“Perhaps because I was in the coach you were jumping?” she pointed out lightly.
He winced as if the memory hurt. “I don’t know what I was trying to prove. Ah, yes,” he said as if remembering. “I wanted McGrath to know I had the better trained horse.” He took her hand. She did not yank it back. That would be too provoking, but she braced herself for the move she knew he was about to make.
He murmured, “I fear all I have proved is that I can be a fool.” He leaned in to kiss her.
Gwendolyn knew this game. She turned herhead so that his lips met her cheek. He pulled up with a low, frustrated groan. “Miss Lanscarr.”
She made a soft moue back at him. “This is not a good idea. AndIam not an easy mark, my lord.” She kept her tone gentle but firm.
He heard what she didn’t say. “I mean no insult.”
“Then do not insult me.”
Her admonishment seemed to hang between them a moment, and then he released her hand. “I merely wanted a taste. Just one taste of the intriguing Miss Lanscarr.” His laughter, dark and moody, punctuated his request. “Is that such a bad wish?”
“Obviouslyyes,” Mr. Steele’s cold voice said from the doorway.
They both whirled toward him. Gwendolyn was surprised that Mr. Steele had come so close to her and she hadn’t felt that tingly sense of his presence that she often did.
Lord Ellisfield squinted. “Oh, it is the mysterious Mr. Curran.”
Gwendolyn used the moment to move away from him so that when his lordship turned back around, she was a good three feet away.
He gave her a hangdog expression. “He ruined it for us, didn’t he?”
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak without insulting him.
“Well, then.” Lord Ellisfield clapped his hands, and he faced Mr. Steele. “I shall go down for dinner, because I can tell that the Mysterious Mr. Curran wishes to throw me out the window.Don’t worry, Mysterious Mr. Curran. I will leave her alone.” He shot Gwendolyn a puckish, hopeful grin and added, “Unless she wishes for my attention.”
The problem was that Mr. Steele blocked his exit. Lord Ellisfield walked right up to him. Mr. Steele was taller, but not by much. “If you wish me to leave, Mysterious Mr. Curran, you need to scoot out of the way.” He waved his hands as if to shoo Mr. Steele from his path.
With a look that should have cleaved Lord Ellisfield in half if it had been a sword, Mr. Steele stepped aside.
His lordship left the library, but not without a backward grin at Gwendolyn.
She waited until the man was gone before saying, “I’m grateful for your intervention.”
Mr. Steele ignored her statement. “We should go downstairs.”
“Not yet.” She spoke in a hushed tone. “Come here. And shut the door.”
Mr. Steele did not comply. “They are gathering for dinner. We are expected.”
“I have something of import to tell you.”
He didn’t move closer to her. “What is it?”
Gwendolyn bit back a huff of annoyance. She took three steps in his direction so she could say in a low voice, “Lady Middlebury does not think you are Lady Orpington’s nephew. You came upon Lord Ellisfield asking me who you were.”
“Thatwas what he was doing? It didn’t look like it to me.”
At first, Gwendolyn thought he referred to Lord Ellisfield’s mocking “Mysterious Mr. Curran” comments, but then realized he meant the kiss. She held up a hand. “Stop. Nothing happened.”
“Not because he didn’t want it.”
“Exactly, and it is whatIwant that counts,” she informed him. “However, on a matter of more importance, I believe his mother sent him to ask me what I knew about you.”
“You told him I am Mr. Curran, correct?”
