Page 47 of A Perfect Gentleman

“Yet still you went to meet him? By yourself? Haven’t you any sense?”

“He said to come alone, and I didn’t want to risk scaring him off again. Besides, it was clear he had no intention of harming me. He could easily have done so when in the hotel, but he didn’t. He wanted money, and he wouldn’t get any if I was dead. Anyway, who should I have taken with me? I thought of Mr. Prescott, but I didn’t want him—or anyone—to hear some awful thing about my marriage.”

“Prescott! What about me? Don’t you think I might have some interest in the matter?”

“I didn’t want you to know!”

“Why?” Graeme clamped his hand around her arm. “What did you want so much to hide from me?”

Abby jerked away. She glared at him, trapped. “I didn’t want you to learn that your father was a thief! That’s what.”

chapter 16

“What?” Graeme’s voice was quiet, his eyes fixed on hers.

“Mr. Baker told me your father embezzled money from a charity he was involved in. That is what I didn’t want you to hear. I thought I could keep him silent by paying him, and there wouldn’t be any scandal. You wouldn’t have to find out what your father had done.”

“You were trying to spare me embarrassment?”

“Yes, of course.” Did he really distrust her so much he believed she wouldn’t try to save him from pain? “I know how important your name is to you, how little you want scandal attached to it. I thought I could ward it off by paying him, and you would never have to know. Your memory of your father wouldn’t be tarnished.” She simply could not reveal the part her own father had played in it. If Graeme knew her father had encouraged Reginald to embezzle the money, he would be furious. She feared he would turn away from her forever, as he had threatened just now.

“Abigail . . .” He cupped her face in his hands. He gazed down at her, an odd look on his face. “I already knew.”

“You did?” Now it was her turn to stare.

He nodded, his voice thoughtful. “So you didn’t know . . .”

“No. I was aware your finances were poor and you were faced with losing the estate. And that matters were worse because your father had bought a lot of that stock my father sent crashing. But I had no idea Lord Reginald had taken the money from a charity. Obviously, it would have made your situation more desperate. You would have had to replace it immediately, before anyone found out. It’s no wonder you felt imprisoned and angry.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t cry. It wasn’t your fault.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I apologize for accusing you of lying.”

The tenderness in his gesture filled her with warmth. “Well, I was trying to hide it from you. But I promise, I never had any intention of harming you.”

He kissed her with equal gentleness on her lips. When he lifted his head, there was a look in his eyes that turned the warmth inside her into a blaze. For a moment she thought he would kiss her again. He stepped back to a respectable distance, glancing toward the door. Graeme, of course, would never be so lacking in propriety as to kiss his wife in a room where anyone might walk in on them.

Abby suppressed a sigh and turned the conversation to a neutral topic. “It seems odd that someone would have shot that man. Why would anyone be harmed by my paying him to keep silent? I was the one who wanted to shut him up.”

“I suspect that if Baker was trying to extort money from you, he might very well have been playing the same game with others. Maybe someone else was not so willing to pay as you.”

“I suppose so. And maybe it was an accident that the man pushed me into the water. Or he feared I had seen his face—though I don’t know how I could have.”

“Perhaps. Still, I think you should be careful—promise me you will not leave the house alone.”

“Very well. I won’t.” Her spirits rose a little at the note of concern in his voice. “Graeme . . . did Mr. Baker have a wife? A family?”

“I don’t know him well. I used a different agent. But I believe he was married. Why?”

“I’d like to call on his wife. Do you know where he lived?”

“No, but I can find out.” He looked at her quizzically. “You want to offer your condolences?”

“He was there because he was giving me information.”

“You think you are to blame?”

“No, not to blame, but . . . I feel I owe him something. I was about to pay him when he was shot. I am sure his wife needs the money.”

“No doubt.”