Page 151 of Rakes & Reticules
“That’s too much, my lord,” he heard her say. But his eyes were closed as the berries and sweet pastry hit his tongue.
He shook his head. “I’d pay twice that for one of these.” Licking his lips, he grinned at her.
“I’d be happy to give you another to take with you for that price. Or would you like some shortbread?” Her head tilted as she asked, and he spied her slender neck. Imagined placing kisses along its graceful arch.Blast! She’s most likely married.
“I’d wager your husband is one happy man.” Her expression almost made him curse out loud.Nodcock!
“I’m a widow.” Her tone was subdued, and her gaze flickered to him and then to the ground. With a forced smile, she lifted the shortbread. “Why don’t you try it?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine. You meant no harm, my lord.” Her lovely cheeks turned pink.
“I’m no lord. Dr. Sampson Brooks at your service.” He extended his hand, putting on the charming smile that always worked for his patients.
“Mrs. Brown,” she said, taking his hand.
At the touch of her palm, a jolt of pleasure shot up his arm. A sensation he’d never experienced. It was exciting and terrifying. His mother’s words came back to him from long ago.
I knew your father was the one the moment he kissed my hand. A woman just knows.
What about men? Did a manjust know? Sam realized she was waiting for him to release her hand, but he was still gripping her fingers. His cheeks burned until she laughed. A sound so sweet that it put him at ease, and he found himself chuckling along with her.
“I believe I will try that shortbread. You seem to have a magic touch.” He rolled his eyes, still feeling the warmth of her skin on his. “With tarts, er, baking.”
“Thank you, Dr. Brooks. I’ll accept the compliment.” She handed him the bread. “Enjoy your ride.”
“Yes, ma’am—Mrs. Brown,” he returned, tipping his hat. “I hope we meet again.”
“I’m here every Sunday. Bring your friends.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “The more the merrier as they say.”
Sam walked away, leading Jack with one hand and eating the shortbread with the other. Once inside the park, he spotted Walters and waved. The lovely blonde next to him also lifted her arm in greeting, but it was the unfamiliar raven-haired woman who had Sam’s jaw clenched. He knew this had been a ruse.
“Brooks! Good to see you, mon,” the Welshman said a little too enthusiastically. His stiff smile told Sam that his friend had been duped as well. “We just happened to meet up with—” He looked questioningly at Lady Matilda.
“Dr. Brooks, may I present Miss Halden? Her father is—”
“A banker. I believe I met Mr. Halden at a meeting of the Magdalen Hospital.” He bowed to the pretty lady. “It’s a pleasure.” He would cut this off as soon as politely possible. He preferred lighter hair and more petite, curvy women to the willowy dark type before him.
“Oh yes, the home for wayward women. How generous of you to help such a charity.”
“We must all do our part,” Sam agreed, stepping back beside his brother.
“Did ye finish the autopsy?” Walters asked quietly as they all proceeded to move forward, the ladies in front.
“Yes, and it was as we thought. The man didn’t drown—unless someone followed him into the Thames and then stabbed him repeatedly underwater.” He paused, remembering the gruesome sight under the dead man’s clothes. “He was wearing a wool coat in August, which I would assume was to soak up the blood while they transported him to the river. The bruises all over his body, and the differences between them, indicate he may have been tortured for some time before being dumped.”
Walters snorted. “That’s what I needed to know. I’ll start with who he was seen with last. I wonder if they got the information they wanted—or didn’t want him talking. Mayhap an interrogation gone wrong.”
“If anyone can find the truth, it’s you, Brother.”
Walters nodded. “And I didn’t mean to ambush ye.”
Walters, a stocky barrel-chested master of disguise, was the lead detective for Paddy’s Peelers. His work to uncover a plot to murder the Prime Minister and all the British cabinet members, now dubbed the Cato Street Conspiracy, had earned him a knighthood. That had given him the courage to finally court an earl’s sister. Though the willing earl, Lord Darby, was also a friend and a previous client.
“Ladies,” Sam said with a bow, “I’m afraid I must leave you. It was a pleasure to see you again, my lady, and to meet you, Miss Halden.”
“Do not be a stranger,” Miss Halden said in a husky voice, her lips in a plump pout. Those dark eyes danced with experience an unmarried woman should not yet have.
