Page 37 of A Daring Pursuit

One disaster diverted until the outer chamber door opened and Lady Westbridge marched in as if fire were licking her heels.

Swallowing a groan that nearly choked her, Geneva donned the cloak that served her well in dealing with her editor atThe Flying Intelligencer.She needn’t have bothered.

“Miss Wimbley, I was able to repair the latch on your window,” Mr. Oshea said.

Lady Westbridge’s eyes pinned him. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Oshea. It’s quite obvious what’s going on.”

Mr. Oshea straightened to his full, imposing height. “And just what is it you believe is going on, my lady?” His composure was beyond admirable. It was enviable.

How did he manage to remain so calm? Just being in the same room with Lady Westbridge raised the boiling point of Geneva’s blood, and not in a fashionable way. She was ready to stalk to the woman and poke her in her overexposed bosom and tell her to mind her own affairs.

Lady Westbridge’s eyes narrowed.

The door behind Geneva creaked and she was tugged unceremoniously back inside Abra’s chamber. “Quick, help me with the ties,” Abra hissed.

“Where the devil is Pasha?” Geneva hissed back. She stared at the frock Abra had slipped on.

“I told her to get something to eat. She hasn’t returned,” she whispered. “Hurry.”

“Lady Westbridge will never let you out of her sight now.”

“Don’t you think I know that? What did she say?” Abra straightened her spine, but the buttons were a cumbersome bunch.

“Hush, I can’t concentrate.”

“Ha.” Abra’s feet shifted, knocking Geneva’s fingers loose from their rhythm. “Can’t you go any quicker?”

“I’m trying, blast it. Stay still.” Geneva kept steady progress on her task while weighing the words in her head. But she and Abra had shared everything since their days at Miss Greensley’s. If she couldn’t share this, then… She drew in a deep breath. “Your horrid stepmother accused me and Mr. Oshea of something nefarious, of course.”

“She’s the devil’s own, for certain. Which reminds me, what in heaven’s name was he doing in your bedchamber?” Abra shook out her skirts and spun around. “I’m waiting.”

“He offered to assist me…”

Abra’s brows rose.

“In locating my locket,” she huffed out in an overly defensive breath.

“That libertine. I just saw him sneaking from your chamber.” Abra clutched Geneva’s hands. “Don’t do it, darling. Men don’t offer to assist a woman from the good of their heart. He will expect something in return.”

That wasn’t anything Geneva had thought. He’d been so… so sincere. “What are you talking about?” Then again, there was that blasted kiss.

“Much as I hate offering Miss Hale any credit, I fear she’s right. He wishes to force you into becoming his mistress for his help. There’s no other explanation.”

Geneva scowled. “You just said any man would be lucky to have me.”

“He’s crossed a line. I take back everything nice I said about him.” Abra squeezed her hands. “Darling, it’s commonknowledge that men from titled families are referred to as gentlemen, but many are definitely not.”

Geneva yanked her hands away, impatient, frightened, every insecurity she possessed assaulting her. “I never said that I went to him for help. He came to me.” She poked her thumb in her chest, then rubbed the spot. “He asked my reasons for coming to Stonemare and I decided to tell him the truth.” She scrunched her nose. “Most of it, anyway.” She hadn’t told anyone about the man in the greatcoat and her mother begging him to “take her too.” That would require too much explanation she couldn’t explain, even to herself.

That rendered her friend silent… For half a second. “Oh. I suppose that’s good. Are you finished? I’m stunned my stepmother hasn’t yet stormed my bedchamber.”

“Yes, yes. I’m finished.” Geneva stood back and looked her over. “Almost perfect. Straighten your hair.”

Unfortunately, their good fortune ran out. The door flew back.

Lady Westbridge’s willowy frame filled the arch. “What are you doing here?” she demanded of Geneva. Her gaze surveyed the lovely room with its bright blue hue and touches of pink. “I insist you locate to another chamber immediately.”

Abra’s mouth dropped and Geneva was sure her own expression mirrored her friend’s. “That is quite impossible, Mother,” Abra said through a clenched jaw.

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