He waved a dismissive hand. 'Can't believe a word she says, as she obviously hears these tales from Austin, who of course would repeat them in a wholly fictitious manner in order to show himself in the best light.'
'I see. So you didn't try to scare off Caroline's governess by rigging a bucket of water and barrel of flour over her bedchamber door?'
'Well, yes, but-'
'And you didn't dare your brothers to shuck their clothing and swim in the lake?'
'Banbury tale,' she decreed. 'I suspect your poor mother has a permanent wrinkle etched on her forehead from all the brow-raising you induced.'
'To match the one you gave your mother, I'm sure.'
They simply stood there, smiling at each other for the space of several heartbeats, and Robert could almost feel something pass between them. A sense of kinship and understanding, yet something more… an intimate awareness that sent a fissure of heat through him.
'I'll acknowledge that Lady Gaddlestone's saying is apt,' he said. 'As were other words I recall her saying.'
'Indeed? What were those?'
'She said you need laughter. And that you're far too serious by half.' He walked slowly toward her, drawn like a moth to flame, stopping when only two feet separated them. All vestiges of amusement faded from her eyes, replaced by the guarded, wary expression normally there. The urge to reach out and glide his fingers over her silky cheek nearly overwhelmed him, as did the desire to see her laugh again.
The happy, smiling woman she once was clearly still dwelled within her. A mere glimpse of her had utterly captivated him. And by damn, he wanted to see her again.
But it was obvious from her expression that she'd once again retreated behind the walls she'd erected around herself. His heart protested, swelling in sympathy for her.
'I know all too well what it is like to have your laughter stolen, and a heavy weight upon your heart,' he said softly, unable to stop the words.
Something that looked like anger flashed in her eyes, but it disappeared before he could be certain. 'You don't understand-'
'I do.' Reaching out, he gently squeezed her hand. Nate's death would haunt him for the rest of his life. The only difference between his sorrow and hers was that she wore her sadness and loneliness on her sleeve-literally with her mourning clothes-whereas he'd learned to hide his inner sadness from the world.
Damn it, she was young. And lovely. And had suffered the same sort of deep, personal loss as he. She deserved some fun. And by damn, he was going to provide it.
He pulled her toward the door. 'Come. It's far too lovely a day to remain indoors. Let us ride through the park. There's something I want to show you… Something you'd enjoy.'
She hesitated and he tugged gently on her hand. 'Please. It is one of my nieces' and nephew's favorite things to do when they're in town. One of Elizabeth 's as well. She'd never forgive me if I neglected to show you.'
'What is it?'
'That would spoil the surprise.' He smiled at her. 'Trust me.'
The expression that passed over her face made him wonder if he'd mistakenly suggested they chop the furniture to pieces with an axe. Her features cleared, but then she studied him for so long he was prompted to tease, 'I promise not to try to extract national secrets from you, Mrs. Brown. I’ve suggested a ride in the park, not high treason.'
A blush stained her cheeks. 'Of course. I’m sorry. It's just that for a moment, you very much reminded me of… my husband.'
She'd said as much to him once before. Compassion for her filled him, along with pride at the compliment she'd bestowed. To be compared to a man she clearly adored was an honor, and one that filled him with warmth, and something else he couldn't name.
'Thank you. And now, let us be off.'
Geoffrey Hadmore sat in the plush leather wing chair at White's, nursing his third brandy. His reflection in the mirror across the richly paneled room indicated an outward calm he was far from feeling. Pain thumped behind his eyes and rage seethed just beneath the surface, churning in his gut.
He rolled the crystal snifter between his palms, staring into the brandy's gently undulating amber depths. A plan took shape in his mind, and he slowly nodded to himself. Yes, if he didn't hear from the bastard by the end of the day, he'd simply take matters into his own hands.
Lester Redfern watched Mrs. Brown and a gentleman settle themselves in a fancy black lacquer carriage led by a handsome set of matched grays. They entered the park, then disappeared from his view. About bloody time she'd gone out.
He patted his jacket. Pistol and knife were in place. His mouth flattened with grim determination. Pulling his hat low over his brow, he made his way toward the town house.
Chapter 7
Allie sat on a curved stone bench in Hyde Park under the shade of a massive willow and drew in a deep breath that did little to calm her.
She should not have come here.
Oh, yes, the weather was indeed lovely. A warm, summer breeze ruffled her hair, and ribbons of late afternoon sunshine filtered down through the leaves, casting striped shadows upon the ground. In the distance she could see handsome horses and carriages moving slowly around the park, and fashionably attired ladies and gentlemen strolling along the cobbled paths.
Less than thirty feet away stood the elegant black carriage that had brought them here. The coachman tended to the gray mares, offering them each a carrot he pulled from his pocket. While she couldn't deny she'd enjoyed the ride, the fresh air, and the sunshine, neither could she deny that Lord Robert's presence unsettled her in a way that was becoming more and more disturbing. Despite her best efforts to stop it, he was awakening feelings in her she'd thought she'd buried long ago. Spending more time in his increasingly pleasurable company was a very poor idea. Yet she'd been unable to resist his invitation for a ride in the park.
Holding up her gloved hand to shield her eyes from a swatch of sunlight, she observed a footman near the carriage hand Lord Robert what appeared to be a pouch. Lord Robert then walked toward her, pouch in hand, crooked grin curving his lips.
She tried to force her gaze away, but could not. He moved with lithe grace, his long, powerful boot-clad legs eating up the distance between them. An involuntary hum of pure feminine appreciation tickled her throat. Heavens above, he was truly heartstoppingly attractive. Dozens of female hearts no doubt littered his doorstep. His tailored clothing fit him to perfection, accentuating his muscular thighs and the broad expanse of his shoulders… shoulders that she vividly recalled the warmth and strength of.
Her fingers clenched in her lap, and she firmly pushed the disturbing image away. She hated that she was so intensely
