Love Between the Lines (12 page)

“
That’s why Petersly will be introducing you. Not me.”

“
But people know I came over with you. It will be bad enough that the story is in your paper, but this makes you even more directly responsible for it.”

He shrugged.
“We’ll cross bridges when we come to them.”

“
Did I make it clear that when I did that in New York, when I wrote about people my family knew, I lost the good regard of my family and friends?” She looked down at her hands. It occurred to her that clinging remnants of guilt could be the reason she thought she’d seen Mr. Harrington on the street.

“
I’m a publisher. I can’t escape censure or censors for that matter.”

“
I don’t object to the articles—it’s the way you’ll have me gather the material. You’d be deceiving them by using me as a spy. They might feel betrayed.”

“
Brinker said something much like that, but I’ll wager it’ll sell papers. Just write the damn things, would you? Ah, welcome back, Petersly.”

The earl nodded and sank into the wing-backed chair.
“Our Miss Tildon—Drury is balking? So soon after you hired her.”

Sir Gideon
wrinkled his nose. “She is afraid of public opinion.”

Trudy sighed.
“Of course I’m not.”

Lord Petersly looked amused so
she tried to explain. “It’s just that…well. I learned from my experiences in New York, sir, and I can’t imagine it’s so very different here. Sir Gideon wants me to turn over rocks. Where you find money and power, you sometimes find corruption and utter indifference to anyone lower on the social orders. I’ll be looking for that. And these are your friends, so…” She glanced over at Petersly. “Why are you laughing, sir?”

“
Tsk, tsk.” Petersly waved a finger at her. “You must address me as Your Grace. Not sir.”

“
All right, though I don’t know why you want me to bother to call you anything. We’re not in company at the moment.”

His foxlik
e smile stretched broader. The man had some sort of secret or other.

One of Brinker
’s lessons returned to her, and she gave a small crow of triumph. “No, wait. That’s wrong. You’re an earl, not a duke. I’d address you as my lord.”

Petersly
clapped his hands. “Very good. You’re too earnest about truth and justice, but you’ll do.”

She blushed and was even angrier at herself than usual. The man was apparently a fribble. A drone. And she was pleased at his
acclamation. At least she didn’t tremble and feel slightly seasick near him. Every time she got too close to Sir Gideon, the center of her body seemed to wind tight, making it difficult to breathe or move without awkwardness.

She gave up trying to argue with
the two gentlemen. Petersly didn’t take her seriously. Sir Gideon ignored her qualms—and the harm he might encounter had nothing to do with her. She’d burned her high-society bridges years ago, back in New York. The people he wanted her to spy upon were his friends, not hers.

“
She’ll need better clothes,” Petersly said.

“
I know that,” her employer snapped.

The butler came into the room.
“A large gentleman with no card to present is without, sir. He’s apparently an American, looking for Miss Tildon.”

All three men turned to
look at her.

“
Oyster, of course,” she said. “He must have followed us. He won’t like the fact that I didn’t wait for him. Now that we’re here, I’m his only employment. For the time being.”

“
Oyster.” Sir Gideon groaned. “I should find something for the man to do.”

“
Good idea. I believe he’s got a strong work ethic. He’s convinced he’s here to protect me. But so far I haven’t made any enemies and I don’t think the haute ton is going to try to drag me into a dark alley. I expect,” she said dreamily, “they will hire someone else to do that for them.”

Sir Gideon
scowled at her.

“
You have an oyster at your door? Better and better.” Lord Petersly rubbed his hands together.

Oyster came in, his cloth hat in his hands. He hadn
’t scraped his boots properly and left a trail of footprints.

“
Sirs,” he grunted. “Miss Lizzy. You shoulda said something.”

“
You’re right, but I do think I can protect myself until I go on more dangerous assignments.”

“
Then why bring me? I hear tell you’re not doing a bad beat.” He looked around the room. “No danger here I can see. These two won’t do nothing.”

“
And she’s apparently got a good hitting arm,” Lord Petersly murmured. She expected only she was supposed to hear and become flustered that he knew the truth of her employer’s attack in front of his house, but Oyster was listening.

“
Not bad. She felled at least one guy back home,” Oyster said, and she couldn’t help feeling touched by the note of pride in his voice.

“
Even if I was safe, I should have told you where we were going, Oyster. I’m sorry.”

The earl cleared his throat in a very Mr. Brinker manner
, and she suddenly realized her gaffe. “Oh. Right. Oyster, may I present the Earl of Petersly. Oh, rats. I did that backwards. I should have introduced Oyster to you, my lord.” She brightened. “On the other hand, if we pretend Oyster is female, it’s just fine, right? Always introduce to the female even if she is of lower class.”

Petersly
laughed. “I’m enchanted to meet you, charming Miss Oyster.”

“
See here,” Oyster protested. “You looking for a fight?”

Lizzy wished she
’d kept her mouth shut. Oyster was very touchy on some subjects. She was trying to think of a way to defuse the situation when Sir Gideon interrupted. “The earl is being an arse, Oyster. It’s best to ignore him. Don’t waste your time with him.”

“
Right, sir.” Oyster usually had a problem with authority figures and his employers other than Lizzy, but he’d taken to Sir Gideon for some reason—perhaps the regular pay packet helped, though he didn’t seem the sort to be swayed by money.

H
e scratched his head and sideburn and gave a long sniff—and Lizzy knew the phlegmatic Oyster was still upset. Then he spoke again. “But, Miss Lizzy, no matter what the assignment, you don’t go wandering around without a warning to me, see?”

