However, what game was being played? And what was her role? Was it possible Lady Orpington did not know his true identity?
Of course she knew. She’d introduced him as her nephew. She had to know that was not true.
Dara would really not be pleased with this at all.
But Gwendolyn was almost giddy with excitement. Something was afoot. And whatever was about to happen, Mr. Steele was including her.
Lady Orpington spoke. “Miss Lanscarr, you will come with us to Colemore next week. I shall pick you up on Wednesday midmorning. I expect you to be ready on time. Prepare to spend two weeks.”
“Of course,” Gwendolyn murmured, pleased she sounded poised and unruffled. “I shall look forward to the adventure.” She began pulling on her gloves, needing to have something to do with her shaking hands.
“Adventure? Ha!” Lady Orpington said. “There will be good food, boring company, and, hopefully,excellent cards. One can’t ask for more, can one?” She looked to Mr. Steele. “Nicholas, will you please escort Miss Lanscarr home?”
“Happily,” his deep voice answered. He stretched a hand toward the door, an invitation for Gwendolyn to leave with him.
Chapter Five
Beck watched with admiration as Gwendolyn hid her obvious confusion behind a graceful curtsy. “Lady Orpington, Mrs. Newsome. It was a pleasure to meet you,” she said.
“I look forward to playing with you,” the old dragon replied, her words dripping with a sweetness Beck had not associated with Lady Orpington.
She had been a handful ever since they had made their agreement; he would find a whist partner for her, and she would give him entrée to Colemore. From the moment he’d spied Gwendolyn in Dublin, he’d known she would meet Lady Orpington’s needs—well, save for the Irish aspect. Lady Orpington, like so many of her class, thought of herself as socially superior to everyone outside their close circle of acquaintances. So Beck had delayed this meeting until he knew Lady Orpington couldn’t afford to be arbitrary.
Gwendolyn walked through the door he held open, her head high, her back straight. However,once out in the hall, she started to turn to him. He could feel her excitement and knew she was bubbling with questions. “Not yet,” he warned under his breath.
With a quick nod that she understood, she continued moving.
Beck was surprised by the number of footmen who all of a sudden appeared stationed along the hallway and her path. They hadn’t been there when he’d arrived.
And he didn’t like the way their gazes followed Gwendolyn’s tall, refined figure as she passed them. He was certain they noticed the way her hips moved with a gentle sway and imagined exactly how long her legs were.
For her part, she seemed oblivious to the hearts she was conquering. At one point, she smiled in the direction of a footman. The man’s faced flushed red.
Beck understood. Gwendolyn had that effect on every male of her acquaintance... including himself. There were times when she shot him a look of complete hero worship. She romanticized him, and if he wasn’t careful, he would see himself through her eyes. He would forget exactly who he was. He was a loner. He didn’t need entanglements. He liked his life the way it was. Besides, he brutally reminded himself, Gwendolyn could do much better than him. Shedeservedbetter. His job was to see that no ill befell her. She was doing him a great favor, and he was determined to keep her safe. Middleburyhadn’t sent his man Winstead to coddle Beck but to kill him.
That was why the conversation he was about to have with her was critical.
And he didn’t anticipate her being happy about it.
Downstairs, a footman held her bonnet. Gwendolyn took the hat and tied the crisp ribbons under her chin at a fetching angle. The ribbons matched the blue in her dress and made her golden-brown eyes stand out even more.
For his disguise, Beck had given up his preferred wide-brimmed hat for a curled-brimmed beaver that all the gentlemen wore. He tipped it low over his eyes and offered Gwendolyn his arm. She rested her gloved hand lightly on his sleeve, and they went out the front door. Lady Orpington’s coach waited for them.
A footman jumped down from the rumble, the seat at the rear of the coach, to place a small step by the coach door. She held Beck’s hand as she climbed in, and there was something about her grace, her presence, that made him feel ridiculously gallant.
“Drive until I tell you differently,” he instructed the coachman. He removed his hat and climbed into the coach. He took the seat opposite hers, his back to the driver, and set the hat beside him.
The footman closed the door.
Beck pulled down the shades to protect them from prying eyes. Gwendolyn watched his everymovement, her hands folded in her lap. He sat back against his seat, and that’s when he noticed how close the space was.
Or did it feel close because he was with her? He couldn’t name the scent she wore, but it reminded him of summer, of wildflowers and sparkling streams.
She wasn’t fair-haired and blue-eyed like her sisters. However, he liked Gwendolyn’s dark looks, her heavy, glossy hair that was as black as a raven’s wing and her startling golden eyes that seemed to look right into the heart of him.
The tightening in his loins, that damnable need that roiled a man’s blood, assured him that the sooner he set her against him, the better.
Beck knocked on the roof, a signal for the driver to leave. The coachman shouted “Ha,” and they began to move.
