Page 99 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
CHAPTER 23
“I’ll be back soon,”Andrew said later that day, bending to kiss Amelia’s cheek as she sat behind her writing desk. “I have business to attend to.”
She frowned. “In the evening?”
“It was the only time the person I’m meeting was available.” He couldn’t bring himself to lie and say it was a man. He was already stretching the truth to a degree he felt uncomfortable with.
“Then come home soon.” She smiled at him, but there was something dark behind her eyes. “I have plans for you.”
A shaft of guilt lanced through him. She wouldn’t tease him so sweetly if she knew he was going to visit his former mistress.
“I’ll return as fast as I’m able.” He kissed her again, closing his eyes and savoring her faint minty scent. He drew back. “You’ll be so busy writing that you won’t even notice I’m gone.”
She didn’t laugh, and for some reason, her smile continued to not quite ring true. “Be safe.”
“Always.” He swept out before he could second-guesshimself. He’d made his choice, and it was time to tell his blackmailer what it was.
A plain carriage was waiting for him out the front of Longley House. He passed Boden, whose expression was etched with disapproval, and hurried down the front steps.
The sooner this was over with, the better.
He gave the driver the address and climbed in the back. While they traveled to Florence’s apartment, he considered how best to get his message across without any chance of a misunderstanding.
He’d have to be blunt.
He didn’t want to hurt her, but he also couldn’t allow her to ruin the life he was building with Amelia.
When they arrived, he asked his driver to wait around the corner, and he headed to the door and knocked. He could feel eyes on him, but whoever was watching him must be hiding, because there was no one in sight.
Nobody came to the door, so he tried the handle. It was unlocked. He gritted his teeth. That wasn’t safe when a building housed an unprotected woman. Fortunately, it worked to his advantage, but he’d have to remind her to be more careful.
He saw himself up to Florence’s apartment and knocked. Muffled noises came from inside, and then the door opened. Florence leaned against the doorframe, her wheaten hair spilling around her shoulders. She wore only a dressing gown, and her lips were unnaturally red.
“The front door was unlocked,” he informed her. “You should remind the landlord to lock it whenever they leave.”
She crossed her arms and scowled. “Did you just come here to lecture me like a child?”
“No. We need to talk.”
“Come in.” She stepped back, and her robe gaped open, revealing a long length of neck and the swell of her breasts.
He squeezed his eyes shut before his gaze sank lower. “Please cover yourself.”
“But wouldn’t you like to see me?” Her voice wrapped around him like a caress. “You’ve always enjoyed looking in the past.”
“That’s over.” He refused to open his eyes. “I’m no longer interested.”
There was a sigh, and then she said, “Everything is decent. You may look.”
Warily, he peered out between his lashes. Finding that she was telling the truth, he opened his eyes properly. “Thank you.”
She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. “Have you come to tell me of your decision?”
“I have.”
She reached for him, a smirk quirking the corner of her mouth, but he stepped away, and her hand fell to her side.
“You can spread whatever rumors you like,” he said. “My relationship with the countess is more important to me than my reputation. I will not be resuming our affair.”
