Love Between the Lines (14 page)

Now he lost his befuddled
air and turned into the usual Sir Gideon, sarcastic and sharp. “Miss Drury. It was a kiss, not a ravishment. A stupid move on my part and I promise never to do so again. I was wrong and I apologize. But I think you are overreacting. I didn’t intend to insult you, but even if I had…You are a woman of the world and I suspect you’ve experienced worse.”

“
Yes, of course I have. But not better.”

His eyes widened.

She wished she hadn’t said that—even more than she wished he hadn’t kissed her. “I am not interested in thinking about kisses every time I see you.”

“
You don’t already?”

She shook her head.
“Not so much.”

“
You’re luckier than I. I haven’t been able to think of much else in your presence. A damned nuisance.”

“
Exactly! That’s what I mean. Now I have this to forget.” She touched her mouth with her fingertips. “I will forget, don’t you worry, Sir Gideon, but only because I really want to keep this job.”

It was a very good thing he didn
’t question her resolve, because at the moment she had lost track of why it had been so important to work for this particular man. Proving something to her father had long ago lost its charm.

She
’d thought she’d already managed to impress someone as a real journalist. And there he stood, his lips still damp with that kiss. “And you! I can’t believe that you, who’ve treated me like a real reporter would…would…” She shook her head and echoed his words. “A damned nuisance. Did you truly lure me all this way for seduction?”

“
Of course not.”

“
Then why did you kiss me?”

“
I thought if you had terrible breath or responded like a dead fish, I could stop thinking about it,” he explained.

The surge of anger died away.
“Warn me next time and I’ll chew some garlic.”

He laughed
glumly. “I enjoy garlic.” He didn’t need to say anything else; she could hear it too.
I enjoy kissing you.

This was too much.
“Go find Lady Edith and kiss her.”

His smile vanished at once
along with the light in his eyes. “You’re absolutely right. So I shall, once we have concluded our business here. Once again I can only apologize again for my behavior and…” He paused and blinked. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about, again?”

“
Now I’m even more convinced this plan of yours is a terrible idea. I have yet another reason to add to the list—you and I shall have to spend time in the same circles.” She pressed her lips shut to stop herself from adding
I’ve already learned the best way to avoid desire is to stay far away and stay busy
. He had no need to learn about her pitiful past with Gerry Van Dorn. Except of course there was no real past. Only the pitiful part. Gerry hadn’t had the slightest interest in her beyond some gropes.

“
Now I recall.” He straightened his shoulders and crossed his arms. His poise and self-control were entirely restored. The kiss might never have occurred. “You wanted to shirk the first assignment I gave you. I had heard you were not a prima donna.”

She recoiled as if he
’d actually slapped her. “That’s a low blow. What you want me to do is not investigative reporting. It’s scandalmongering.”

“
Nonsense. I’d envisioned a light satirical series. I know you can be scathing. Do you always create such heavy weather, Miss Drury? A kiss is the end of the world? A light piece on society equals severe treachery? Must everything be so dreadfully significant?”

She nodded.
“Often, yes. Because I care, Sir Gideon. Unlike your friend Lord Petersly or perhaps even you, I don’t always go through life lightly because I care about what I do in this world to make it a better place. And I care about whom I kiss.”

“
Ah,” he said. He backed up and leaned against the edge of his desk. “You’re not like most reporters, you know. They’re a cynical bunch who don’t give a damn.”

“
You don’t know that. Everyone has his own way of giving a, um, damn.”

“
You’re right,” he said softly. He turned away and arranged the pile of papers into a stack. Staring down at the papers, he went on, adopting the brisk businesslike attitude again. “I won’t kiss you again. But I still want you to try to write about society. We’ll compromise. Just a couple of articles. They’ll run in my flagship paper.”

“
All right, I suppose.”

He glanced up at her but only for a second
. He looked bored. “You still sound as if I’m pointing a gun to your head. What is the matter? Are you finished with your list of complaints?”

“
It’s just… Well. All those clothes! The newspaper is buying a fortune’s worth of women’s garments. You must have money you can burn for no reason.”

“
Perhaps I do.”

That shut her up.

“You are welcome to keep a couple of the gowns. In two, three months we will donate the rest to the ladies’ home. That will be worth a few inches or a full spread in the
Ladies’ Home and House
.”

When he talked about work
, she could draw herself back to a professional after all. Good. “That’s a fine plan, sir, to donate the clothes. Two months? That’ll be the end of this assignment? I’ll write about the ladies who get the gowns.”

He nodded.
“Just before the end of the season. We want to have everyone still in London to read and talk about it.”

