Her instinctive response was a snort. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because I know I annoy you more often than not.”
“Without question, but I probably annoy you too.” He moved his head slightly, just enough to brush his lips against her brow. “That doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”
She sucked in a breath. “What?”
His lips moved to her cheek. “I love you, Gabriella. Heart and soul.”
“Really?” Having given up long ago on the possibility that any man would fall for her, she felt a little unstable at the idea.
“You may be the most vexing woman I’ve ever encountered,” he said, “but you’re also the smartest, the bravest, and the only one that has ever challenged me in ways that make me crave more.”
He eased back, adding enough space between them so he could retrieve some folded pieces of paper from his jacket pocket. Unfolding them, he cleared his throat and offered them to her. The agreement she’d given him nearly two months ago. Dated and signed, though with an additional note at the bottom of the last page.
“I only made one amendment,” he said as she read it. “A compromise I hope you’ll agree to.”
That he be permitted to smoke in one room of their house. Without her complaining.
She nodded, her eyes misting once more as she raised her gaze to his. “Of course.”
The space between them vanished, the paper crumpling in her hand as she flung her arms around his neck and held on with all her might. His mouth met hers, lips parting as he drew her against his powerful frame. A gasp of surprise on her part let him deepen the kiss and carry her off on a journey of pure emotion.
“I love you too,” she told him later, gazing into his dazzling blue eyes.
He dipped his head and kissed her again. “Let’s return to London so we can start planning our wedding.”
“The faster the better,” she said, and laughed with joy when she caught his heated expression. Allowing a coy smile, she linked her arm with his and leaned in while they started toward the house. “Let’s not forget, we’ve a long carriage journey ahead of us, Peter. Plenty of time for all manner of mischief.”
“I fear you’ll be the death of me,” he murmured, right before adding, “in the best way possible.”
“Very well then. I challenge you to keep your hands to yourself for the next ten hours.”
His answering groan of frustration prompted a laugh that swept away all lingering feelings of guilt and wrongdoing, and left only joy in their wake.
The gentleman swirled his glass of brandy while staring at the burning log in his fireplace. Flames danced across the piece of wood. Yellows, oranges, and reds wove back and forth while grappling for control. He sipped his drink and pondered the state the city was in.
Another killer brought to heel. Not by Croft this time but by Kendrick. A welcome surprise that proved the chief constable’s worth. Of course, most of the work had been done by Miss Hastings. She alone had prevented Sally Finch from getting away.
The gentleman allowed for a lazy smile. She’d done exactly as he’d suggested when they’d last met. End the devilish woman by all means necessary, should the chance to do so arise.
Was she even aware of how easily he’d guided her hand? He wondered if she thought about it. If she ever pondered their meetings and all the information she gave him. Surely she must. She was no fool. But she probably viewed him as more of a mentor — a confidant who gave her advice as opposed to someone who’d turned her into a spy.
Having her installed as Kendrick’s assistant was truly invaluable. The cases she was privy to and the details she could pass along were priceless. As long as he asked the right questions, she’d never suspect she was being used.
33
Accompanied by her friends Violet Greene and Octavia Burley, Melody continued toward the Hyde Park entrance. Whenever weather allowed, the three of them met for fresh air and exercise. Violet and Octavia would eagerly chat about every piece of gossip they’d heard since their last outing, providing Melody with additional information she could pass on to Harlowe.
She inhaled deeply and tried to focus on what Violet was saying, her opinion of Miss Hastings killing the woman who’d murdered three men in cold blood. The matter must have been discussed in every drawing room across the land by now. Violet’s thoughts continued to shift. Last week she’d been certain Miss Hastings had acted correctly. Today she was less convinced. After all, Sally Finch had killed for good reason.
Melody arched a brow. “I’m not sure there’s ever a good reason for murder.”
“Let’s not dismiss the statement made by Sally Finch’s family. Those men she killed were retched scum as far as I am concerned.”
“Yes, but they didn’t kill anyone.”
