A Study in Silks

Keating looked down to hide his smile. He had won. “Very well, my lady.”

“My lady,” said a male voice. Whomever it was sounded utterly irritated. “You are in no position to bargain.”

Imogen touched Bucky’s arm, feeling the fine cloth of his sleeve through her lace gloves. “My lady?” she whispered.

He put a hand over hers, and leaned close to her ear. His breath was warm. “Be careful they don’t hear us before they need to.”

Worry clutched at Imogen’s chest, and she hugged her arms across her middle. They were in the awkward position of overhearing something they shouldn’t, but Bucky was right. There was trouble. They couldn’t walk away, in case there was real danger—but no one wanted to raise the alarm until was absolutely necessary. A mistake could be mortifying for everyone involved.

Bucky began prowling the room, picking up a broom, and then setting it down in favor of a sturdier carpet beater. He weighed it in one hand, clearly testing its weapons potential. Bucky might not have had Captain Smythe’s uniform, but he was a practical thinker who wasn’t wasting any time. But what if there is a gun?

“I’ve paid everything I can,” the woman said, her voice harsh.

“Barristers are expensive, and Sir Philip Amory is the top man in London. I engaged him as you asked, but I don’t think more money is the answer even if you had it to give. The public has turned against her.”

“Nellie is my cousin. I can’t give up.”

Bucky turned to look at Imogen, astonishment plain on his face. He mouthed the words, “Nellie Reynolds?”

Imogen felt her own eyes widen as the conversation came to a tense silence. She barely dared to breathe. Bucky made a questioning gesture. Imogen shrugged in reply.

“And I appreciate your efforts, Mr. Keating. You have been a friend.”

Keating! Imogen’s breath hitched—but she suddenly understood why the duchess had sponsored Evelina. If Keating was helping the duchess save her cousin, she would do anything he asked.

The duchess’s voice rose in pitch. “Are you saying that if Society cuts me for trying to save my cousin from the stake, you will turn off my heat and light?”

“You come quickly to the point, my lady. But rest assured that I would only do so as a last resort. I know your son has a tendre for my daughter, Alice. She is a good girl, and will wed where I ask.”

The threat was so bold, Imogen’s jaw grew slack.

“How comforting,” the duchess’s tone was dry. “I would appreciate it if you left me now, Mr. Keating.”

“Very well, my lady.”

Imogen’s throat closed with panic. What if he left through the back way and found her and Bucky within earshot?

Bucky silently set down the carpet beater and was at Imogen’s side in a heartbeat. “Come on!” he whispered, and took her hand. He pulled open the door to the corridor and dragged her into the passage, barely closing it again before Imogen heard the interior door open.

It was just a piece of luck that the corridor was empty at that exact moment. No one saw Imogen emerge from a darkened room, towed by a young man who ran with a fast set. It would have been enough to destroy her reputation before the Season even began.

But their good fortune ran out before they made it more than a few more steps. Jasper Keating swept out of the room, as casual as if the house were his. Maybe that’s what he has in mind. Imogen had already seen the duchess’s son dancing with the Gold King’s daughter, Alice.

But she barely had time for that thought to form before Bucky roughly backed her into the wall, shielding her from view with his body as if he were moving in for a kiss. Imogen’s breath left her in a whoosh, and when she dragged it back in, all she could smell was him. It was a male smell—tobacco and whisky, soap and wool. Intoxicated, Imogen allowed desire to overcome her fright for just that moment. Keating moved by, paying no attention to them.

But even as the Gold King disappeared down the corridor, Bucky didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned forward, his deep brown eyes searching her features as if she were a precious artwork. She could feel his breath on her face, hot and quick, and felt her own grow shallow with excitement. Slowly, he raised one gloved hand and touched her cheek with his fingertips, the gesture almost reverent. Imogen was mesmerized, her entire soul lost somewhere in the tiny space of air between them.

When he spoke, the words were rough and low. “Whatever you do, don’t say a word about this. Pretend you never heard it at all.”

The statement brought her back to herself, breaking the spell of his touch. “But … shouldn’t we do something?” She wasn’t sure what, but the Duchess of Westlake was trying to help her cousin, and at considerable risk to herself. That won her points in Imogen’s book.

Bucky shook his head, his brow furrowing with concern. “Not here and now. As you just saw, there is nowhere truly private at these events. You and I will talk about this some other time. Maybe many times—but I don’t want you taking any risks before we’ve thought this through. There are some things that are too dangerous to know.”

He looked into her eyes then, and she could see the urgency in their warm, brown depths. “Promise me,” he said. “And we’ll figure this out together. Don’t run any risks alone.”

“I promise,” she said, but at least part of her mind was entirely on the fact that his face was so close to hers, their breath mingled at every word. Is he going to kiss me? She wasn’t sure she wanted it now, when everything was so grim, but she was growing tired of waiting for him to make a move.

Something in the set of his mouth made her wonder if he was thinking the same thing—whether this was the right moment. She shifted just a little, putting herself just a smidgen closer, stretching her neck just a touch longer.

Then his eyes widened a shade, and the decision was made. He pressed his mouth to hers, hot and hungry. As much as Imogen had anticipated the moment, she gave a tiny start, and then leaned into the moment, tasting him as he tasted her. A fire began low in her belly, rushing to her head with a sudden, heady blaze. She rose up on her toes, not letting anything stop her from the full enjoyment of the moment.

And Bucky was an enthusiastic kisser. In that moment he proved that just like her, he could set aside the darkness in the world to enjoy life for a moment. When they finally broke apart, she nearly had to gasp for air. So this is what they mean by kissing a girl senseless!

“There is one thing I regret,” she murmured. “I would have like to have seen you challenge the most powerful man in the Empire with no more than a carpet beater in your hand. It would have made an enormously heroic picture.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes alight with pleasure. There was a touch of possessiveness in the look that nettled her and delighted her in the same moment. “My dear Miss Roth, if that impresses you, I will be sure to demonstrate what I can do with oranges.”

And then he gave her a smile that made her go wobbly in the knees. The world might be threatening to crumble about her ears, but Imogen felt something more powerful than the gathering storm.

Jasper Keating stopped by to exchange guarded pleasantries with Lady Bancroft. Evelina thanked him again for his support for her presentation. At first, with a distracted air, he looked at her as if he couldn’t quite recall who she was. Then, as he wished them a pleasant evening, he asked after her uncle, seeming to want to know the detective’s whereabouts. Once again, she itched to know what on earth had gone on between the two men.

A few minutes later, Tobias arrived, as late as was permissible without actually being rude to the hostess. He was freshly shaved, his hair still damp from the bath, and impeccably dressed in formal black. He came bearing Evelina a glass of lemonade. Nevertheless, when he smiled it was not his usual wicked expression. He looked troubled.

“What’s wrong?” Evelina asked.