She groaned.
“Ugh,” she said. “I wonder if Oyster wants to take the next boat back.”

“
Miss Trudy Tildon, I had no idea you were such a faint heart. Is this the woman who allowed herself to be locked away in a prison in pursuit of a story?”

She nodded.
“One and the same. But this is not the sort of —”

“
Don’t try me too far,” he said. “I have too much on my plate at the moment and no more time to hold your hand while you suddenly develop tender sensibilities.” His voice trailed off, and he seemed to focus on her hands in her new gloves.

Holding hands. Skin pressed to skin. She
’d felt his mouth on hers and if he’d kissed her hand again… She imagined his mouth warm on her palm. What attractive lips he had, not slobbery wet or too thin, just moist and warm and—

“
Miss Drury,” he said. “Stop staring at my mouth. Don’t look at me like that.”

When had she star
ted displaying her thoughts on her face? She usually managed to hide her emotions. “I’m not looking at you like anything. I’m thinking about the other stories. The ones I want to write.”

“
Go on,” he said wearily. “Write whatever you want. We’ll talk later.”

She could escape
. She’d just ignore the fact that her main response to leaving his office was disappointment and for the life of her she couldn’t understand that response and most certainly didn’t want to. “When will we talk?”

“
A fortnight or thereabouts.”

She started for the door.
“I don’t take your kiss personally.”

“
Pardon?”

“
I think you’re frightened of the huge commitment you’re about to take, so you grabbed at the first woman you could.”

He went very still.
“No. I don’t think so.”

“
You’re not afraid of commitment?”

“
I’m terrified.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. “Don’t let’s start again, hmm? We’re finished with this conversation.” His voice grew slightly louder. “You are an entirely inappropriate choice for a man in my position.”

“
Of course.” She was indignant, but then a thought stopped her indignation dead: he’d considered her as a choice.

She
wished she didn’t blush. His eyes were closed, so he didn’t see her, but she could feel the heat rising and knew what that meant about herself. Excitement of a sort, because, though Sir Gideon had been rude in his dismissal, he’d actually thought of her in order to reject the idea.

She had strong theories
on the subject herself. “Physical attraction is arbitrary and thus can’t be a reasonable basis for any sort of decision.”

He nodded.
“Exactly. So we are in agreement. And you win, Miss Drury. You will write whatever goddamn bloody article you want. I will do my job and you will do yours. We will sell many, many newspapers.”

This was good. The truth on the table, undisguised. Her mistake with Gerry had been to mix lust and true regard.
And then there was the strange marriage of her parents that she sometimes suspected had started in the same physical manner. How distasteful.

If
she and Sir Gideon could reach this accord, she could stop fretting about the articles. She cleared her throat. “I did say I’ll write at least two articles about my impressions of English society.”

He reached for a paper and held it up in front of him
like a shield against her. “Fine, certainly, whatever you wish. Now if you wouldn’t mind? I have just gotten betrothed to an extremely sweet, biddable girl, and I need to be alone.”

The key word wa
s biddable, thought Lizzy. She’d never been described with that word and never would be. “Thank you, sir,” she said and trailed out of the office.

Miss Drur
y closed the door softly behind her as if leaving the sickroom of a desperately ill man.

Gideon
felt ill too. A brain disorder.

When had his life gone out of control? Although really, that was as hyperbolic as anything Miss Drury
might say. He had near-perfect control over most aspects.

True, h
e hadn’t meant to ask Lady Edith to marry him when he paid a visit. But she looked elegant. Beautifully dressed, quiet with a natural reserve, she represented all of the things he longed for. That graceful restraint from the passionate—and she wore her good breeding easily, along with her fine sense of which behavior fit any situation.

If she
’d been a man, she’d have been a diplomat—never a politician, though unlike her brother, she had the brains for it. She was far too cool and self-contained to push herself forward.

During his visit, he
’d told Lady Edith she would be the perfect choice for any man who wanted to advance in the world. He’d said it only as a compliment, but she’d understood it as more. And gently, skillfully, she’d managed to make him see that he, Sir Gideon, rough-and-tumble newspaperman though he’d once been, had a fine lineage and impeccable bloodlines to overcome that disadvantage, and he would be just the sort of man she’d best suit. Sooner rather than later.

Had
he actually asked her to marry him? He wasn’t certain. By the time he and her father and brother had drunk celebratory glasses of brandy, he’d grown slightly fuzzy on the details.

She
’d come back into the parlor as the men toasted one another, and her smile had been tight. Lady Edith, unlike anyone in his own family, occasionally made him feel young. Very young. Somewhere in the neighborhood of ten years old.

