Page 44 of Beyond Scandal and Desire
Gathering her resolve, she marched forward and set the leather box in the center of his desk. “A lady cannot accept such a precious gift from a gentleman with whom she is merely an acquaintance.”
Slowly his deep blue gaze traveled over her, seeming to halt a fraction of a second at each button, each ribbon, each clasp. “The last time you returned a gift to me, you had a solicitor handle the matter.”
She noticed a small leather box on the corner of his desk. Was it the cameo? Did he keep it visible as a reminder that she’d rejected his overture? But if he were bothered by it, surely he wouldn’t have given her a tour or danced with her. “At the time, I didn’t know where to find you.”
He dropped his gaze to the box containing the pearls and comb, then looked at her through lowered lids. “It’s not a gift but simply the return of something that belongs to you.”
“I’m certain you had to pay to obtain it.”
He gave a little shrug as if it were of no consequence. “Purchase it from me, then.”
A hundred pounds alone for the comb. The pearls had probably been valued the same or perhaps more. She was quite certain it wasn’t going to be an even swap, but she did long to have them. “How much?”
“A quid.”
“I’m certain he charged you more. I have a thousand—”
“Have you taken leave of your senses?” he bellowed, the blue of his eyes reminding her of the hottest flames dancing in a fire. “You’re walking about London at night with a thousand pounds on you?”
“No, I traveled in a hansom.”
“And what if some bloke decided to stop that hansom and rob it? Rob you? Take that money off your pretty little person?”
Did he think she was pretty? He was angry with her, and yet she couldn’t seem to be frightened by his belligerence. Rather it warmed her that he seemed to care about her safety, even though she felt she’d taken adequate precautions to ensure it. “Why would someone think I was worth robbing?”
“Because you’re dressed in finery like a lady who might be silly enough to walk around London with a thousand quid stuffed in her—” He waved his hand at her as though he thought she might have stashed it in an unmentionable area.
“My reticule.”
“Well, he’d have not stopped with the taking of it. He’d have given you a thorough search—”
She didn’t care to hear where he might have searched. “As I said, I did not walk. Well, except up your steps, and then there was your man to look out for me.”
The fury seemed to deflate out of him. “There are men around here who would kill for a thousand quid.”
“I suspect there are some who would cheat for it, as well. Did your bricklayer cheat while playing cards with Kipwick?”
“No. My people know I don’t tolerate cheating. I’d have let him go. A man who cheats at cards might cheat elsewhere, including in the work he gives me. Besides, my brothers were watching. The problem, Lady Aslyn, is that your fiancé bends his elbow as much as he holds the cards. Guzzling too much drink hampers a man’s judgment, his ability to calculate the odds of winning.”
She feared drinking wasn’t the only problem Kip had. “Since he lost fair and square then, and you’ve offered to sell the items to me, tell me how much I owe you.”
“I told you. A pound.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He arched a dark brow over one of those beautiful blue eyes. “Are you calling me a liar?”
She angled up her chin. “Yes. I quite believe I am.”
His laughter, deep and masculine, circled around her, sent the calming butterflies back into flight. “No one has ever dared call me a liar—at least not to my face.”
“I just find it very difficult to believe the gent last night would be willing to settle for so little when he obviously knew the pieces were of value.”
“He had no idea of their value. He based their worth on what he could tell about the lady who was wearing them. He knows quality when he sees it.”
“What did he insist you pay in order to hand them over to you?”
“He owes me his livelihood. As a favor, he traded them to me for a quid.”
