Page 6 of One Night of Scandal
“I didn’t say that, but yes, in part.”
“You’re no better than those ninnyhammers at theLadies’ Gazette.”
He blinked at her. “Don’t you write for theLadies’ Gazette?”
“As S. D. Tavistock. They had no interest in hiringViolato write for them.” She threw her hands up and lifted her voice in mock horror. “Heaven forfend a woman actually write for a woman’s magazine!”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t investigate but that it will be difficult for you.” When she opened her mouth, he added, “Yes, as a woman.”
Her jaw clenched. “You are, sadly, correct. It will be difficult, which is why you deterring me from Brooks’s tonight was so very frustrating.”
“I stand by what I did.”
“That’s not surprising. You’re a typical man who thinks he can order a woman about. However, I’m not your family, and I’m certainly not your wife.”
“No, thank goodness. I’ve no need of one of those.”
“I’ve even less need of a husband.” She turned her head toward the window as they approached Berkeley Square.
He softened his tone. “It was never my intent to order you about. I was trying to prevent a catastrophe.”
“I am trying to appreciate your concern.”
Jack heard the disappointment in her voice and considered her perspective, how bloody hard it must be to be told you can’t do things because you’re a woman. “How about I help you with your investigation?”
She glanced over at him from the side of her eye. “Why?”
“Because I could ensure you’re safe and help you gain access to…places.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to take her to Brooks’s, even as his guest, but perhaps he’d consider it.
She gave him an arch look. “Or maybe you want to find out who this MP is.”
Definitely. “I must admit to being curious. However, you should consider it’s probably not even true.”
The coach pulled into Berkeley Square and stopped near the curb. She reached for the door at the same moment Jack did. His hand covered hers, and they both pulled back as if the door handle had been on fire.
Their gazes connected for a brief moment, and Jack felt the same imagined heat as the not-blistering door handle. Except he was afraid the heat had been generated by them, close together in this small hack. “Where is your house?” he asked, staring out the window to avoid looking at her, as if doing so would somehow intensify whatever had sparked between them.
“In the middle on this side. I didn’t give the number because I don’t like to get out in front. I go in through the mews so I can change before I go inside.”
“The dowager is not aware of your masquerade?” Jack had met her grandmother, the formidable Dowager Duchess of Eastleigh, on a few occasions.
“Absolutely not, and she never will.”
The door to the hack opened, and the driver stood outside.
Lady Viola jumped down. Jack followed her and paid the driver before she could.
She pursed her lips at Jack as the driver climbed back onto the hack. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“I don’t need to walk you home either, but I’m going to. On second thought, I do need to walk you home.”
The hack pulled away, and she stood beneath the street lantern with a perturbed expression. “I’ve done so countless times without your supervision.”
“Obviously, but if this is the one night you encountered difficulty and I’d abandoned you, I’d never forgive myself. Neither would Eastleigh.”
“Val will not know we were together, not unless you tell him.” She sent him a wary look. “You said you weren’t going to.”
“I won’t.” Taking a deep breath and slowly expelling it, he summoned a placid smile. “Let us have a truce. I should very much like to help you determine whether an MP has aided the radicals in some way. May I do that?”
