“I was, in fact, just playing cards tonight.”
He threw his head back in a laugh, delighted. There wasn’t a bit of subterfuge to her, was there? “I might have guessed the lady who concussed me would turn out to be the same lady counting cards at Hart’s Ace tonight.”
“I suppose you might have, but that wouldn’t have been nearly as entertaining, would it?”
“Are you entertained, Miss Bathurst?”
“Vastly, yes.”
She was trying to play it off, but underneath him her slender body was trembling, and for all her bravado, her eyes were suspiciously bright.
For some reason, it only made him like her more. God, he was a besotted mess, wasn’t he? If she’d been any less magnificent a lady, he might have been embarrassed.
“You’re quite heavy, you know.” She squirmed underneath him, kicking her feet against the sand. “If you’d be so good as to unhand me?—”
“No, indeed. I wouldn’t dare. What’s to stop you from attacking me?”
“Me, attack you?” She huffed. “You’re afraid of a lady who’s half your size attacking you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Bathurst. You’re nowhere near half my size.”
“Even more reason for you to release me.”
“No, I think not. You have an extensive criminal history. For all I know, you may have a weapon concealed under your cloak.”
“A weapon! How dare you? I would never?—”
“A parasol attack two days ago, and a theft today.” He tutted, shaking his head. “It’s no wonder I haven’t seen you at the Old Steine. You’re far too busy committing crimes to take the waters.”
Twelve whole pounds worth of crimes, not a single penny of which he gave a damn about, but she didn’t know that. No doubt she believed he intended to prosecute her.
Well then, they’d just get that out of the way at once. “Do you deny, madam, that you were counting cards at my establishment, Hart’s Ace, this evening?”
Her gaze shifted from his face to the darkness over his shoulder, as if she couldn’t quite meet his eyes, and she let out a sigh so deep her small body curled underneath him. “No. I don’t deny it. I was counting cards, and I—I beg your pardon for it.”
He gazed down at her, something shifting inside his chest. He’d encountered many thieves in his time, but never one who begged his pardon for stealing from him.
She was no thief. Not really. Just a desperate young lady who’d been driven to do something foolish she likely never would have done otherwise.
What had made her so desperate? He wanted to know more than he wanted his next breath, but he wouldn’t push her. Instead, he said as gently as he could, “That’s a very pretty apology, Miss Bathurst, and I thank you for it.”
“Here.” She pulled a handful of crumpled banknotes out of the pocket of her cloak and offered it to him. “This is all of it. Take it.”
“I don’t want it.” He took the limp notes from her and stuffed them back into her cloak pocket.
She didn’t expect that. Her eyes went wide, and really, she had the loveliest eyes. They were the most unusual shade of green, and framed with long, lush eyelashes.
“You don’t want your money back?”
“No. Come, Miss Bathurst. You can’t believe I chased you halfway across Brighton for twelve pounds.”
She frowned. “Well, I can’t think of any other reason you’d chase me.”
My, she was innocent, wasn’t she? Utterly unaware of her own charms, as well. “Tell me, where did you learn to count cards like that?”
“I never learned. I’ve just always been able to do it.” She shrugged, her shoulders moving against the sand.
A natural ability, then. She grew more fascinating with every minute.
