“No,” came her quick reply.
“Whyever not?” Caleb asked. “Surely there is no harm in taking a carriage ride with me.”
Miss Delacourt shifted back on the bench so her face was concealed. “Just being here with you, right now, could cause people to talk.”
Caleb’s eyes roamed over Hyde Park. “No one appears to be giving us much heed. Are you afraid that being seen with me could damage your reputation?”
“No, but I do not want people to gossip about me,” Miss Delacourt explained. “If thetonstarts to take notice of me, I’m afraid of what they will see. My cover depends on anonymity.”
“You are much too beautiful to be a wallflower,” he praised. Perhaps if he charmed her, she would be more cooperative.
But it didn’t seem to work.
Miss Delacourt visibly stiffened. “I would prefer if you didn’t use flattery to achieve your purposes.”
“It was merely the truth,” Caleb defended.
“Well, do try to keep your opinions to yourself,” Miss Delacourt said. “My appearance does not affect my ability to be an agent.”
“I never said that it did.”
Miss Delacourt gave him a pointed look. “Did you ever tell Lord Roswell that he was beautiful when you worked with him?”
“I see your point,” Caleb admitted. “But we digress. If you are opposed to a carriage ride, may I at least call upon you?”
“For what purpose?” Miss Delacourt asked.
Caleb resisted the urge to groan. “I am trying here,” he replied. “Please at least try to meet me halfway.”
Miss Delacourt pursed her lips, appearing as though she might reject his plea. However, her expression softened, if only slightly, but it was enough. “Very well,” she conceded. “I suppose you may visit me, assuming you do not overstay your welcome.”
“Thank you,” he acknowledged.
She tipped her head. “Now may I have the code?” she asked.
He extended it towards her. “You will tell me what you discover, won’t you?” he asked.
“I said that I would, didn’t I?” she responded as she accepted the paper.
Caleb watched as she studied the paper in her hand and couldn’t help but admire her lovely face. For it was indeed lovely. Not that he should be noticing such a thing.
Miss Delacourt abruptly rose. “Thank you for this, but I should be going,” she said.
Rising, he asked, “May I see you home?”
“That is not necessary,” she replied. “I am more than capable of seeing my way home.”
“I know you are capable, but it would be my privilege.”
Indecision flashed on Miss Delacourt’s features before she said, “I will allow you to walk me to my coach.”
It might not be much, but he would take it as a small victory. “I would like that very much,” he said as he held out his arm.
Miss Delacourt glanced down at his arm before she reluctantly placed her hand on his sleeve. “Did you often escort Lord Roswell around Town?”
“No, but he wasn’t as beautiful as you,” Caleb replied as he started leading her down the dirt path.
“Mr. Bolingbroke, you go too far…” she started.
