Page 12 of The Hellion and the Hero

He had no idea she felt this way.

He had not thought it possible for a woman like her.

And he was thoroughly ashamed of himself.

Lady Arlington’s chest rose and fell in quick breaths as she stared back at him in silence. Then she looked away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that.”

“No,” he said sharply, drawing her startled gaze back to him. “You are right. I should be the one to apologize. I confess, I am used to having very different dealings with the police. It never occurred to me it wasn’t a universal experience.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise at his admission, and a look of appreciation filled her gaze that Henry liked far too much.

He cleared his throat. Time to change the subject. “I spoke to some of your competitors today. I’m sorry to say I haven’t narrowed the field of suspects. They’reallthreatened by you. Mr. DeLacey even called you a hellion.”

The corner of her mouth tilted up. “Good.” She looked quite pleased with herself.

Henry frowned and opened his mouth to point out that wasnotgood, actually, when the carriage came to a stop. Lady Arlington glanced out the window.

“Here we are.”

They were in front of a handsome brick terrace house on a quiet street. “Thisis where you live?” Once again, he was caught entirely by surprise.

She raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you were expecting a more upscale address?”

“Well, yes,” he admitted.

“I left all that behind after…after…” Her voice thickened as she struggled to find the right words. Henry’s hand tightened around the head of his cane. But the thought remained unfinished as her footman opened the door and her placid mask descended once again. “Is there anything else you need from me today, Captain?”

“No. Thank you for your cooperation,” he said flatly. “This has been most enlightening.”

She watched him for another excruciating moment and then moved toward the exit, pausing to look back at him over her shoulder. “Feel free to use my carriage. Jack will take you wherever you wish.” Henry began to protest, but she held up a hand. “Please. It’s the least I can do after forcing you to come to Mayfair this afternoon.” Her eyes slid to his knee, which he had been absently rubbing.

Henry snatched his hand away. He could only nod in response. Then he watched her gracefully ascend the stairs of her home.

After the viscount died.

There had been no need for her to finish the sentence. Henry could well imagine the supreme grief that had driven her from whatever elegant mansion they had once called home.

Though the viscount had a reputation for being severe, he must have treated his wife far differently. For Henry had seen her devastation firsthand in Scotland. It should not be surprising that she had grown to love the man who had been her husband for so long. After all, she was no longer a careless young woman of eighteen. People could change. Lord knew he had.

And yet, there was no mistaking the deep pang that swam in his belly, though he had not felt that particular emotion in many years.

Henry was jealous of a dead man.

Chapter Four

Georgiana softly shut the door to her study and leaned against it, letting out the breath she had been holding as disparate thoughts whirled through her mind. It had been childish to leave her office earlier knowing that Captain Harris intended to return, but she hadneverexpected him to come after her. Georgiana thought she had done a fairly good job of hiding her surprise, even in the face of the captain’s commanding stare.

She pressed her hand to her cheek, recalling the way the heat of his arm had sank through her glove. Walking beside him for those few moments was like a form of time travel. He evensmelledthe same. Like starch and sun-warmed cotton. And how easily she remembered it all—the feeling of safety, of comfort, that had always come over her while in his presence. Because she could be herself around him, as there wasn’t any pressure to play the coquettish debutante or appeal to his vanity. He was only Tobias’s nice, quiet friend whom she enjoyed teasing. Wildly unsuitable, of course. But then how quickly he had become more. How quickly that belonging had turned to a kind of obsession. A madness she hadn’t felt before or since.

A lie.

Georgiana pulled her hand from her cheek and made a fist as she pushed away from the door. No. She wouldnotmoon over this man once again. She stalked over to her desk and sat down, mindlessly shuffling the papers in front of her, including that morning’s newspaper.

The captain was right. They would be lucky if their little display didn’t make its way into the gossip columns. The Reading Room’s maître d’ was known as one of the city’s most prolific sources, which was why Georgiana had always been unfailingly nice to him. In her experience, it had paid dividends. She had briefly thought about slipping him a few coins to ensure his silence, but it would have been fruitless. Dozens of people had seen them together, and Captain Harris striding through the Reading Room midday to escort Lady Arlington away in her carriage was simply too good of a scoop. The gossip columns had been absolutely ravenous for any tidbits about the captain, but the man was too reclusive. And on the rare occasion when he had attended a social event, he had always been alone. That Georgiana had both noted these entries in the first place and could now recall them with no effort was incredibly vexing. The last year and a half had been torturous enough without having Captain Harris’s heroism breathlessly described in every newspaper and endlessly dissected in every drawing room. Georgiana had done an admirable job of ignoring the story at first—quite the feat considering how frequently he was brought up by the people around her—but few beyond her immediate family knew they had shared a very brief courtship before her marriage. And fewer still knew the truth of how it had ended.

But then she had seen him in the flesh at Castle Blackwood, mere moments after learning of her husband’s death. It had been an absolutely horrid callback to years earlier, when she had made the worst mistake of her life. For one brief moment, his dark honey gaze had burned into hers again before he disappeared. When she had finally recovered from her shock, the captain had already left. Over the next few months, a very small, very foolish part of her had hoped that he would reach out in some way. But there was nothing from him among the piles of condolences she received. By the time she had learned of Reggie’s ridiculous scheme, Georgiana had already effectively barred her heart once more—or so she thought.

Perhaps ducking out of their meeting that afternoon hadn’t been an act of childishness after all, but one of self-preservation. A part of her must have known she should not be alone with him, of what it would do to her, and yet she had unknowingly created an even worse scenario. Her awareness of him while walking through Claridge’s was nothing compared to the closed confines of her carriage. She had tried to make as little eye contact as possible, even though the man was like a living magnet. Did he have any idea of the strength of his pull? Of how much it took for her to stay separate from him? How she had pressed her back against the plush seat, fiddled with her dress, her hat, her gloves, anything to keep from reaching out to him?

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