Page 22 of The Devil and the Heiress
The coil of desire that seemed to always possess him inher presence made itself known, tightening deep in his gut. A vision of her on her knees in the carriage repaying him ran through his mind. She was entirely too naive to have meant those words the way his body had taken them. A quick glance at her innocent face assured him that he was every bit the lecher in this scenario.
He would not seduce her innocence away from her, not until they were married. That flicker of guilt returned, putting a fine edge of pain on his desire for her. The gossips would have told her that he was not some bastion of virtue. She must know that men like him were to be avoided. He had even heard Lady Helena warn her away. She should have run from him, or at least made him chase her down the pavement, forced to prove his good intentions. But no, she had put her small hand in his and allowed him to help her into his carriage. The wolf leading the innocent astray.
“A gentleman never requires payment from a lady for a good deed.” His voice came out like gravel, forcing him to clear his throat. Christ. They had been in the carriage for only a handful of minutes. How would he survive days with her on the trip to Scotland?
“Nevertheless, I don’t aspire to charity.” She leaned over and pulled the thick curtain back to peek out at the museum as they passed the front. “I hope to repay my debt.”
“Who are you running away from today?”
“My chaperone,” she answered a bit absently as she scoured the courtyard, which was all but empty as the rain came harder. “She doesn’t seem to have noticed my absence yet.” She gave him another smile as she let the curtain drop.
“Something must have happened since I spoke with you at the ball to send you running. Did Ware propose?”
“Not to me, no, but my parents have already accepted on my behalf.”
“Did you speak to them, then?”
She shook her head. “There’s no need. Past experience tells me it won’t work to change their mind, and I didn’t want to give them any hint of my plans to run away.”
He nodded at her sound reasoning. “You should consider going directly to King’s Cross. If you make a stop at Lady Helena’s, you could be seen or potentially delayed. The moment your chaperone notices you missing, she can have people out searching for you. If anyone sees you on the street, or even if Lady Helena herself sees you, then it might be too late to leave.” The truth was that he was worried she would encounter Lady Helena and the woman would talk her out of leaving. If she found out that Violet would be in his company, then there would be no question of the woman allowing her to leave with him.
“Lady Helena is not at home, so she won’t see me. She was leaving early this morning for her cottage in the country. I already let her know I would retrieve my things today. Unfortunately, I’ll simply have to take the risk of someone else seeing me.”
He hid his relief. “Your bag isn’t important enough to risk being seen. You can acquire ready-made clothing at a shop along your way. Actually, I would advise it. You need more common clothes to blend in with other travelers. As soon as it’s known that one of the Crenshaw heiresses has run off, you’ll be noticed in no time.” She appeared very much the heiress as she was dressed now. “How many wealthy American women are traveling alone?”
For the first time she appeared to be in distress as her brow creased. “I am concerned about the state of my clothing, but there is no help for it. I’ll arrive at my destination by the morning...” Her voice trailed off as she realized she let slip that bit of information. “I will arrange for more suitable clothing there. But I still have to stop at Lady Helena’s. I’ve left something very important to me there, and I have to take it with me.”
“What could be important enough to risk being found before you have even left?”
She seemed to wrestle with telling him. The longer she was silent, the more he wanted to know the answer. Finally, she sighed. “It’s my manuscript. I won’t leave it behind.”
“Your manuscript?”
“I have written a novel. Don’t ask me for details, because I’m not ready to share it, but I won’t leave it behind. It’s the only copy I have.”
He nodded. “No, I won’t, and I understand why you wouldn’t leave it.”
He was possibly the only nobleman in England who would be willing to allow her to pursue her writing. He was the only one who did not give a damn what Society had to say about it, because his finances were not reliant on his connections. The club’s clientele were discontent younger sons, aristocratic cousins, merchants, and foreign money—all snubbed by the Society clubs. His cooperation was a rather large mark in his favor, if he could simply convince her.
“Thank you for understanding.” Her gaze settled on him again. Her eyes were all things hopeful and good as she watched him, and then an eyebrow quirked upward. “How did you know that I was retrieving a bag from Lady Helena’s?”
Naive, but not unintelligent. He would have to remember that about her. “Did you not mention it was a bag?” he asked.
“No, I’m certain that I did not.” Her gaze narrowed.
He cursed inwardly. The last thing he needed was for her to find out he’d been all but spying on her. His conscience, long in its death throes, was once again pricked. “An assumption, Miss Crenshaw. Who would make a grand escape without a change of clothing?” He gave her what he hoped was a bland look.
She regarded him a moment longer and then nodded. “Forgive me. I’m too anxious.”
She appeared so trusting of him that he had to fight himself to not confess to his own nefarious intentions. He looked away instead. “I did not know you are a writer.”
“If my mother had her way, no one would ever know. Another reason why I must leave if I’m ever to pursue it seriously. It’s why I’m going where I’m going.” She took a breath, and from the corner of his eye, he saw her silently castigate herself for saying too much.
“Where? You’ve leased a quiet country home somewhere?”
She shook her head. “I won’t say. It’s best if you don’t know in case you’re ever questioned.”
He fell silent as he considered her destination, curious now in spite of his own intention that she never reach the place.
