“I won’t get in the way,” she said, batting her lashes. Flirting may have been a foreign concept but, in this battle of wiles and wits, there was no weapon she wasn’t willing to try. “I won’t even say a word.”
Kincaid snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”
“All right, maybe afewwords,” she allowed. “But I truly believe I’d be very useful.”
“And how is that?” he asked, not bothering to disguise his skepticism.
She lifted her chin. “For your information, I am anexcellentjudge of character.”
“An excellent judge of character,” he repeated.
“Indeed. For example, even though you act like a gruff, growly bear, I know that, deep down, you are a good, honest man. I also know that you always strive to do the right thing, even when that means taking on the case of an American who cannot afford to pay you a penny.”
The gruff, growly bear frowned at her. “A decision which I am beginning to seriously reconsider.”
“And,” she continued, nonplussed by his surliness, “I know that you are far more enamored of that penniless American than you let on. In fact, I think you might evenlikeher. Very much. You’re simply afraid to admit it.”
His jaw clenched. “I can assure you I am enamored of no one, Miss Thorncroft.”
Joanna leaned in close. “It’s all right,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I won’t tell.”
He glowered at her.
She grinned at him.
“Very well,” he said at last. “You may accompany me—”
“Splendid!”
“—ifyou can remain quiet and keep your thoughts to yourself.”
“That should not be a problem.” Her head tilted. “Although, what if—”
“No.”
“But I might have a—”
“No.”
“What iftheytalk to—”
“No.”
She huffed out a breath. “Fine. I’ll hold my tongue and stand in the corner, just like a well-behaved lady should.”
“You’re many things, Miss Thorncroft,” he said wryly. “Well-behaved isn’t one of them.”
“Thank you.”
He stared at her for a moment, his amber gaze impossible to read. Then he held out his arm. “You’re welcome.”
Side by side, the penniless American and the growly bear set off down the sidewalk.
Chapter Thirteen
Their destination wasMayfair, a district in West London that bordered Hyde Park. Predominately comprised of tree-lined streets and brick townhouses, it was an affluent area for those who could not afford Grosvenor Square, but were far wealthier than the poor souls condemned to the rookeries in the East End.
Kincaid led the way to a home with a blue door. Tall and narrow, its walkway was in need of a good sweeping and the mortar between the bricks was beginning to crumble but, otherwise, it was in fair condition, discernable from the other houses only by the color of its entrance.
