Page 45 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
Because for a gentleman, Miss Parnell was small. At least in height, and even though she padded herself, she didn’t appear very large. Another conversation he didn’t care to have today and more scrutiny he’d rather she didn’t receive. He glanced at Greene before taking his leave. “Please excuse me.”
He cut through the crowd and finally reached her side. He whispered next to her ear, “You need to go.”
She nodded. “My coach is waiting.” She started to turn, but that bloody Greene had caught up to them and stopped her, his hand catching her elbow. Andrew miraculously stopped himself from slapping his hand away. Touching her like that was precisely what had led Andrew to realize she wasn’t what she seemed.
Miss Parnell extricated herself quickly and efficiently, however. Andrew hoped she’d been fast enough to prevent Greene from discerning anything.
“Smitty, I hear your shooting is something to be seen,” Greene said. “Perhaps you’d care to demonstrate?”
Hellfire.She needed to leave, but he didn’t think she would, not with the temptation of shooting dangling before her.
She coughed. “I shall sometime.”
She started to turn, but Greene said, “Why not now?”
“Because I didn’t bring my weapon.” Her tone was dark and clipped—both manly and haughty.
Andrew stifled a smile, unsurprised that she could hold her own. “We’ll arrange a shooting exhibition soon.”
“Next Tuesday after the racing,” Greene said. He pinned Miss Parnell with a direct stare. “I shall look forward to it.”
She made a sound that was a sort of grunt of agreement. Yes, she was becoming quite an accomplishedman.
She collected her winning from Nevins and searched Andrew out with her eyes. Once their gazes connected, she inclined her head toward where her coach stood.
Andrew nodded slightly and left the crowd, joining her on the way to her coach. “Who loaned you their vehicle?”
“Lady Satterfield.”
Andrew nearly tripped. “She knows of your charade?”
“Heavens, no. My friend Aquilla is her ward. She arranged it.”
“How enterprising.”
“When are we going out again?” she asked as they neared the coach.
“I don’t know. The other night has given me pause.” He realized as soon as he said it that she could interpret that one of two ways.
She looked at him sharply. “You don’t mean to end our agreement prematurely, do you? I still require more funds.”
He was relieved—but maybe also a trifle annoyed—when she didn’t mention him kissing her. He didn’t like thinking that she was so unaffected while he had been just the opposite. “No, I said I would help you reach your goal, and I shall. Tonight?”
“Half past eleven at the corner.”
He stopped a few feet from the coach. “Perhaps we should go tomorrow night to give your poor face a respite.” When she blinked at him, he clarified. “So you don’t have to wear the facial hair again.”
She looked away. “I appreciate your concern, but I shall be fine.” She turned and walked away without another word, leaving him to wonder if he’d annoyed her.
But that was preposterous. She was merely keeping their relationship to what they’d agreed upon—him helping her to make the money she needed to retire to the country with her grandmother.
He suddenly realized London was going to be rather dim without her in it.
Chapter Nine
As Lucy left her house that night, she wondered if she shouldn’t have heeded Dartford’s suggestion. Despite applying generous amounts of cream to the area, her skin still felt a bit raw.
No, it was good they were going tonight. Grandmama had informed her that they would attend a dinner party tomorrow evening. Lucy hoped the redness on her face would fade by then.
