A Rational Proposal (Furze House Irregulars Book 1)(47)
“That was Sir Philip Munro,” said Julia. “Did you see the cut of his coat? And the fit and the material? Quite superb. He must fence, do you not think?”
“Undoubtedly,” murmured Verity, still feeling the iron grip on her arms. It was easy to see why he excelled as a thief-taker. Had he thought they were thieves, perhaps? One to distract, the other to lift the contents of his pockets? She remembered the way Charles’s expression had flattened when he saw Sir Philip at the exhibition. Silently she agreed with him. She did not like the gentleman either.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Charles came to Grosvenor Street that afternoon in response to Verity’s note, fully prepared to be extremely cross with her if the message she had been entrusted with could have been confided to paper.
“At last,” she said, smiling up at him. “I began to think I would never see you again.”
She was shameless. Two days away from her and he was as undone as ever. He might as well have spared himself the pain of imagining where she was and who she was with.
“I believe I mentioned that I work for a living?” he said, striving for an elder-brotherly tone.
She patted the seat next to her. “So you did, on which head you must make a note that I have dutifully accompanied my mother and your senior partner on an inspection of what she hopes will be her new abode, and enquired most diligently into the state of the attics and the drains. Your sister and I have also made a thorough investigation of a charitable endeavour that aims to relieve ladies in distress by lifting them out of poverty.”
“House hunting and shopping. I see. Now tell me this mysterious message that has come your way.”
“It was given to me by Mr Grimes the hackney driver, and it comes from Molly Turner. It is to advise you to talk to Susan Norris in the Bridewell with all dispatch. Oh, and if you are asked, the information did not come from Molly.”
“And why would your canny friend think this might be to my advantage?”
“I do not know. May I come with you, Charles? Mr Grimes said ladies do sometimes go there for charitable purposes. If nothing else, it will convince my Harrington relations of my serious intent.”
“Rather more so than the Soho Bazaar,” said Charles. “I cannot like it, Verity. Bridewell is a house of correction. Many of the inmates have been brought there by desperate straits.”
“Were you listening to nothing I said two nights ago? If I have not seen these straits for myself, how can I judge how to help?”
He looked at her determined expression with reluctant admiration. “You do not consider me an able reporter?”
Before he could move away, she touched his cheek gently. “No, for you are foolish and chivalrous and would try to protect my sensibilities.”
He covered her hand and returned it to her lap. “Very well, but you will behave please.”
“I shall be a model of decorum.”
“That I wish I may live to see,” replied Charles. “I will call for you in the morning.”
“Will you not stay to dine today?”
“I have work to do.” He hesitated. “And besides, I dare not.”
“But Mama will be returning soon, and Julia will recover from her sulks and be down shortly. She is cross with me for not lending her the money to buy a reticule.”
“That I do not believe.”
“It would have been wasteful, Charles. She has two blue reticules already.”
“Oh, I believe that. What I cannot credit is that she is cross with you. Julia is never cross. Does she imagine she is being discreet?”
“Your sister sees most things, Charles, even if she is not always sound in her conclusions.”
“I am your attorney, Verity. Do stop making things difficult.”
“Papa used to say his attorney was worth more than he was.”
“After one has been practising two-score years, perhaps. I understand Mr Tweedie is far from impecunious. I, however, do not command anything like his salary. I cannot support anyone bar myself.”
“And your valet and his mother and his simpleton sister. I am not asking you to support me.”
“I will not be accused of marrying for money either.”
For answer, Verity lifted her face and kissed him, feather-light on the lips. Her action set off a storm of emotions in his chest. His arms came around her of their own volition before he forced them back to his sides.
“I asked you to behave,” he managed in a hoarse voice.
“That was in thanks for tomorrow. Please do not pretend, Charles. Do you not wish to kiss me?”
“I wish it very much, which is why I am leaving now while I can yet walk.” But still he didn’t move, knowing exactly how she would feel in his arms, how she would taste, how she would gasp and give herself to him willingly, confident in his ability to teach her. Walk away, he told himself. Stand up and walk away.
She kissed him again, less feather light this time, and rose. “You are being perfectly ridiculous,” she said, a shake in her voice, and left the room.
“You can stop being discreet,” said Verity, sinking dispiritedly on to the window seat in her friend’s room. “You might just as well have been sitting in the salon with us.” Although if Julia had been, Verity might not have found the courage to kiss Charles like that. A furious blush came to her cheeks to even think of herself being that forward. Oh, but it had been lovely. And that one moment, when he nearly responded... Verity had almost forgotten to breathe.