refrain from such things for the rest of this—”
“Tryst?” she supplied.
“No.” He ran a hand over his coat, mentally removing any remnant of her touch. “That was not even remotely close to what I was thinking.”
Carriage wheels clattering down the street caught Leonard’s attention, and Mrs. Gillingham finally turned to look at him. “Our ride has arrived.”
He stood in silence, his mouth in a firm line, as the carriage rattled to a stop in front of them. The young man at the front hopped down and opened the door.
“Thank you, Jeffrey.” Mrs. Gillingham stepped inside, taking the seat facing forward.
Leonard followed, taking the seat across from her. “Where in the devil are we going?”
“Touchy.” With an air of unbothered indifference, Mrs. Gillingham pulled her reticule into her lap and produced a small mirror, which she flicked open and began inspecting herself. “You know, Mr. Stanton, I think this will be very good for you.”
He looked out the window, watching gas lamps come and go as they rattled by. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” Leonard heard the quick snap of her little mirror as she shut it before she slipped it back into her reticule. “You are much too stuffy, and I fear you have reached little to none of your potential enjoyment in life.”
“And what makes you say that?” His words were monotone, but he knew if he didn’t answer, she would only continue on anyway. Besides, she wasn’t wrong.
