The Gentleman Who Loved Me (Heart of Enquiry Book 6)(39)

“I won’t lie to you,” he said.

Her gaze dropped to her lap, her knotted fingers. “What do you know about the man Kitty Barnes sold me to?”

His gut clenched. “Not much. Kitty and I had parted ways before then.”

“Did you know what she planned to do with me?” Primrose raised eyes bright with anguish.

The years ripped away, and guilt bled like a fresh wound.

“I knew that she could no longer afford to keep you. She said that she meant to place you with rich folk who could take care of you. I tried to stop her,” he said gruffly, “but I didn’t have the means, the money or the power. You were her ward, not mine. In the end, I… left.”

Self-disgust burned like acid in his chest. At least Primrose now knew the truth of his cowardice. He waited for her condemnation.

“I hate Kitty Barnes. She’s a callous, calculating witch.” Primrose’s voice shook not with fear but rage. “Wherever she is, I hope she suffers the way she made me suffer.”

It crossed his mind to tell her… and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He reasoned to himself that it didn’t matter; true, whatever he’d had with Kitty had lasted far too long—but it was over and done with. It had no bearing on what was happening now between him and Primrose.

“You confused me,” she said suddenly. “When you showed up out of nowhere at Aunt Helena’s masquerade and started telling me what to do. Without even telling me who you were.”

“My approach to you was wrong from the start,” he admitted. “I kept my identity a secret because you shouldn’t know a man like me. In truth, I should have just continued handling matters from afar—”

“Hold up.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “What do you mean handling matters from afar?”

Right. He slanted her a glance, wondering how badly she was going to take this.

“For some months now,” he said, testing the waters, “I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

“Define keeping an eye.”

“When gossip about you and those men began to circulate, I squelched them,” he said bluntly. “I couldn’t stop the talk entirely, but I made sure the bastards in question kept their mouths shut.”

Her jaw slackened. “How did you do that?”

“I have access to certain information about them. Between the various businesses I own, I also hold the vowels of half the men in London. It was easy enough to gain their compliance.”

“You blackmailed them?” She stared at him. “For me?”

“I used what leverage I had to shut up a bunch of lying braggarts,” he said flatly. “They dallied with you, not vice versa. If anyone deserves condemnation, it’s them. The buggers are lucky I didn’t call them out, but to do so would have only caused more scandal for you.”

“That is what Mama said when Papa wanted to challenge them,” she murmured. “She said it was better to let the business blow over. And it might have, if it hadn’t been for that poem…” She froze, and he saw the instant that realization struck. “Oh my goodness—The Prattler. Did you blackmail the owner too?”

“No, I paid him off.” Andrew shrugged. “He was happy to retire on the sum.”

Her eyes were as round as saucers. “Is there anything else that you’ve done on my behalf?”

Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.

“Odette reports to me. That is how I found out about your rendezvous with Daltry in the Pantheon and your elopement.” He paused. “And that’s it, I swear.”

Primrose lowered her gaze to her lap, unusually quiet. What was she thinking? How was she taking the news of his interventions? To a sheltered miss, his actions likely seemed ruthless. He didn’t give a damn: no one was going to bully or hurt her while he had the power to stop it.

“I did what had to be done,” he said. “I have no regrets.”

Her eyes lifted, and the shimmering gratitude in them stole his breath.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He gave a wordless nod.

“Do you know,” she said after a heartbeat, “it wasn’t your identity that confused me the most but how I felt about you. You were a stranger, and yet you made me feel safe. Protected. How could I trust someone I didn’t even know?” Her eyes searched his. “Now I understand. You’ve always protected me, haven’t you?”

“I’ve tried. Your happiness, Primrose,”—his voice roughened—“it matters to me.”

Her shoulders straightened, and her chin jerked as if she’d come to some inner decision. “If that’s the case… if I asked you to help me with a matter, would you do it?”

Yes. Anything. Name it, and it’s done.

He’d lived long enough, however, to know the folly of his heart’s reply.

“It depends,” he said, “on what the matter is.”

“Could you… that is would you… be as kind as to…”

“Yes?”

She drew in a breath. “Would you please relieve me of my virginity?”





Chapter Sixteen


She couldn’t believe that she’d said the words aloud.