“Oh, ’tis beautiful, my lady.” The maid sighed as she ran her hands over the smooth satin skirt.
Simone could not deny a measure of pride.
The floating concoction of satin and lace was indeed beautiful and highly unusual with its clever flounced hem that revealed the ivory underskirt and the bodice of spidery lace. As with all of her gowns, however, it possessed a high back that cupped the back of her neck. She could not afford to allow a sudden shift in the shimmering material to reveal the scars that she hid.
“Yes, I am quite pleased with the material,” she murmured in satisfaction. “No doubt it has been smuggled into London, but it is far too lovely to go to waste.”
“Will you trim it with the satin roses you purchased last week?” the maid demanded.
Simone briefly considered the delicate gown, then gave a firm shake of her head.
“No, they are too heavy for such a gown. I believe the seed pearls will be the best.”
“A wise choice, my dear,” a darkly familiar voice complimented from the open French doors.
Spinning about, Simone confronted the intruder with an exasperated frown. Attired yet again in black with a smoke-gray waistcoat and snowy white cravat and with his ebony hair tied at the nape of his neck he appeared annoyingly refreshed—while she knew that she was pale and her eyes shadowed from a sleepless night.
The disturbance of having Mr. Soltern in her home, combined with Gideon’s abrupt departure had been unnerving enough without risking a return of the nightmares that had begun to plague her. She had spent most of the long night pacing the floor of her chamber, or peering out of her window with a disturbing sense that she was being watched by unseen eyes.
She had hoped that a morning spent finishing the lovely ball gown would ease the tension that gripped her. There was something very relaxing in simply working with her hands. Now, she felt that foreboding returning.
Gideon was trouble walking.
Whenever he appeared her nerves were certain to be shredded and left raw. Not to mention the vague sense of danger he carried with him.
And yet ...
Yet, she could not deny a swirl of sheer excitement that raced through her as she met that midnight gaze. She suddenly felt more alive, more vibrantly aware of being a woman in his presence.
He might be trouble, but she could not deny a burning desire to brand him as her own. She wanted to ensnare him to her will, and ensure he was incapable of walking away.
It was all vastly confusing.
“Gideon,” she forced herself to greet him as he calmly stepped into the room and regarded the piles of discarded material and scraps of lace. “It is customary to arrive at the front door and await to have yourself announced. Do you possess no sense of gentlemanly behavior at all?”
He shrugged as he lifted his head to offer her a faint smile. “Very few.”
Knowing it was impossible to shame him into leaving, Simone waved a hand toward the curious maid. She did not wish her servants to realize she was nearly always at the mercy of this arrogant gentleman.
“That will be all, Daisy.”
With a longing glance toward the fiercely handsome gentleman the maid gave a swift curtsy.
“Yes, my lady.”
Waiting until they were alone, Simone folded her arms around her waist.
“Well, now that you are here, what do you want?”
Rather than answering her question Gideon reached out pale fingers to lightly stroke the satin of her ball gown.
“Quite striking. You will be breathtaking in this, of course. The obvious question is why.”
She frowned at his low words. “What?”
The dark gaze abruptly rose. “Clearly you have a fortune to lavish upon yourself. Why would you choose to sew your gowns as if you were a pauper?”
Simone determinedly kept her features expressionless. She had managed to keep her lack of a modiste a secret since coming to London. She could not allow all her efforts to be ruined now.
“It is a task I enjoy.”
He dismissed her words with an elegant wave of his hand. “I do not doubt you enjoy the task, you are very talented, but that does not explain why you would willingly perform such a menial chore. Ladies such as yourself are very careful to maintain the image of utter leisure.”
Her jaw set at his unwelcome probing. Unlike most decent people she encountered he would not be bound by common manners. She was uncertain that he possessed any manners, common or otherwise.
“What I do with my own time is no one’s concern but my own, surely?”
“What is it you hide, Simone?” he demanded softly.
