She continued, “If you wish to frighten me,then embody the figure of an incurious duke, sleep half the day, and stagger about at night in a drunken stupor. Have no concerns beyond your appearance and no interest beyond the next bacchanal. Then have a puppeteer uncle force us to marry. Nowthatwould scare me.”
Shaw walked in an agitated circle and then returned to her. He pointed a finger at her. “Youare too honest, in case you are not aware.” She stared at the tip of his finger until her eyes went a little cross, and he dropped it. She chuckled.
“It is not necessary,” he continued, “to share your every experience with me. I amreeling, in fact, from your great wealth of heartfelt revelations.”
“You’re angry?” she asked. “Angry? Because you failed to frighten me with a kiss? Stop.”
She shoved from the table. “I suppose I may stop worrying you think I was trying to seduce you.”
He made another choking sound. “I beg your pardon?”
She began winding her way through the carriages. “I’d asked you for the favor,” she reminded. “But I would never cajole you by... by doing what we’ve just done.”
“I do not feelcajoled,” he bit out.
A lone window glowed moonlight on the far wall, and she went to it. “I would never try to manipulate you through... er, seduction.” It could not be said enough.
“Rest easy, sweetheart, I cannot be seduced.”
She glanced over her shoulder. He did not look unseducible. His hair was tussled, his tunic wasaskew, his expression was strained. He looked like a bear staggering out of hibernation.
“Good,” she said. There was a door beside the window, and she hurried to it.
“Iknow thatyouknow that I wasn’t plying you with my, er, charms.”
“You’re beautiful, my lady,” he sighed, “but notthatbeautiful.”
Helena paused with her hand an inch from the doorknob. She turned back to him. “I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing.” A growl.
“That was unnecessarily rude.”
“That was the point,” he mumbled. “I am rude. I am terrible. I am not to be trifled with. I am...”
He muttered to himself and spun away, mussing his disheveled hair again. He snatched a coil of rope from a carriage and tossed it on a bench. He clamped his hands behind his head and turned away.
“You should go,” he said, spinning back. “How did you leave the house?”
She glared and reached again for the door. “Good night, Mr. Shaw.”
The cold moonlight hit her like a slap, and she sucked in a little breath. She looked right and left, checking the alley, and then picked her way along the side of the stable.
He followed. “It’s risky for me to escort you, but I can follow from a distance. Tell me your plan.”
“Go to the devil.”
“My lady...”
She sighed. “There is a side door that leads to the cellar.”
“Ofcourse,” he breathed. “Did you leave it unlocked?”
“Ofcourse,” she mimicked.
They reached the low wall that lined the Lusk garden and she said, “I’m expecting your help tomorrow. Pray, do not disappoint me.”
Before he could answer, she scuttled over the wall. She heard him swear softly into the night.
