Descending the slope, they walked in silence until they reached the pretty water feature set in the carpet of green lawn. Moonlight made diamond ornaments of the water droplets as they fell. Jo watched them, attempting to order her thoughts.
“It’s a shame,” Reade murmured close beside her.
A frisson of awareness rose up her neck. “What is?” She turned, caught by the softer note in his voice.
“A beautiful night, a beautiful lady.” His voice was seductive, making heat ripple under her skin. “Any man in his right mind would steal a kiss.”
“Perhaps you’re not in your right mind, sir,” Jo said, fighting desire while still unsettled about his questioning. “I can make no sense of you tonight.”
He tilted her chin up with his palm. His thumb slid along her jaw, leaving a trail of warmth. She stilled, and her lips parted.
“It will all come to light, eventually.”
Jo swallowed. “What will?”
He dropped his hand. “The truth, Miss Dalrymple.”
“I think we should return to the house,” Jo said, turning away.
“Yes. Regrettably, I must agree with you.”
Suddenly furious with him, she balked at taking his arm but was obliged to when a group of people appeared on the path.
Really, the man was impossible! She had been right in her first assessment of Reade. He was involved in something serious and possibly dangerous. But what on earth had her father to do with any of it? Did he think she hid something from him? That if he’d kissed her, she would reveal it? But he changed his mind. Decided he would learn nothing from her. It was insulting. She was not a fool. She wanted to demand Reade tell her what lay behind his questioning, but there was no point. He was as mysterious as the Pyramid of Cheops.
After they reached the terrace, Jo dropped her hand from his arm as if it burned her. “Thank you for your company, Lord Reade. I enjoyed the garden.” A group turned to observe them. Let them think what they liked, she thought crossly. “And for such an enlightening conversation.”
Reade raised an eyebrow, bowed, and left her.
Jo entered the house and went in search of her father. He’d finished his card game and now sat with Aunt Mary.
Jo hurried over to him. “Papa, do you know a Mr. Virden?”
“That’s odd. Mr. Cartwright just asked me the same thing. I’ve never met the fellow.
“Is he here tonight?” Did you want me to meet him?”
“No, Papa.”
“What is this all about, Jo?” Aunt Mary asked.
“I don’t know, but Lord Reade seemed to think Papa knew him,” Jo said. “He is obviously mistaken.”
“Yes. My memory for names is excellent. I would remember Mr. Virden,” her father said. “We must find our hostess and thank her for such a pleasant evening. Aunt Mary wishes to retire. She is a little weary.”
“Yes, I am too, Papa. I will say goodnight to Letty and Mr. Cartwright.”
There was no sign of Reade as she made her way through the reception rooms. She would have enjoyed demanding he apologize for grilling her in that fashion, now that she was certain he’d been wrong. But it gave her pause, for why did he think it?
Reade went insearch of Cartwright to discover if he’d had better luck with Dalrymple than Reade had done with his daughter. He understood why Miss Dalrymple had been angry and defensive for her father’s sake. It was regrettable. He wished he could ease her mind, but he needed to know why Virden visited their home. It seemed clear Joanna knew nothing about Virden. The alternative that she might and was covering up for her father didn’t bear thinking about. Reade dismissed the notion. He didn’t want to believe she was capable of doing that. But he must not allow her allure to cause him to lose focus.
Dammit, he still wanted to kiss away the worry he’d seen on her pretty face. But one kiss might lead to more, and then where would he be? Far wiser, surely to leave Miss Joanna Dalrymple alone wherever possible.
And he fully intended to do so.
“I mentioned the man’s name and drew a blank,” Cartwright said. “He either doesn’t know him, or he has the best poker face in London.”
Who was Virden meeting at Lord Pleasant’s house? At some stage, Reade would need to confront Joanna’s father with the evidence of Virden’s comings and goings and demand an explanation as unpalatable as this would be.