“Hide? I have nothing to hide.” She regarded him with a challenging gaze. “You are the one who wraps yourself in mystery.”He regarded her for a long moment before his gaze deliberately narrowed.
“I will have the truth from you eventually.”
Simone refused to acknowledge the faint shiver of warning that feathered over her skin. Nothing short of death would ever make her confess her past. Nothing.
“Why are you here?” she said in clipped tones.
As if sensing she had firmly dug in her heels, Gideon favored her with a lift of his brows, but thankfully followed her lead.
“I wished to make amends.”
Simone couldn’t prevent her startled blink. He wished to apologize? She would have thought the sun would tumble from the sky first.
“For what precisely?” she demanded. “Intruding into my home without warning? Attempting to terrify me with vague threats of danger only you can protect me from? Or arrogantly presuming I desire you?”
Not surprisingly her taunts made not the slightest impression in his cool composure. She was uncertain what it would possibly take to actually ruffle this man.
Absently toying with the heavy gold ring he wore upon a slender finger, he strolled toward her.
“I do not consider my occasional visits as intrusions and I assure you that the danger that surrounds you is very real. And as for my arrogance”—he gave a lift of one broad shoulder—“there is nothing arrogant in the truth.”
She rolled her eyes heavenward. “You are impossible.”
“Ah, but I have not yet finished. I do regret leaving you so abruptly at the ball and again last evening. It was most inconsiderate of me.”
Simone opened her mouth to readily agree he had been inconsiderate. She was unaccustomed to gentlemen who willingly abandoned her with such disregard. Then, the realization that she would be revealing the fact that she had been injured by his careless manner halted the impulsive words. Instead she forced a bland smile to her lips.
“Did you leave abruptly? How odd. To be honest, I hardly noticed.”
“You did not notice?” An unmistakable hint of amusement smoldered in the dark eyes.
“No.” She paused before curiosity overcame her pride. “Although I am intrigued of this duty you spoke of. I suppose it is dreadfully important?”
“A tedious business that would not interest you. Besides, at the moment, my only duty is devoting a few hours to a beautiful woman,” he retorted with smooth charm.
Her lips thinned. She wondered if she would ever learn anything of the man beneath his cool sophistication.
Or why it was so important that she should.
“That is no answer.”
He glanced toward the forgotten ball gown upon the table. “It is as good an answer as why you choose to make your own gowns.”
The thrust slid home with annoying ease.
He did not have to say he was not about to reveal any more of himself than she was prepared to do.
She gave an annoyed shake of her head. He was like fencing with a master.
“You have offered your apology and I accept. Is that all?”
He mildly regarded her frown. “Actually, I had hoped you would agree to join me for a short drive.”
Once again he managed to catch her off guard. “Now?”
“Unless you have other plans?”
She hesitated. The man annoyed her, mocked her, and if she were perfectly honest, rather frightened her. But the lure of spending more time in his company was undeniable.
Hadn’t she promised herself to bring him to heel?
She could hardly do so if she were cowardly avoiding his company.
Sucking in a calming breath she managed an offhand shrug. “No, I have no other plans.”
“Good.” He moved to hold out his arm. “Shall we go?”
Silently branding herself an idiot, Simone allowed herself to be led from the back room toward the foyer. It took a moment for a maid to fetch her gloves and parasol that she chose in favor of a bonnet. Then, ignoring the urge to rush upstairs and change into something a bit more dashing than the plain jade gown, she consented to take Gideon’s arm once again as he escorted her out of the house and into the startling white and gold carriage, pulled by perfectly matched gray horses.
Although it was still May the heat of the sun made it feel surprisingly warm. Arranging herself on the leather seat of the carriage, Simone quickly raised her parasol, relieved when Gideon set the grays into motion, stirring a pleasant breeze.
Her relief was short-lived, however, when she realized they were not headed in the direction of the park as she had expected, but instead toward the less populated outskirts of London.