Rich, shiver inducing, Daniel.
“Mrs. St. Maur?”
Like a magnet, I spun toward him, feeling the draw to his dark eyes. That crazy heart of mine raced. “I think I should defer the defense to you.”
“Well, I have a pretty good record of wins when I am not distracted.”
“Your lordship, I seem beset by distractions.”
“Then let’s have the perfect afternoon, friend. My carriage is outside.”
He’d changed from white and black to another stylish waistcoat of emerald and a jacket of deep indigo. But on his head remained the powdered wig.
Before I could stop myself, I was at his side with my hands in his hair, fingering the fine thick bouncy waves. I pulled off his court wig.
“Can’t keep your hands off me. Can you, Jemina?”
Nodding fast, I swallowed hard. “Where’s the box? You must have a box for this.”
He held out his arm. “It’s in my carriage, along with an afternoon of adventure.”
“Adventure, you say, Lord Ashbrook? Is this before you rush home?”
His smile showed and a tinge of the gap in his teeth. “Alas, friends and mistress candidates have to endure my schedule. Are you game?”
“Yes.” Holding his wig like a reticule, I wrapped my arm about his. This was an invitation I couldn’t refuse.
CHAPTER 31
MARKETDAY
With his palms on her waist, Daniel guided Jemina into his carriage. He hurried, not that he was opposed to holding her, but the Old Bailey was a central point of gossip.
This wasn’t the discretion he’d followed since beginning his practice. Yet, not touching, not helping her wasn’t an option.
Jemina sat opposite him as he put his wig away in the leather-trimmed box where he stored it.
“You’re mighty silent, my lord, for a man who won his trial.” He waited for the carriage to start, for the two of them to be away from this stiff showy world. “It’s a ritual of quiet reflection.”
“Oh.” Her head turned to the window with thumbs up, moving in and out.
The carriage turned the corner. He relaxed and stared at his companion, her buckled slippers and simple lavender dress. “What are you doing?”
“My ritual.”
Fresh-faced without the artifice of rouge or heavy perfumes like the typical spectators at the court, the woman was a welcomed change.
“You’re never boring, my dear.”
“Daniel, you say that as if you are.”
He sat back with folded arms. “Quite dull, except for my aunt’s escapades and my vingt-et-un nights.”
“Oh, the card game with your friends.”
His smile bloomed. He couldn’t help it. “You can’t help watching me, can you?”
Jemina leaned forward. “You could make things a great deal easier if you just confessed all.”
