then.”
“Just take care, sweetling. Like Claybourne, Jack, and Jim, he is a scoundrel at heart.”
“And I’ve yet to hear any of their wives complain.”
C HAPTER F OUR
----
A rriving a little before half past seven, Graves circled the grounds to ensure that no one was lurking about. The threat of rain was in the air. He suspected it would arrive before they finished dinner.
After a footman opened the door for him, he waited in the foyer while the butler informed Her Grace of his presence. When he saw Winnie descending the stairs in a lilac gown that revealed bared shoulders, he knew coming this evening was mistake. He should have simply sat on the steps and kept an eye out, because all he wanted now was to carry her back up the stairs to her bedchamber.
Knowing the truth of her situation, he couldn’t in all good conscience offer her marriage, knowing it would make her a bigamist. But it didn’t stop him from wanting her. Her hair was plaited and twisted in some elaborate design, but his fingers were nimble enough that he could have the pins scattered on the floor and her hair tumbling around her in two seconds. The fastenings on the back of her gown might take four, her corset six. He forced such tempting calculations from his mind as they served no purpose other than to add to his frustration.
She was under his care, and he had a strict moral code when it came to his professional pursuits, but his desire saw the ruse for what it was and refused to cooperate. She wasn’t a patient, she wasn’t ill. She was someone who intrigued him.
As she neared, her jasmine scent filled his nostrils and he wanted to seek out all the little spots where she applied the fragrance.
“Would you care for a bit of brandy before dinner?” she asked.
What he wanted was an entire bottle of whiskey, or perhaps a dose of laudanum, to drown out his errant thoughts. With a practiced smile that he knew appeared harmless, he shook his head. “You’re intoxicating enough.”
She laughed joyfully and sweetly. “Rubbish! My word, but I had no idea you were such a flirt.”
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling without pretense. He enjoyed her company; he had from the moment she’d begun to regain her strength and charmed him with stories of her youth. A pampered daughter of the aristocracy who had married a man who delivered harsh lessons that destroyed her naivety but not her spirit. “Only when it comes to you.”
“I find that difficult to believe. I suspect all of Victoria’s ladies-in-waiting are stumbling over themselves to get your attention.”
“Your suspicions are without foundation. I fear my flirtation skills are a trifle rusty. I’ve not had much time for the ladies since I began serving Victoria.” The women for whom he’d had time were the sort who required nothing beyond coins.
She wrapped her hand around the crook of his elbow. “Shall we go into dinner then?”
“I’m famished.” He stopped short of saying he was famished for her. His true seduction would come after dinner because he wanted to ensure that he stayed in the residence throughout the night as close to her as possible. While he felt a niggling of guilt at the role he was about the play, he assuaged it by reminding himself that he was doing it to protect her.
Jack had sent a couple of his minions over to watch the residence, and Swindler had made arrangements for a few extra bobbies to patrol the streets, but Graves felt a need to take his own precautions to ensure that if her blasted husband was around, he would be near enough to deal with him—preferably with her being none the wiser.
He had Claybourne’s grandfather to thank for the manners he brought to the table with him. When the old gent had discovered his grandson was a child of the rookeries, he’d not only taken him in but taken in his friends as well. It was then that Graves had learned the comforts of a clean bed, a bath, clothes that fit properly. He never took
“Just take care, sweetling. Like Claybourne, Jack, and Jim, he is a scoundrel at heart.”
“And I’ve yet to hear any of their wives complain.”
C HAPTER F OUR
----
A rriving a little before half past seven, Graves circled the grounds to ensure that no one was lurking about. The threat of rain was in the air. He suspected it would arrive before they finished dinner.
After a footman opened the door for him, he waited in the foyer while the butler informed Her Grace of his presence. When he saw Winnie descending the stairs in a lilac gown that revealed bared shoulders, he knew coming this evening was mistake. He should have simply sat on the steps and kept an eye out, because all he wanted now was to carry her back up the stairs to her bedchamber.
Knowing the truth of her situation, he couldn’t in all good conscience offer her marriage, knowing it would make her a bigamist. But it didn’t stop him from wanting her. Her hair was plaited and twisted in some elaborate design, but his fingers were nimble enough that he could have the pins scattered on the floor and her hair tumbling around her in two seconds. The fastenings on the back of her gown might take four, her corset six. He forced such tempting calculations from his mind as they served no purpose other than to add to his frustration.
She was under his care, and he had a strict moral code when it came to his professional pursuits, but his desire saw the ruse for what it was and refused to cooperate. She wasn’t a patient, she wasn’t ill. She was someone who intrigued him.
As she neared, her jasmine scent filled his nostrils and he wanted to seek out all the little spots where she applied the fragrance.
“Would you care for a bit of brandy before dinner?” she asked.
What he wanted was an entire bottle of whiskey, or perhaps a dose of laudanum, to drown out his errant thoughts. With a practiced smile that he knew appeared harmless, he shook his head. “You’re intoxicating enough.”
She laughed joyfully and sweetly. “Rubbish! My word, but I had no idea you were such a flirt.”
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling without pretense. He enjoyed her company; he had from the moment she’d begun to regain her strength and charmed him with stories of her youth. A pampered daughter of the aristocracy who had married a man who delivered harsh lessons that destroyed her naivety but not her spirit. “Only when it comes to you.”
“I find that difficult to believe. I suspect all of Victoria’s ladies-in-waiting are stumbling over themselves to get your attention.”
“Your suspicions are without foundation. I fear my flirtation skills are a trifle rusty. I’ve not had much time for the ladies since I began serving Victoria.” The women for whom he’d had time were the sort who required nothing beyond coins.
She wrapped her hand around the crook of his elbow. “Shall we go into dinner then?”
“I’m famished.” He stopped short of saying he was famished for her. His true seduction would come after dinner because he wanted to ensure that he stayed in the residence throughout the night as close to her as possible. While he felt a niggling of guilt at the role he was about the play, he assuaged it by reminding himself that he was doing it to protect her.
Jack had sent a couple of his minions over to watch the residence, and Swindler had made arrangements for a few extra bobbies to patrol the streets, but Graves felt a need to take his own precautions to ensure that if her blasted husband was around, he would be near enough to deal with him—preferably with her being none the wiser.
He had Claybourne’s grandfather to thank for the manners he brought to the table with him. When the old gent had discovered his grandson was a child of the rookeries, he’d not only taken him in but taken in his friends as well. It was then that Graves had learned the comforts of a clean bed, a bath, clothes that fit properly. He never took
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