Jacquie D'Alessandro (12 page)

She studied her son’s face for several seconds, then she turned toward Andrew. “You
promised
him this…whatever it is?”

“I did.”

“You did not mention this to me earlier.”

“It had not occurred to me to do so as that is the nature of a surprise. Also, I hadn’t anticipated my visit here being quite so short in duration.”

Silence filled the room, and Andrew could almost hear the wheels turning in her mind. Why was she suddenly so anxious to get rid of him? Was there some aspect of her life that she worried he’d discover? Her earlier words,
this man’s capture means that there is no longer a threat of danger to me
bothered him greatly. The fact that he’d detected fear in her eyes more than once since the shooting made her explanation of “danger to my health” ring untrue. Had she lied? If so, why?

There were only two other reasons he could think of that would make her anxious for him leave. If she were interested in forming a relationship with a man—like perhaps one of her many bouquet-sending suitors—Andrew’s presence in her home could put a damper on her plans. But that made little sense since she’d made it plain that she did not wish to form an attachment.

The other reason made his heart pound with hope.
If she vehemently did not want to form an attachment, yet found herself attracted to me…

She’d want him to leave. As soon as possible. Could that be why she’d acted so prickly around him lately—because she was fighting desire?

He shook himself from his reverie and looked at her. She looked very disgruntled—rather the way Andrew imagined a general would if his brilliant military campaign was just outmaneuvered. Hmmm. This was
very
promising.

“How long will this surprise take to complete?” she asked him.

“At least a week,” Andrew said, certain that a halo magically appeared above his head to accompany the angelic expression into which he arranged his features.

“A week!” There was no mistaking her dismay—or the suspicion ripe in her voice.

Spencer instantly brightened. “You can stay that long, Mr. Stanton?”

“Yes,” Andrew said.

She shot him an undecipherable look, then turned toward Spencer, whose eyes were filled with a heartbreaking combination of excitement and hope. There was no mistaking she was torn. Finally, she reached out and ruffled the boy’s dark hair.

“A week,” she agreed.

Spencer’s smile could have lit a darkened room.

“Well, now that that’s been settled,” said Lady Catherine, “I shall depart for my visit with Mrs. Ralston.”

“Is your friend’s home on the way to the village?” Andrew asked.

“As a matter of fact it is. Why?”

“Would you mind if I came along? There are some items I need to purchase and would like to visit the local shops.”

“What do you wish to purchase?”

He made a
tsk
ing sound and waggled his finger at her. “Cannot tell. All part of the surprise.”

“Perhaps we have on hand whatever these supplies are.”

“I’ve already ascertained that you don’t.” He turned to Spencer. “Would you care to join me, Spencer?” he asked casually.

Andrew instantly sensed the tension that filled the silence. He knew Spencer rarely left the security of the grounds, and perhaps it was too soon to encourage this outing to the village, but they’d made such great strides this morning during their first horseback-riding lesson, Andrew hoped to keep their momentum going.

Several more seconds of silence passed, and Andrew could see Spencer was conflicted.

Lady Catherine cleared her throat. “That is very thoughtful Mr. Stanton, however, Spencer doesn’t like to venture—”

“I want to go,” Spencer cut in.

“You do?” There was no mistaking his mother’s amazement.

Spencer nodded vigorously, and Andrew wondered if the lad was trying more to convince his mother or himself of his decision. “I want to help with the surprise.” He lifted his chin. “I’ll be fine, Mum. Mr. Stanton will keep me safe. I want to go. Truly.”

She hesitated for several heartbeats, and Andrew could plainly see her surprised pleasure at Spencer’s words. Indeed, he fancied she blinked back tears. Finally, she smiled at her son. “I’d be delighted to have the company. I’ll have the carriage brought around. You can drop me at Mrs. Ralston’s cottage, then continue on to the village. No need to return for me—I’d enjoy a brisk walk home.”

“Can we use the curricle instead?” Spencer asked.
“That way Mr. Stanton can show me how to handle it.” He turned to Mr. Stanton with a hopeful expression. “You do know how, don’t you?”

Andrew nodded. “Yes, but a curricle only seats two people.”

“We can all squeeze onto the seat,” Spencer insisted. “I do not require much room at all. Besides, it’s only a short ride to Mrs. Ralston’s, and then there’d only be two of us since Mum wishes to walk home.”

