Page 76 of The Moonstone Pirate
Imogen blushed.
Good grief.
How could she not have an answer prepared for this obvious question?
“I knew his scorching kiss had to mean something!” Deandra squealed again. “Did Draco ask for your hand in marriage? Did you accept him? Have you set a wedding date?”
Imogen felt the blood drain from her face.
Draco’s expression revealed nothing. So typical of him. Completely unhelpful.
Her uncle, who would have been reaching for his pistol if he carried one, now turned in all his fury toward Draco. “What kiss?”
Chapter Twelve
Draco tossed hiscousin a glower. “Imogen and I are not getting married. Stop this foolishness already, Deandra. Look at the havoc you are creating.”
Bollocks.
He did not know who looked more heartsick at his remark, her or Imogen.
Lord help him, if he did not have the entanglement of this assignment, he would be on bended knee right now proposing to Imogen.
But to do so now was sheer folly. Had they not just spent the last twenty minutes in her uncle’s study going over every detail of his dangerous assignment?
He sighed, wishing for the day he could draw her into his arms and assure her his words were utter rot and he loved her to pieces. Did that second kiss not give his feelings away?
He saw the disappointment in Deandra’s eyes.
Worse, he saw the hurt in Imogen’s.
However, she understood his reasons, and immediately leaped to defend his honor. “He has behaved like a gentleman all the while. Let us not make too much of a simple kiss. It was not all that good, anyway.”
Draco cleared his throat.
Like hell it wasn’t.
“And you did far worse, Uncle Cormac. Do you dare deny it? Why, Melrose still has tormented dreams about your first weeks here. Those nights of debauchery. Naked women—”
“Imogen! Enough. This is not about me.”
She was not about to give up. “And what about your appalling behavior toward Aunt Phoebe? You kissed her every chance you got, and—”
“Lord have mercy,” her uncle groaned, and turned to Draco. “Go home, Woodley. You are spared my wrath for now. But if I hear of you ever touching my niece again without a firm declaration of marriage and vow to be faithful, I shall run you through with my sword.”
“Fair enough,” Draco muttered, sparing another glower at Deandra. He bade a hasty good evening to everyone and left Westgate Hall knowing he was leaving Imogen and his cousin bitterly disappointed.
Well, it could not be helped.
He spent the next week riding off on his own with Parrot always by his side. There was nothing more left for him to do but await word from the Home Office. However, he could not completely ignore Imogen or his own cousin, nor could he ignore the kindness of Burness and his wife in keeping his cousin and uncle with them at Westgate Hall. It had to be an imposition, especially since Albert had not wanted to leave Woodley Lodge and still grumbled bitterly about it to everyone who would listen.
But Draco had insisted he leave the comfort of the Woodley library because it was more important to keep his loved ones safe. He could not afford for them to be used as pawns against him should matters turn sour when those guns arrived. He was dealing with dangerous men and not certain who those men would be, since Healey and Burke were sure to be replaced.
Draco’s thoughts turned to his impending meeting with McTavish. Their rendezvous was to take place at the ThreeLions tomorrow, which was why he had taken to stopping by that tavern every afternoon for an ale and conversation with its owner, William Angel. His real purpose was to familiarize himself with the layout of the place, make note of the regular patrons and any strangers who stopped in, and work out the best escape routes if things did not go as smoothly as hoped.
He intended to stop in again this afternoon. The hour was early yet, only midmorning, and he happened to be escorting Imogen and Deandra to the army hospital because Burness could not manage the chore today. Draco had insisted on attending to it because he did not trust anyone else to watch over them with less than twenty-four hours to go before McTavish’s arrival.
Viscount Brennan had permitted Imogen and the other regular volunteers to return to their duties several days ago. Deandra, who had attached herself to Imogen like a barnacle to the keel of a ship, accompanied her to the hospital every day.
