A Dash of Scandal(87)

His chest tightened at her offer. “Then allow me.” He put his arm around her and drew her back into the curve of his shoulder. She nestled there as if she had always belonged beside him. He softly placed his cheek upon her hair. “Oh, yes, this is a much better idea. I’m glad I have you to remind me how a gentleman is supposed to behave.”

“There are certain areas where you need to be coached.”

“I’m at your disposal to be taught whatever you wish.”

“That could be a challenge.”

“You are up to the task.”

“Yes, but I very much like it also when you are a rake.”

“I know.”

Chandler liked the way she snuggled down in the seat and fit herself tightly against him as if she wanted the safety of his arms. He liked the way she didn’t hesitate to tell him that she wanted to be held or how she never got truly angry with him when he went beyond the pale. He had no doubt that she was where she belonged—in his arms.

“You proved tonight how brave you are. I was impressed by how you stood up to Lady Heathecoute.”

“It wasn’t so much bravery as determination. I wouldn’t have been so forceful if I had not been certain the viscountess had something under her skirt. But, she would have laughed off my demands had you not agreed with me.”

“You give me too much credit.”

Millicent sighed into the warmth of his coat. “I still find it hard to believe that she turned out to be the Mad Ton Thief. I’ve spent so much time with her since I’ve been in London.”

“It’s really sad that the poor woman felt she had to resort to stealing to supplement their income.”

“Do you believe the viscount was as innocent as he claimed to be?”

“I think so. He was ashen when she pulled the silver teapot out of the pocket she had sewed into the folds of her skirt. And, after all, he kept insisting she show us she had nothing to hide.”

Chandler pressed her to him and kissed the top of her head while the carriage moved along at a brisk pace. He wanted to turn her into his arms and devour her with kisses and caresses, but he knew she must have a pounding headache from the wound, so he remained still.

“I hope she told the authorities the truth and that they find all the things she stole where she said they would be. I know how desperately you want to get the raven back.”

For some reason the raven didn’t seem so important anymore. “I’m sure she wouldn’t have told them she had the things if she didn’t.”

“Imagine, her stealing the jewels, the painting, your golden raven, and then realizing she had no idea how to go about selling them to anyone.”

Chandler gave a short laugh. “It’s our good fortune that she never made it to the moneylenders to find a trader.”

“Yes.”

The carriage stopped, and Chandler opened the door and jumped out. He looked up both sides of the street before he helped Millicent down, then held his cloak over her head so if anyone were around they couldn’t see her. He told the driver to wait at the coach for him so he could take Millicent home later.

Winston opened the door to his town house, and they quickly stepped inside. A light burned in the front parlor so Chandler ushered her into the room and helped her take off her cloak.

“Winston, Miss Blair has been injured.”

The valet stepped forward. “What can I do, sir? Should I get a physician?”

“No,” Chandler and Millicent said in unison, then Chandler added, “I don’t think it’s serious enough for a doctor. Bring me water, some cloths, and ointment.”

“Yes, sir,” Winston said and left immediately to get the items.

“Here, sit on the settee.” Chandler turned up the lamp that burned on a table by the small sofa. He then walked over to the sideboard and poured two glasses of brandy.

He handed her one of the glasses. “Drink this. It will make you feel better.”

“Thank you.” She took the drink and sipped it.

“Are you cold? I can build a fire.”

“No, I’m fine. Really, there was no need for you to bring me here to your home, but I’m glad you did. If only for a few minutes. I must go soon. I would hate for news of this evening to reach Lady Beatrice before I get there.”

He remained standing, looking down at her. “That won’t happen, I’m sure.”

“Here you go, sir,” Winston said, carrying in a silver tray containing a bowl of water, cloths, and a jar.