Andrew turned to Lady Catherine, who was clearly stunned by this turn of events. Keeping his voice and expression perfectly bland, he said, “I’m amenable to trying Spencer’s plan, if you are, Lady Catherine. If we discover the seat is too crowded, I would be happy to walk beside the vehicle to Mrs. Ralston’s house.”

She looked at him with a combination of worry and hope. “Do you promise not to travel swiftly during this lesson?”

He laid his hand over his heart. “I swear I would never do anything to place Spencer, or you, in any danger.”

Her gaze drifted back to Spencer and she smiled. “Very well. The curricle it is.”

Forty-five minutes later, Spencer, under Mr. Stanton’s patient tutelage, successfully brought the pair of matching bays to a halt in front of Genevieve’s cottage. Catherine’s heart contracted at the utter delight and triumph etched on her son’s face.

“I did it,” he said, his cheeks flushed with victory.

“Yes, you did,” she agreed. “And marvelously well. I’m so proud of you—” Her throat swelled, cutting off her voice, and to mask her emotion, she pulled him to her for a hug. Spencer’s arms wrapped around her, and with her
cheek pressed to his, she looked over his shoulder and met Mr. Stanton’s steady, dark-eyed gaze.

Her heart thumped against her ribs, and the myriad of confusing, conflicting emotions this man inspired assailed her once again. But one rose swiftly to the surface—gratitude. She was deeply grateful to him for giving this joy to Spencer. Blinking back the moisture that ridiculously threatened behind her eyes, she smiled at him.
Thank you,
she mouthed silently.

His lips curved upward in a warm smile that stalled her breath.
You’re welcome
, he mouthed back.

“My goodness, is that Master Spencer at the reins of this fine equipage?”

At the sound of Genevieve’s rich, sultry voice, Catherine yanked her gaze from Mr. Stanton and released her son.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Ralston,” Spencer said, grinning hugely. “Yes, ’tis I. I’ve just learned to drive it.”

Genevieve approached the curricle from the flower-lined path leading to her cottage, her avid gaze taking in the three passengers squashed into the seat. Dressed in a cheery yellow muslin gown decorated with sprigs of embroidered lilacs, she looked like a breath of late-summer sunshine. “Why, I nearly did not recognize you, Master Spencer,” she said, her smile directed at the lad. “You’ve grown into quite the strapping young man since I saw you last.”

There was no missing Spencer’s flush of pleasure at her words. “Thank you, Mrs. Ralston.”

“And whom have you brought to see me today?” she asked with a teasing grin.

“Well, my mum, but you already know her.”

“Yes, Lady Catherine and I are well acquainted.”

“And this is our friend, Mr. Stanton. He traveled all
about Egypt with my uncle Philip. You should ask him about the time his clothes were stolen by knife-wielding brigands.”

Heat rose in Catherine’s cheeks as the thought of a naked Mr. Stanton slammed into her mind. Genevieve’s smiling gaze swept over Mr. Stanton with unabashed interest. “I am curiosity itself.”

Catherine cleared her throat. “Genevieve, allow me to
properly
introduce Mr. Andrew Stanton, my brother’s business partner in his museum venture. Mr. Stanton, my dearest friend, Mrs. Ralston.”

Mr. Stanton unwedged himself from the seat and jumped nimbly down. He offered Genevieve a formal bow and a friendly smile. “A pleasure, Mrs. Ralston.”

“Likewise, Mr. Stanton. Welcome to Little Longstone. Are you enjoying your visit?”

“Very much. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to take pleasure in such fresh air and tranquil, colorful surroundings.” He indicated the profusion of well-tended blooms surrounding them. “Your garden is exceptional.”

Genevieve beamed. “Thank you. It is entirely Catherine’s doing. She resurrected the entire area from the weed-infested, overgrown disaster it was when I purchased the cottage. She won’t hear of me hiring a gardener.”

“A stranger?” Catherine interjected, her voice filled with mock horror. “Tending my darlings? Never!”

“You see?” Genevieve said to Mr. Stanton with an arch grin. “A very headstrong woman.”

“Indeed?” Mr. Stanton said, his face the picture of exaggerated shock. “I hadn’t noticed.”

A delighted laugh trilled from Genevieve. “Will you join us for tea?”

