Page 35 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
This was where Lucy needed to involve her friends. She’d tell her grandmother that she was visiting Aquilla. “She never rises that early. I’ll be able to meet you in the park.” She’d sneak out of the house in her costume with her maid’s assistance.
He looked at her again, and it seemed the seductive haze of their kiss had dissipated. He was all business and concern. “How?” He arched a brow at her. “I should like to know how you will accomplish the feat of leaving your house in broad daylight without anyone noticing you’re dressed as a man.”
Lucy wasn’t entirely sure. Which was why she needed her friends. She edged toward the house, eager for this evening to be over. “I’ll manage. Thank you.”
He frowned. “You’ll let me know if I can assist in any way?”
“I shall, but I daresay you’ve done enough.” She hadn’t meant it to sound as if he’d donetoomuch but wondered if he’d taken it that way.
He looked away and stiffened. “I see. I’ll send you the wig tomorrow.”
She resisted the urge to make sure he knew how much she appreciated his help and his concern. She’d never known a man like him before. Couple that startling realization with his intoxicating kisses, and she feared she was in far more trouble than she’d been at the gaming hell.
“Good night.” She turned and practically dashed inside, eager to toss away her gentleman’s costume and, for the first time, relish the fact that she was a woman.
Until she recalled that, for the first time, she’d come home with less money than she’d left with. She needed to regain what she’d lost and more. As much as she hated losing money, she was glad to have something to focus on besides kissing Dartford.
Tuesday’s phaeton races couldn’t come fast enough.
Chapter Seven
Andrew waited until Miss Parnell was safely inside her house before starting up the street. He walked with purpose and speed, his mind churning over the foolishness he’d perpetrated in the hack. He’d never meant to kiss her. If he could take it back, he would.
Would he?
Perhaps not, he realized somewhat grimly. Still, it couldn’t happen again. Not that he expected it to. She’d seemed utterly horrified afterward and had practically run inside to escape his company. He didn’t blame her. He’d behaved in a reprehensible fashion. He was supposed to be her protector—like an older brother. He shuddered at the thought, both because of the implications of being related to her by blood while also being attracted to her and because he couldn’t imagine having family again.
Family.
He threw that thought right out of his brain before he had to resort to the gin bottle.
Quickening his pace, he turned his mind to other, more pleasant things such as the balloon ride next week. By the time he reached his house, he felt much more relaxed and could almost forget about what had happened in the coach.
Almost.
His valet greeted him in his bedchamber. “Good evening, sir. You’re in early tonight.”
“A bit, yes.” Thanks to the fracas at the hell. He supposed he could’ve got up with Beaumont and the others, but after the incident in the coach, he preferred his own company.
Tindall took Andrew’s coat and followed him into the dressing room that adjoined his bedchamber. Not for the first time, Andrew considered elaborating on their conversation, but it was important to him to keep relationships with his retainers aloof and disconnected. They were employees who came and went, not an extension of his family as they’d once been. Again, his mind threatened to hurtle down that dark path, but he refused to allow it.
“Tindall, you’ve been with me over two years now.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And you’re aware that I don’t keep valets longer than two years?” Andrew had told him that when he’d hired him. He made a point of hiring young men who sought a valet position but had little or no experience. Andrew gave them the experience they needed as well as an excellent reference. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.
“I am, my lord. I did wonder why you’d kept me on this long.”
Andrew wondered why too. He’d told himself it was too close to the Season to turn him loose, but it would’ve been a good time for Tindall to make a transition. Now he felt like a clod.
Andrew pulled off his cravat and handed it to the young man. Well, a few years younger than Andrew’s twenty-nine years, anyway. “It’s probably time for you to move on. Of course I’ll provide an outstanding reference.”
Tindall bent his head as he folded the cravat in half. “I do appreciate that, my lord.” When he looked up, his dark eyes were bold, and his chin jutted. “I wonder if you might allow me to stay on a month or so. My mother is ill, and I’m afraid all my spare time is being spent caring for her and overseeing her care. I pay a woman to attend her while I am at work.”
Andrew’s fingers froze in unbuttoning his waistcoat. A wave of ice slammed into him, and a cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. “Your mother is ill? Why didn’t you say something?”
Tindall blinked. The courage was gone from his gaze, replaced with confusion and uncertainty. “I didn’t wish to trouble your lordship.”
