“Are you a proper gentleman, Mr. Hart?” she asked, giving him a sly smile that made his heart soar in his chest.
“Not always, no, but despite what you’ve likely heard, neither am I a villain.” He rose to his feet and reached down to help her up.
“Thank you.”
“You look chilled.” He removed his coat and draped it over her shoulders.
“Oh, that’s not necessary?—”
“Hush.” He swept her tangled hair gently away from her face, then lowered her hat onto her head, turning it this way and that before stepping back to study the effect. “There. Perfect.”
And to him, she was. Every inch of her.
He couldn’t say why he was so transfixed by her. She was beautiful, with her red hair and those wide green eyes, but he’d known beautiful women before.
But he’d never known anyone like her.
Somehow, in just a few days Miss Bathurst, with her tart tongue, wayward parasol and decaying half boots, had sunk a hook deep into the tenderest part of his heart.
The walk back to North Laines was much too short for his liking. They didn’t speak, but when they arrived at the door of Gardener’s Lodging House she paused on the doorstep. “Thank you for escorting me, Mr. Hart, and for your coat, and for…well, not turning me over to the magistrate.”
He laughed. “My pleasure, Miss Bathurst.” He took her hand, raised it to his lips and dropped a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “Until tomorrow.”
It couldn’t come soon enough.
Epilogue
Kemptown Brighton, Eight months later
“This way, Lottie. We’re nearly… No, keep your eyes closed, but mind the curb. That’s it. Just a little farther.”
“This is all quite mysterious, Armitage.” Lottie stumbled along gamely, clinging to her husband’s arm. “I can’t imagine a tiny peek will spoil the surprise.”
“Patience, my love. We’re nearly there. Eyes closed, if you please, Mrs. Hart.”
“I can’t imagine what it could be.”
“Of course not.” Armitage chuckled. “If you could, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
“You know, you’re a great deal trickier than I ever imagined.”
“Nonsense. I haven’t got a single trick up this sleeve, I assure you.”
“Hmmm.” Whatever the surprise was, Armitage had been working on it for months, all without dropping even a hint about what it might be. All he would say was that the idea had come from her, and he hoped she’d be pleased with it.
She would be. That went without saying. Everything he did pleased her.
Percy and Jenny knew what the surprise was. Neither of them could keep a secret to save their lives, but they’d both been uncharacteristically cagey about this. Their only reply was she’d find out in due time, and that she should be ashamed of herself for trying to spoil the surprise.
In other words, there were utterly useless.
Between the three of them and their whispering and secrets they’d been driving her mad for months.
“There are four steps in front of you.” Armitage guided her toward a short staircase, his hand resting on the curve of her waist to keep her steady.
“Can I open my eyes yet?” If she didn’t find out soon she was going to burst!
“Not quite yet.” He pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “A few more steps.”