“Thank you, but Spencer and I are on our way to the village.”

“Another day then?”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your visit with Lady Catherine.”

“Nonsense. I simply must hear about these knife-wielding ruffians.”

He laughed. “In that case, I’d be honored to join you another day.” After a brief nod of thanks, he walked to Catherine’s side of the curricle and raised his hand. “May I assist you, Lady Catherine?”

Catherine stared at his hand and swallowed. She did not want to touch him. Her brutally honest inner voice immediately branded her a liar, and she clenched her jaw. Botheration. All right, she
wanted
to touch him. But she greatly feared doing so. Feared her reaction, especially if it was anything like what she’d experienced when he’d walked into her in the corridor…

Oh, stop being ridiculous
, she chided herself. It was merely his hand. Helping her so she didn’t ignominiously tumble to the ground from her perch. Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d actually have to
touch
him, as they both wore gloves. Giving what she hoped passed for a cool, unconcerned smile, she placed her hand in his.

His fingers wrapped around hers in a sure, strong grip, and warmth permeated through her gloves to sizzle up her arm. An accompanying heat blossomed on her cheeks, and she prayed no one would notice. The instant her feet touched the ground she snatched her hand away as if he’d burned her.

“Thank you.” Shielding her eyes against the sunlight dappling through the trees, she smiled up at Spencer. “Enjoy your outing.”

“I will, Mum.”

Mr. Stanton turned, as if to climb back onto the curricle, but instead he leaned toward her. “Don’t worry,” in said in a low voice only she could hear. “I’ll take good care of him.”

He swung himself into the seat, then with a smile and a nod at her and Genevieve, he instructed Spencer to go. Seconds later the curricle was heading off toward the village.

Catherine watched the vehicle until it rounded the corner at the end of the lane and disappeared from view. She then turned toward Genevieve, and said, “I have news.” Pulling her father’s letter from her reticule, she passed the missive to Genevieve.

After reading the letter, Genevieve handed it back and offered a relieved smile. “So there is no need to worry.”

“None. Well, except for the investigator Lord Markingworth and his friends hired, but I cannot see how he could discover our identity.”

“Excellent.” She looked down the lane where the curricle had traveled. “So that was Mr. Stanton,” her friend said, her voice ripe with…something. “He is much different than I’d envisioned based on your description.”

“Indeed? And what had you envisioned?”

Genevieve laughed. “Certainly not that alarmingly attractive man with the devastating smile and soulful eyes. Darling, your description of him in no way did him justice.
I
could sum up that glorious man in two words:
absolutely divine
.”

Something that felt suspiciously like jealousy fluttered through Catherine. “I never said he was
ugly
.”

“No, but neither did you give any hint that he was so”—she blew out a dreamy-sounding sigh—“so
absolutely divine
. Masculine and strong. Did you
see
those lovely dimples when he smiled?”

God, yes.
She’d had a great deal of trouble prying her avid gaze away from them. “I hadn’t particularly noticed, but now that you mention it, yes, I suppose he does have dimples.”

“He seems to have formed a bond with Spencer.”

“Yes. They are working together on some sort of surprise for me.”

“Indeed? What sort of surprise?”

“If I knew, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Catherine said with a smile, mimicking Mr. Stanton’s earlier words to her. “When Mr. Stanton asked Spencer to accompany him to the village, I thought for certain it would turn into an awkward moment. I was stunned when Spencer accepted. I’d ceased asking him to join me several years ago, as I knew he would only refuse to leave the estate grounds.” A sheepish smile pulled at her lips. “If I weren’t so pleased with Spencer’s change of heart, I’d be irked that Mr. Stanton achieved in a mere twenty-four hours something I’ve been unable to accomplish.”

“Obviously the reason behind your son’s unusual decision rests with Mr. Stanton. Your guest’s presence is clearly having a positive effect on Spencer.”

“Yes.” Unfortunately he wasn’t having an effect only on Spencer.

Genevieve’s gaze searched hers, and all traces of amusement vanished. “He cares for you.”

It felt as if the bottom of her stomach landed on her toes. Adopting a light tone, she said, “Of course he does. He’s my son.”

Genevieve regarded her with a sharp-eyed gaze that made Catherine want to squirm. “I was not talking about your son.”