He stepped forward, dressed entirely in black, explaining how she’d missed him.
“How did you get in?” she demanded.
“The windows were unlatched. The trellis was sturdy enough to hold my weight, but that might not always be the case. There’s nothing here. I’ve already searched.”
“We need a more effective system of communication,” she snapped like the most veritable shrew. “How am I supposed to reach you in the event of an emergency?”
“Ah. A very good question,” he said dryly. “You may send a note to me at Number Ten, Manchester Square.”
“Fine—” She stopped, surprise rioting through her. “Manchester Square? Number Ten? Why, that’s just across from Hertford House. Quite exclusive.”
“Your point?” Irritation colored his tone.
“Oh, um, nothing. I’ll indeed send a note if there is an issue.” She backed to the door, but he matched her step for step except his were longer. “I must return to the ballroom. My sister is, um,holding a chair for me and is likely to come looking if I’m away too long.”
“Will she now?”
“Y-yes.” Her voice shook, and it infuriated her. Why the devil was she acting like such a ninny? She was the better in this scenario. She pulled up, catching him by surprise, and he bumped into her, nearly knocking her to the floor but for his quick reflexes. Strong fingers gripped her upper arms, saving her from an embarrassing spill. “And”—she poked him in the chest—“I need fabric. Right away.”
He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “What?”
“You promised me a reduced amount on fine material. And I-I need it. Right away.”
His lips tipped in a slow, devastating curve, amusement filling his voice. “Tonight?” he said softly, enticingly.
She hated how that smile and the husky resonance shifted the axis of her…herlife. She brought her hands up and flattened them against the rough wool of his frockcoat and pushed—to no avail. “Stop being obtuse. Tomorrow should suffice,” she huffed out in grandiose disdain.
“Tomorrow is out of the question. Tuesday next, however, will work.” He was staring at her mouth.
Her stomach lurched with riotous confusion before his words sunk in. “But it has to be tomorrow. Next week is too late.”
He blinked, and his eyes cleared and focused. On hers. “Very well,” he said with a snap of impatience. “I’ll pick you up at Stanford House.”
“No.” She spoke quickly. “That won’t do at all.” Goodness, if anyone saw the two of them together… “I shall come to your place of business.”
His hands dropped from her as if her skin singed his fingers. A hard glint that frightened her a little glittered in his eyes.“Impossible. The warehouse is near the docks. It is quite unsafe for a female.”
Rose frowned. “I’ll take a hackney.”
“Absolutely not.” He stepped back, his face an implacable mask. “If I cannot escort you, you will not come at all. That is my final word on the matter.”
“I-I suppose I could come to Manchester Square,” she hedged. But she’d told the girls just a few days ago that young womenneverwent to a gentleman’s home. Of course, Rose was no longer young. At thirty with no children, it literally placed her in her dotage.
“If you will not allow me to pick you up from your home, or you cannot think of another place in which to meet, then I daresay this conversation is over.” He leaned in—so close his heated breath touched her cheek—and reached around her, grabbing the door latch.
Her body quivered, and she felt a sudden need to turn her head to brush her lips across his skin. The unbidden thought stunned her. Him as well, as this was the first time she’d seen his face unhindered. She clenched her fists at her sides, steeling her resolve. She was not here to trade kisses with a scoundrel who was there to root out a blackmailer.
It would behoove her to remember her own goal: obtaining bolts of material for dresses for the Unfortunates, as she was coming to think of them. Especially after Monday’s etiquette lesson disaster. “The Lending Library, Hookham’s, then. Will that suffice?” The huskiness of her tone irritated her, but she waited, breath held, for his answer.
“Are you mad?” he bit out. “The boxing salon is virtually next door. You’ll be seen.”
Fury took hold. “What of it? I am a widow. Who is there to care?”
“Your brother perhaps? Lady Huntley? Lady Beaumont? Theirhusbands?”
And therein lay her curse. All the titles her family held but her! She jerked straight before her body could fold in on itself.
His demeanor softened, the breath once more against her cheek resembling a caress. “I shall arrive at your residence at ten tomorrow morning. If you do not appear by ten oh one, I shall conclude you have chosen not to accompany me and I therefore shall depart. No questions asked. Perhaps it will reassure you to know that my coach’s exterior looks more like a public conveyance. I do share your safety concerns.”