“
Yes. I’m sorry you felt like you had to run after us.”

Satisfied, Oyster headed toward the door.
“S’all right. I’ll go wait outside, then.”

“
No, wait,” Lord Petersly called after him. “My most excellent creature, I have questions for you. You must stop.” Oyster only waved a hand over his shoulder, a flapping good-bye or perhaps a run-along gesture, and left them.

“
Dear heavens. He’s amazing.” Lord Petersly spoke after a moment. “What is his full name?”

“
I don’t know,” Lizzy said.

“
Phillip Canin,” Sir Gideon said. “I had to find out before we crossed the Atlantic.”

Lizzy pushed forward
in her chair to examine Sir Gideon, who gazed back enquiringly, no gleam of amusement. He wasn’t lying.

“
Phillip,” she said and tried it again. “Phillip. Oh my. I’ve known him five years and didn’t know. I used to ask him now and then about his name, and he played deaf. I had no idea he’d ever volunteer the fact.”

“
Why didn’t you use your skills as a reporter to find out?”

She shook her head.
“It seemed disrespectful to go behind his back. I wonder why he told you.”

“
He truly wished to accompany you.” He spoke with a horrid suggestive tone.

“
He wanted to travel,” she said. “I expect he’d never been out of the city before.”

Lord Peter
sly still smirked, and Lizzy decided she really didn’t trust him. He seemed to regard all of creation and society as his playground—if he had any proper feeling he ought to have protested at the charade they planned to play, duping his friends.

She particularly didn
’t like his amused contempt for Oyster. Good. This internal disapproval would make it far easier for her to cope with the effect of his handsome face and that easy air of superiority.

She rather wished
Sir Gideon would consistently act like a conceited ass so she wouldn’t feel as self-conscious around him. He only occasionally behaved like an idiot. It would be pleasant to discount him and perhaps he’d lose some of the power he seemed to wield over her. He was her employer, all the more reason to wish she didn’t feel giddy when he came near her. And when he smiled as he did too easily—

“
What do you think, Miss Drury? I hardly think we need attend every event designed to launch the season’s crops,” Lord Petersly was saying.

Lizzy
forced her attention back to the conversation. She’d been contemplating the way Sir Gideon’s smile created appealing crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

“
I prefer to attend small events,” she said. “And I’d like to have a list of the other attendees beforehand if possible.”

“
Why is that?”

“
For research. If I’m going to talk to, say, a minister of finance, I’d be able to ask the right questions.”

Sir Gideon
’s smile vanished. “You’re not going to profile politicians.”

She ignored his protest.
“What is our next step?”

“
Your new wardrobe,” Sir Gideon said, and Lord Petersly nodded.

Lizzy held up her hand.
“That’s absurd. I don’t have the means or—”

“
The paper will bear the expense.” Sir Gideon spoke in that brooking-no-nonsense voice that cowed her at the same time it made her wish to stick out her tongue at him.

“
If you want to drop your paper’s profits into such nonsense, feel free,” she said airily.

“
That’s correct. It is my business. Shall we go?”

Lord Peter
sly got to his feet and announced he wanted to go help pick out her gowns.

“
No!” Lizzy and Sir Gideon spoke simultaneously.

“
We don’t need to have you seen with her out in public yet.” Sir Gideon offered his arm to Lizzy. “We should be on our way. Come, Petersly. Sorry to throw you out but I’m busy today.”

“
Quite understandable.”

Lizzy
gaped at Sir Gideon. “I’ll go shopping alone. I shouldn’t be seen with you either. And didn’t you just say you’re too busy?”

T
hey walked to the door, arguing, before Lizzy realized they hadn’t taken a proper farewell. She turned and curtsied. “Good-bye, Lord Petersly. I’m pleased to have met you.”

“
Nicely done,” the earl said returning her curtsey with a bow. He walked toward her, wearing that small, rather menacing smile. “But you forgot to offer your hand.”

“
Another time.” Sir Gideon said as he pushed her out the door in front of him. “You have your own carriage, Petersly? Good. Fine.”

He grabbed Lizzy
’s arm. “I’ll escort you to Madame Levour’s shop.”

She shook her head.
“That’s a terrible idea.” They squabbled on their way out to the carriage where Oyster waited, sitting with the driver on the box.

For
once she wouldn’t allow Sir Gideon’s overbearing manner to dissuade her. To her surprise, he acquiesced.

He handed her
into the carriage, then stepped back. “Very well, I shan’t accompany you if you swear not to purchase anything in the shade of pea-soup green you seem to prefer.”

She began to protest
, “I think it’s more of a yellowish-green. I don’t—”

He interrupted,
“I have business to attend to and will meet you back at Langham House. Oyster need not accompany you. It will take some time and I will find an errand or two for him to run.” He pulled out a piece of folded paper and handed it to her. “This is what you’ll need. The coachman knows the address of the millinery shop. Do not, I beg you, try to skip any of these items. I made the list with the help of an expert.”

“
Whom did you consult?”

He didn
’t appear to hear her or perhaps pretended he didn’t. She wondered if the expert he’d used for the list was his mistress. Did he have one? So many men did. Tooley had told her those ladies were often an excellent source of information, but so far she hadn’t encountered one.

As the carriage lurched into motion
, she twisted around to stare out the back window. Sir Gideon strode back into his house—master of his kingdom. The earl might be of higher social stature, but even he didn’t have that air of efficient control Sir Gideon had worn since they’d landed on this side of the ocean.