Page 71 of An Honorable Deception
Marigold was watching him, and no doubt reading every thought in his eyes as he thought it, because she was the most annoying sister in the history of humankind. And she didn’t approve of his conclusion, given the way she huffed out a breath and shook her head.
“Idiot,” she muttered, striding past him. “I’m going to revokeyourinvestigator’s license. And then I’m going to march straight up to Lavinia when she returns, promote her, and tell her to kiss you again until you admit you can’t imagine a future with anyone else.”
“Can so.” Did he sound like a pouty ten-year-old? Yes. Becauseshesounded like a know-it-all thirteen-year-old.
And he could. Couldn’t he? It was easy enough to picture Alethia here, smiling with the Caesars and playing with Penelope.It was no hardship to think about kissing her, pulling her into his arms. Maybe the fantasies didn’t plague him, but that was because he’d worked so hard to develop self-control in those matters. A testament to virtue, thank you very much—not proof he was still pining like a fool for Lavinia Hemming.
Though the image inspired by his sister’s words—kiss you again until you admit it—made his neck go hot and his throat dry.
The sound of an engine cut through the air, right on cue. They were back. Good. He could stop worrying. And go ... muck some stalls or something.
“Where do you think you’re going, young man?” Marigold had pointed herself toward the gate that would deliver her to the drive.
He’d aimed for the stables, but even with his back to her, she could probably see him roll his eyes at the motherly tone. “Anywhere else.”
“They could have news. There could be something on Babcock.”
Blast it all. He did an about-face but made no effort to clear the thunder from his face.
Marigold rolled her eyes too. “You’re such a child sometimes.” She took the lead, shifting so that she stayed between him and the car that had come to a halt before the front door. A few steps ahead, always in front of him—effectively blocking the view of his angry face from the occupants of the car.
He had a right to be angry. How could his sister really expect him to toss away six years of work becauseshedecided on some hidden meaning in what Lavinia had decidedlynotsaid after kissing him? Why now did she want him to risk his heart on her again? Better question, still: How was sheso sure Lavinia loved him when a few weeks ago she’d been lecturingheron keeping her distance?
Xavier was jogging around the bonnet to open Lavinia’s door. He offered a hand, hers settled on his palm, and a moment later, she was out.
Marigold glanced over her shoulder at him. His face must have relaxed, because hers did. She nodded and shifted to the side.
Lavinia did that thing she’d been doing for the past fortnight. She looked up, around, as anyone would. Her eyes settled on his for a split second—and then she quickly looked away.
This time, he wasn’t doing the same. This time, he didn’t flinch from that brief glance. He watched it. Watched the way her eyes flickered. Hope? Longing? Then, without question, pain.
He saw her again on the floor of the stall, straw settling like snow over her still form. He saw the way she’d looked up at him with an expression so raw he’d thought shemustbe having some sort of episode. He remembered the fear, the panic that had gripped him.
And the way her gaze had clung to his as she said those words he’d never in a million years expected her to say.Kiss me.
It wasn’tI love you. But why would it have been, even if it were true? He’d asked her what he could do to help. What he should do to make better whatever had gone wrong. And that had been her answer.Kiss me.
Why had that been her answer?
“Please tell me that’s not the look of one chap about to inform another that he got engaged to the girl.”
“Hmm?” He blinked, refocusing. Xavier stood before him, looking, he had to admit, more than a little concerned. And tired.
Alethia—he was talking about Alethia. Marigold and Lavinia had already gone inside, it seemed, leaving him to his musing. Yates mustered a smile. “Not yet. Didn’t seem sporting to make a move when you were off trying to help her.”
Xavier flashed him a smirk. “Your sense of honor’s going to be your downfall this time, old boy. BecauseImade sure the loudest gossips in London saw me down on one knee before her.”
“You can’t propose to a girl who’s not actually the girl. Doesn’t count.”
“That’s what Lavinia said—and while we’re on the subject, I’d like to lodge a complaint.”
Yates tamped down a grin as he turned to follow Marigold and Lavinia into the house. He really did like Xavier, even if his presence the past two weeks had been far from Yates’s plan. “This ought to be good.”
Xavier paused at the base of the stairs and pointed to the front door—closed again, but only because Marigold had shut it behind them. “It isn’t fair that Lavinia’s on your side in this little competition. I already have the handicap of age, not to mention the fact that you’re so blasted selfless and nice. But to have Lavinia makemetake her to London so that you can stay here with Alethia?” He shook his head. “Utterly unsporting.”
“You agreed rather readily, if I recall. Over my objections.”
He looked incredulous. “You think I’d refuse one of the few things I can do, if I thought it could help?” He made a face. “And yet I was rewarded by Lavinia giving me an hour-long lecture on the reasons why you and Alethia are perfect for each other, how the Tower is the perfect home for her, and why I ought to be a gentleman and step aside.”
