Page 94 of From Rakes to Riches

He grunted in response, walking backward a few steps before he turned without further complaint, perhaps remembering the way of things. He didn’t look back as he made his way across the grass and when he finally left the grandstand, she began warming her muscles with a series of stretches.

She practiced for nearly an hour, perfecting two new arm flourishes within her routine before she decided to stop. The sun had climbed high overhead. It was probably close to noon. She’d find Sofia and together they would eat lunch. Lola hadn’t had a chance yet to apologize for not meeting her last night.

She was on her way to the colonnade when she noticed Morland with a man and a woman near the rotunda on the north side of the main entrance. Vauxhall didn’t open for hours, so there was no reason for anyone to visit, unless it was connected to what had happened the other night. Keeping to the shadows, she moved closer in want of a better view. A beat later, she recognized Theodore in the company of a young, refined woman. The lady wore a long velvet cloak with the hood drawn up. She hung onto the earl’s elbow and his gloved hand rested onher fingers holding them in place. A flicker of disappointment squeezed Lola’s heart tight though she had no claims on the earl. It served as a timely reminder any foolish infatuation was better smothered out. Her emotions were a complicated tangle of knots that needed sorting.

She watched as Morland indicated a path leading to the pleasure gardens before he stepped away. Theodore and the lady continued down the walkway. Rejecting every obvious reason for their appearance, Lola followed. Curiosity wouldn’t allow her to back away.

“We’re stayingfifteen minutes and no longer. Are we agreed?” Theodore led Margaret onto the gravel path, keeping them as close to the dense hedgerow as possible. Even though Vauxhall was closed to the public, he wasn’t taking any chances. But no one seemed interested in their arrival and while he told himself not to look for a petite beauty with long black hair, he couldn’t help himself.

Ever since he’d met Lola last week, she’d lingered in his thoughts. He’d like to blame it on her soft curves, firm muscles, and tempting ripe lips, to label it lust and impulse, but the elusive feeling was something else.Something more.The promise of unspoken words. An intangible connection. The look in her eyes. While their worlds might be completely different, for no reason he could explain, he believed they shared an affinity.

“Thank you, Theo.” Margaret’s reply brought his focus to the present. “I know it may sound odd, but I have no way to say farewell to Stephen. If this is where he had his last moments, I’d like to spend time here and say a prayer.”

He nodded, hoping this experience would bring Margaret a modicum of peace. They arrived at the same spot he’d visited two days before. The same day he’d followed Lolaafter she’d left the tent. Remembering that morning, he looked over his shoulder and was startled to see the empty tightrope platform distinctly outlined against the bright sky. The rotunda and grandstand were too low to the ground to offer a clear vantage point in viewing the inside of the pleasure garden, but that wasn’t true of the tightrope platform. Fredrickson had mentioned the guests were watching a performance during the time of the murder.Lola’s act.The realization she must have seen something more struck him like a hot ember.

He needed to talk to her.

When Margaret finished, he explained his reasoning and deposited her in his carriage where it waited on the corner. He followed the oyster shell path through the gates and aimed toward the grandstand this time, but he didn’t walk far. Lola stood just beyond the entrance, almost as if she’d waited for him.

“Why have you returned? Have you nothing better to do with your time?”

Her words were a challenge in that same tart tone that made him want to kiss her as much as contradict her. Desire pulsed through him stronger than ever. For all the sadness and regret at hearing of Fremont’s murder, Lola made him feel alive.

“I have a few unanswered questions.”

“I told you everything I know. Why don’t you bother the Runners instead?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, the sunlight skimming down the silky lengths as they slid to her back.

“Would you endure one more conversation?”

“No.” She sounded angry now. He didn’t know why. Her gaze traveled over him slowly from his collar to his boots. “I don’t want anyone here seeing me talking to you again. That will only invite trouble.”

“I understand,” he agreed, giving the surround a cursory glance. “My carriage is parked at the corner of Frazier Street.Can you walk there? We can take a ride. I’ll have you back in plenty of time before this evening’s show.”

He could see the indecision in her expression. Her chin jutted up the slightest.

“I will be there in a few minutes,” she said begrudgingly. “How will I know which carriage is yours?”

“My crest is on the door.”

“Of course it is.” She rolled her eyes, but he noticed the trace of a smile curled her lips.

He walked away, knowing he was drawing her further into his life for more than good reason and selfishly not caring.

He was dressedas an ordinary gentleman today. Gone was the long greatcoat, expensive waistcoat and intricately folded cravat. For whatever reason, Theodore had worn a white linen shirt and fitted brown trousers. Perhaps to avoid attention, she couldn’t know why. But she’d noticed. From the vee of smooth skin at his neck, shadow of dark chest hair beneath his shirt, to the sinful way his muscular thighs moved beneath the fabric of his trousers. She’d definitely noticed.

Yet he was still beyond her reach.

She left without preamble, walking to the corner as she noted the sudden change in weather. Clouds shadowed the sun in increasing shades of gray. Perhaps there would be no show tonight. No reason to hurry back to Vauxhall. She wouldn’t mind a night spent at home alone.

Finding his coach without trouble, she knocked lightly on the door. When it opened, she paused. The same woman from the pleasure paths was seated inside, her velvet cloak draped across the entirety of the right bench. Their eyes met but the woman remained quiet.

Theodore sat on the opposite bench, half of which was empty. She had no choice but to sit beside him, otherwise lingering in the street midway inside a nob’s carriage would surely come back to haunt her.

The door fell closed. The interior of the carriage was extravagant as would be expected, but it was equally as warm. Theodore sat too closely beside her. He radiated heat, his enticing cologne all the more noticeable for his proximity. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The hard press of his thigh against hers was impossible to ignore, the thin layers of her skirt no barrier to his strength. Desire, raw and insistent, unfurled deep within her. She drew a breath, taking in his intoxicating scent and at the same time steeling herself against the sensation it caused. She didn’t want to want him.

Together they’d become tangled in a difficult situation, and it would be wise not to make it more complicated.

“What is it you want?” She asked to keep her mind focused on something other than the delicious heat of his thigh.

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