The Wicked Heir (Spare Heirs #3)(137)

However, before the vehicle completely cleared the mews, another figure stepped through the garden gate. The newcomer was similar in height and with a dark, voluminous cloak exactly like the one worn by Lily Chadwick.

Seeing the carriage turn out of sight, the second young lady gave a disappointed huff. “Blast,” she muttered angrily.

Dell tensed.

Portia.

Her hood swung in his direction, though he knew he had made no noise to call her attention. She followed her gaze with a few steps. Then she halted, as though listening. She was still for so long, Dell wondered if she was all right.

“Turner. Are you out here?”

Bloody hell.

Dell stepped forward from his shadowed corner.

Her light gasp at his sudden appearance confirmed she had not seen him.

The woman was far too bold as she approached him in long strides. What if it wasn’t him at all? It was on the tip of his tongue to start lecturing her for her carelessness and lack of concern for her own safety. Not only in approaching a shadowy character on a dark lane, but in traipsing about alone so late in the first place.

He knew before he spoke, however, that a sensible lecture would only end in a roll of her fascinating eyes or a snort of derision before she went along doing exactly what she wanted to do anyway.

It seemed the more effective option would be to show her just how dangerous such behavior could be.

As soon as she came to a stop, he grasped her upper arms in his hands and swung them both back into the dark corner behind the shrubbery. He pushed her up against the stone garden wall, stepping close enough to keep her in place, but still far enough for the fall of her cloak to swirl in the space between them.

She gasped then clutched at the front of his coat as she leaned to the side to scan down the lane. “What is it?” she asked breathlessly. “Are they coming back?”

Dell wanted to shake her. Instead, he growled in anger, “No, you bloody idiot. What in hell are you doing out here? Have you any idea what manner of trouble you could have found yourself in the midst of?”

Hadn’t he decided a lecture would be pointless?

The woman was making him lose his mind.

“What? Do you mean like my sister climbing into a carriage in the middle of the night and riding off to who knows where with who knows whom?” she replied testily, angling her head back so she could look up into his face.

The act caused the hood of her cloak to fall back off her head. The light of the moon favored Dell with a clear view of her winged eyebrows arched over a bewitching gaze, her fine cheekbones, and lush little mouth. Even the woman’s nose contributed to her stunning beauty.

His chest tightened, and desire pulsed through his blood, angling straight to his groin. Dammit, she was doing it again. Making him forget himself.

Luckily, she seemed far too irritated to notice anything untoward in his manner.

“Did I not hire you to keep her safe? What are you doing hiding in the bushes when my sister is out there?” she finished with a jerk of her arm.

Dell released her with a low grunt as he took a step back.

“You hired me to determine if she was still in any danger,” he replied in clipped syllables. “That is what I am doing.”

“But you just let her leave.” The damnable woman was obviously intent upon arguing.

Dell was exasperated enough to oblige her. “I saw no evidence of coercion or threat. Your sister left willingly.”

Her fine features were tense under the moonlight. “But why? It is so unlike her.” She gasped in sudden surprise. “Was it the gentleman who rescued her from the brothel?”

“There is no evidence of that.”

“But you suspect it is,” she added confidently. “Who is he?”

Dell’s sources had provided the gentleman’s name and more, but before he could form a reply, she gave a swift shake of her head. “No, do not answer that. I promised Lily I would not try to discover his identity. Do you know where they were going?”

“I would have discovered their destination if I had been free to follow them.”

Her expression changed then. The tense little scowl slid away. One brow lifted in an impertinent arch, while her lips tilted upward at the corners and her eyes flashed from a narrowed gaze.

He had thought her stunning before. In possession of a unique sort of confidence all her own, when challenged, she proved she could be downright bewitching.

“You are just miffed that I saw through your disguise earlier, aren’t you?”

He could not risk anyone seeing through his camouflage. He hated to admit she was right—that her ability to recognize him annoyed the hell out of him—but he also needed to know for certain what had given him away.

“How did you know it was me?”

Her mouth curved into a wide smile. “It was in the way you looked at me.”

Dell stiffened. Not that he had been looking, but the way he had been looking. That couldn’t be. She couldn’t possibly have detected his attraction to her. “I barely glanced at you.”

She shrugged, and her cloak parted with the movement to reveal a significant portion of her figure still gowned in ice-blue silk. Dell had to drag his attention back to her face.

Damned distraction.

“But that glance was more than enough to detect the irritated sort of glower you like to give me. See! You are doing it right now.” She tilted her head and planted her hands on her hips. “It gives me the distinct impression that you’d like to turn me over your knee.”