In Bed with a Rogue
Page 37As they entered a residential area, the crowd thinned. “Do you have any family besides your mother and sister, Lord Thorne?”
“Mother has distant cousins in Dorset, but we rarely see them.”
She nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip. She wanted to tell him the truth about her past and Lavinia, but she feared him withdrawing his offer to help. If he knew about her father’s gambling and learned her sister was a whore, he might use her scandalous relations as an excuse to break his promise. Or worse, he could expose her as a fraud. All the friendships she had built and valued—Eve, Olive, the duchess, Lady Norwick—would be destroyed.
His brow furrowed. “Is something troublingyou, madam?”
“Not at all.” She breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded, seemingly content with her answer. “We are nearing my home. I suppose we should dispatch with the unpleasant task of you telling me your search continues to be fruitless.”
“I am sorry to bring you no news yet again, but there are still several places to check. If she isn’t working at one of the West End brothels, I will expand my search. Stay hopeful.” He flashed a dazzling smile. “I promise to visit every one, if I must.”
The thought that he might actually enjoy his part of their bargain made her stiffen. She tried not to imagine him mixing pleasure with business he conducted on her behalf, but flashes of him touching some faceless woman invaded her mind. A different woman each night.
A wave of nausea swept through her as a fine sheen covered her body. Her knees wobbled and she stumbled.
“What happened, lass?”
“She collapsed,” Lord Thorne said. “It’s too warm. I should have ordered a hack.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She tried to stand, but her head spun and she swayed.
Fergus’s concerned face loomed close. “We are almost home. Can you make it a little farther?”
“Yes,” she choked out, mortified by her weakness. She tried to pull away from the baron. “I can walk.”
Lord Thorne frowned. “If stubbornness came bottled, I would accuse you of overindulging.”
“Aye, she is as headstrong as the day is long.” Fergus smirked as he accepted the books the baron held out.
Lord Thorne scooped her into his arms and she squealed. The town house was only a three-minute jaunt at best. She could walk. Maybe.
She gawked as Fergus fell into step with the baron. He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “His lairdship means you no harm, lass.”
She bristled at his betrayal and Lord Thorne’s high-handed ways. She was a grown woman, perfectly capable of deciding if she had the strength to walk. When they reached her address, Fergus hurried ahead and held the door open. Lord Thorne carried her inside.
“You can put me down, sir.”
He headed for the drawing room without pause, deposited her on the couch, and knelt beside her. “Do you want to remove your bonnet?” He reached for the tie at her chin.
“I can do it,” she snapped.
His hand dropped to his knee and when she looked up into his anxious eyes, it was like spotting a ray of light breaking through a stormy sky. Lord Thorne wasn’t her husband and he wasn’t ordering her about. He appeared genuinely concerned.
Her head bowed with remorse. “Forgive me. I didn’t—” She swallowed her apology. How could she explain she had misunderstood his intentions when even Fergus had realized they were good?
He bobbed his head until he was in her line of sight. His grin melted her heart. “There is nothing to forgive, Lady Prestwick. I overstepped my bounds.”
“No, you were being a gentleman.”
She reached for a ribbon’s end and slowly pulled. The bow released and she slipped off her bonnet. Removing it did make her feel better. She tugged off her gloves too and handed everything to Lord Thorne. It was a symbolic surrender, at least partly. He likely didn’t interpret her actions that way, but it required great effort for her to trust a man to take care of her after her husband’s suffocating type of caring.