Page 45 of Tender Blackguard

Yes.

She didn’t need to say it out loud. She knew he could read the truth in her face as she made no effort to hide how it felt to relive those dreams of a future that might never be. And oddly, she could see he understood.

But then his expression darkened once again. “You must immediately cease your investigations and promise you’ll stay far away from Dryden House.”

Lark replied just as firmly, “I’ll cease nothing at all, my lord, until Harriet has been found and safely returned to me.”

He stepped toward her, close enough that she could make out the sparks of silver in his gaze. “You’ve no idea what danger you’re courting.”

She thought of the meticulous notes stashed in the hidden box and his own covert activities. “But you do,” she replied carefully.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to go up against something more powerful than you can imagine. Decades of secrecy and unlimited wealth protect them. You’re more likely to find yourself following your friend than rescuing her.”

“Following her where, my lord? Do you know what happened to her?”

His mouth pressed together in a firm line that only accented the harshly sensual arches and curves. But he did not reply.

“If you know something, my lord, you have to tell me.”

When he still said nothing, she stepped forward and looked into his eyes as she urged, “Please.”

“I know nothing of your friend,” he finally replied.

She couldn’t let it go at that. “But you do know something.”

His eyes flashed as the control he’d been exerting broke for a brief moment. He grasped her upper arms firmly in his hands and lowered his head toward hers to mutter through a clenched jaw, “Let it go, Mrs. Evans.”

“I can’t,” she gasped.

His grip tightened. “You must. For your own safety.”

“Don’t you understand?” she whispered. “I don’t care about my safety. I care only for finding Harriet.”

Something bright flared in his eyes. A light so intense it stole her breath. But then he narrowed his gaze and cleared his throat. As though just realizing how he was holding her, he suddenly released her and took two steps back.

His voice was even but heavy when he spoke again. “You’d best return to your duties, Mrs. Evans.”

Lark stared back at him. A thousand things tripped over her tongue for the right to be spoken. But she said none of them. Something in his manner finally convinced her she wouldn’t get what she wanted from him this day. So, she straightened her spine and forced her features into a staid and neutral expression as she clasped her hands at her waist.

“You’re allowing me to stay on as your housekeeper?”

He’d already turned away from her to reclaim his seat but paused to look over his shoulder at her question. “Have you stolen from me?”

“No, my lord.”

“Do you intend to?”

“No.”

“Then I expect you to do your duties as housekeeper. Within the walls of Warfield House.” His warning was clear, but her relief was greater. Her position here was as vital as ever. Perhaps even more so now. “You may resume such duties by informing Cook that I’ll be taking dinner with my cousins at Northmoor House tonight.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He held her gaze. “No more midnight capers, Mrs. Evans. Vow it.”

She had no trouble lying if it’d keep her near Curzon Street. “I vow it.”

He gave a short nod, and she responded with a curtsy before turning to leave the room. The familiar rustle of his newspaper followed her through the door, as though he truly believed the matter had been settled that easily.

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