And no one would question the match. She was the daughter of a baron, granted one who had squandered his entire fortune, but the rest of society needn’t know that. When they returned to London in six months, it would be said that Bash and Isabella came for a nice visit with Isabella’s cousin where a match was made. End of story.
He supposed it did aid their charade if her identity was kept secret on the way to his home. She was right. The veil should stay.
With a shrug, he picked up the satchel and offered his arm. “Now we need to discuss how we’re leaving the house.”
“Are we sneaking through the garden?” she asked. He couldn’t quite tell, but he thought she might have smiled.
He trailed his gaze down her trim figure, noting that she was quite shapely in all the right places.
He gave his head a shake. What she looked like beneath her clothes was of no consequence. “I thought we might. My driver is waiting just down the street.”
She gave a nod. “Once we get outside, I’ll remove the veil just so that I don’t trip.”
He cleared his throat. “You might as well remove it now.”
He saw her hesitate for the briefest second and then she reached up pulling the fabric away from her face.
Chocolate brown hair met his gaze first, thick and shining in the candlelight. Large brown eyes were next, fringed with dark lashes. Her small, straight nose came into view, along with her pink cheeks, and finally rosy, full lips that might make a man ache.
He closed his eyes, his features growing tight. She was lovely. Which under normal circumstances would please a man to no end. His bride was pretty. More than that. She was delicately beautiful in a way that called to him.
But he wasn’t happy. Not at all. He didn’t want a gorgeous bride and certainly not one whose beauty erred on the side of vulnerable. He didn’t want to feel anything for this woman. Because feelings complicated everything.
Chapter Two
Avery attempted not to gasp as the fabric fell away from her face.
Ivinhart stared at her, his face set in a decided frown. It pulled at his eyes and mouth, his features stern in their assessment of her.
Not that his severe expression detracted from his looks. Or perhaps it did, maybe if he were smiling, he’d be even better looking. More charming. But even with his features set in a look of irritation the man was handsome.
She looked away, folding the veil. She ought to place it in the satchel, but he was holding the bag and she didn’t dare move any closer. Something about him set her on edge. She glanced down at the floor, not able to look in his eyes again and took a breath.
Now was not the time to grow distracted.
But she clearly was…terribly so…because she didn’t even notice he’d moved closer until he stood in front of her, his hand reaching for hers.
She jolted, a tingling travelling up her hand as his fingers brushed hers. “I’ll put this away. Shall we?”
She gave a nod and as he offered his elbow, she slipped her fingers into his arm.
And then they were off.
Out the door and down the back stairwell. Through the kitchen and into the garden. Avery hardly noticed, the feel of his biceps under her hand distracting her to no end.
Which was odd. No man had ever affected her like this. She didn’t want to feel anything for anyone. In fact, she’d be much happier if she could live without the company of men for the rest of her life.
Not that she minded her cousins’ husbands. They all seemed like fine men; all kind, caring, and protective of their wives.
But she didn’t want that sort of relationship. Couldn’t risk falling in love for the wrong person and so she’d much prefer to feel nothing with her hand on his arm. She was going to be with this man for…how long?
“When do you think His Grace will come and collect me?”
“Shhh,” was his only response as he looked about the garden.
They tiptoed over to the gate and made their way out onto the drive and then into Lady Aberforth’s garden on the other side.
She didn’t ask again and remained silent as they cut through an alley and entered another street. Silence filled the night air as they picked their way over the cobblestones. Even the sound of their feet hitting the stone seemed to amplify in the night.
Without warning, Ivinhart stopped. He cocked his head and put out a hand to keep her from moving forward.
Her fingers tightened on his arm as she strained her ears. What did he hear?
His fingers brushed her abdomen and her insides jolted with sensation. She gasped in a quick breath before she clamped her lips closed to keep from making any more noise.
“See that carriage,” a rough male voice called. “What’s that buggy doin’ there?”
“Shit,” Ivinhart rumbled.
Avery remained silent as two men crossed in front of the alley where they hid in the shadows.
“Hey,” one of the men called. “What are you doing sitting there?”
“Is that them?” Avery whispered, clutching his arm tighter. By them she meant the men who’d tried to take Emily. The men who’d been loitering about. The men who might wish to hurt her.
And though she’d just been thinking how she didn’t wish to touch Ivinhart, didn’t want a man at all, she was exceedingly glad he was here, and she found herself moving closer. Her shoulder pressed into his, her face turning into his arm.
Without a sound, he loosened his arm from her grasp, and she had a panicked moment where she thought he might leave her side. Her heart pounded in her chest as she reached for him again, but then his arm wrapped about her, pulling her against his side as he guided them both deeper into the shadows.
Her arms slid around his waist
