He brushed a few stray tendrils of hair away from her ear, let his fingertips linger for a heartbeat on her neck, and then his mouth was there, his lips drifting over her cool, white skin, their touch softer than a breath. “But I won’t stop. Not until this is over.”
She gasped and went still for a moment, but then turned her head aside to escape his caress. “If you have your way, it will never be over.”
Another shudder passed through him at her words, but, God help him, instead of the regret and guilt he should feel . . .
It was a shudder of anticipation.
Chapter Ten
Crash!
Ellie leapt backwards as the hat rack toppled onto Madame Devy’s spotless display counter. The straw bonnet she’d been pretending to admire slid across the slick surface and fluttered to the floor at her feet.
“My goodness, Eleanor.” Charlotte turned from the array of silk ribbons the shop girl had spread across the counter. “Whatever is the matter with you?”
Eleanor gave Madame Devy’s disapproving assistant an apologetic smile, retrieved the crumpled bonnet, and shoved it back onto the rack. “Matter? Why, nothing at all.”
Nothing at all, except she’d spent the morning peering over her shoulder like a criminal who’d escaped the gibbet, certain any moment Camden West would clamp one of his enormous hands on the back of her neck and drag her away.
She’d ignored their agreement and stolen away from the townhouse before he could call on her.
Again.
“Do you like this color?” Charlotte held a bright blue ribbon up to her face and studied herself in the glass. “To trim my new hat, perhaps? I think the blue is f lattering.”
“All colors flatter you, Charlotte.”
Charlotte dropped the ribbon back onto the counter. “You didn’t even look!”
Eleanor didn’t hear her. She’d abandoned the hat display for the large window overlooking Bond Street, so she could peek at a tall gentleman in a bottle green coat who’d just passed by.
Not him, thankfully.
Him. Dear God, whatever was she going to do?
Eleanor straightened her spine and turned her back on the window. Find a way out, that’s what. After her disturbing conversation with Mr. West yesterday, she was more determined than ever to escape him, no matter what it took.
Playacting hadn’t worked, and neither had logic or reason. The time had come to go on the offensive—to storm the stage, as it were. Last night, as she’d lain awake staring at the canopy above her head, she’d begun to assemble her arsenal.
Camden West hadn’t told her much yesterday, but she’d listened to what he hadn’t said as well as to what he had, and after a sleepless night, she’d come to two conclusions. One, he wanted this marriage far more than she’d first realized, for reasons he didn’t intend to share. Two, that hedidwant the marriage so badly would be his undoing.
Eleanor clicked her tongue in mock sympathy.Poor Mr. West. He’d forgotten the first rule of gaming. One shouldn’t play when one was desperate to win, for their opponent might choose to call their bluff when they least expected it.
This morning, she’d called his.
Risky, perhaps, to disappear again today after yesterday’s warning. He wasn’t the kind of man one angered on a whim. Then again, it was a calculated risk, and those who were too meek to risk their necks rarely tasted victory.
Wasn’t that the second rule of gaming?
Mr. West wouldn’t risk his scheme before he’d done his utmost to bring it to the desired conclusion. Thetonwould assume Charlotte was already ruined if she was seen too often in Julian West’s company, and Camden West knew that as well as anyone. He was not, to Ellie’s great disappointment, a fool. If Charlotte were ruined before he could drag Eleanor to the altar, there was an end to his game. Despite his threats yesterday, she was willing to wager he’d keep his cousin far away from her sister.
“You’re not listening to me evennow.” Charlotte stood with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at Eleanor.
“I’m not in the mood for ribbons today, I suppose. Shall we go to Mr. Paterson’s shop? I ordered a set of the sweetest spinning tops for baby Alec. Perhaps they’re ready. It’s just down the way. We can walk, and George can follow us with the carriage.”
Charlotte brightened at the mention of their nephew. “Yes, all right.”
They left the frowning assistant to her ribbons and stepped out onto Bond Street. Eleanor signaled to George to return to the carriage and have the driver follow along behind them.