Sir Gideon
had said something about returning to work. Lord Ernest had piped up about wishing to see the workings of a real publishing house, and Gideon had found himself playing host to the foul young specimen, his future brother-in-law. To be fair to Ernest, he appeared to mean well. Ernest was earnest.

Gideon had been standing by his office
window, half listening to Ernest babble about Langham House’s marvelous huge printing press—garbling terms and getting basic facts wrong—when he had seen Miss Drury alight from the carriage.

She enthusiastically greeted several people
, including the constable walking the beat, who stopped to talk to her. Gideon suspected less than two days on the job and she was already making contacts with possible future sources.

Perhaps the copper was the one to start the conversation because the woman looked lovely.

The dress she wore was formfitting for once and Gideon was impressed. Even three stories up, he could see that despite her slender figure, she had full breasts and definite curves. For some reason he was almost aroused by the realization that the dress she wore was one he’d bought for her.

He
’d used his own funds, not the company’s, to cover Miss Drury’s delectable body.

And why the hell had he done that? The only answer he could come up with was
that brain disorder. Or perhaps something glandular.

Lookin
g out the window at the figure of Lizzy Drury, his body had gone into full alert. Christ, he’d gotten an erection despite Lord Ernest’s presence.

And then she
’d sailed into his office, all pink-cheeked and righteous and ruffled curls. Of course he’d had to kiss her. It was only surprising he didn’t shove down her bodice and yank up her skirts. If she hadn’t stopped him, he might have.

Amazing what the sight of a new dress can do
to a shallow man, he thought. And this was proof he must be as deep as a mud puddle. He’d gotten engaged to one woman at noon and thrust his tongue into the mouth of another at two o’clock.

T
hat business Miss Drury said about fear motivating the kiss was hogwash. He wasn’t frightened. He’d been planning to ask for Lady Edith’s hand for several months now. True, the actual engagement seemed sudden, but why not?

Lady Edith
represented the life he wanted—and had wanted for years. He liked and respected the woman, and was even drawn by her pale beauty. Although he couldn’t recall ever fighting his attraction to her…

Ha! That was because he didn
’t need to fight it.

Forbidden fruit. That had to be
the reason he wanted Miss Drury so very much. His own fault for hiring a bloody female, especially a young, pretty one with a seductive deep-throated laugh. A female that had admitted she wanted him—and damn, now his body was seized by the swooping sensation. Again.

Someone
knocked on the door. Gideon snarled, “Enter.”

His secretary dropped off copies of Langham
’s two afternoon papers on the desk, turned and left without saying a word. Jenks was good at reading Gideon’s mood.

Gideon
circled the huge desk and sat down, determined to tackle the huge stack of galleys, letters, and messages. The price of paper had dropped for once. He found another pleading letter from his sister. No wonder he had no problem outfitting Miss Drury. His sister had trained him to spend vast outlays on feminine clothing. At least Miss Drury hadn’t begged him for jewelry.

He wrote a short
, sharp note telling her she should be using her pin money from her husband and stop thinking of her brother as a bottomless source of funds. After he tore up that screed and wrote a less sarcastic version, he felt much better.

He
’d start on wrestling back control of his life from women and could concentrate on his real job. He got to work on reading over letters and accepted book proposals and didn’t think of Miss Drury again for almost an hour when Lord Petersly came to the office to find out how Miss Drury’s shopping expedition went.

Gideon, t
ired of his office, walked Petersly to a nearby pub and bought him a pint. Reporters and printers milled about the noisy smoke-filled pub, one of the few where the two crowds mixed. They eyed Gideon and gaped at the splendidly dressed Petersly, who didn’t seem to notice them as he looked around the dark interior with a bemused expression.

“
Do you come here often?” he asked at last.

“
Rarely.” Gideon tried to avoid catching the eye of a second-rate out-of-work writer who was smiling and nodding at him every time he faced forward. He shifted his chair. “I think my employees would resent it if I did. We could always go to the Stab in the Back or the Mucky Duck if you’d rather. The White Hart or the White Swan,” he translated. “They’re far finer institutions than this, and yes, I am telling the truth.”

“
I’m sure I don’t want to go to anywhere with those names.” Petersly examined the drunk printer’s devil who leaned on the bar on the verge of passing out or doing worse. “And I’m not certain I want to cavort with these people. Honestly, Langy, this is your idea of entertainment?”

“
I was a reporter myself, Lord Snob.”

Petersly
looked pained. “Why on earth? Some misguided sense of adventure?”

“
You know I left school. I had to earn money.” He didn’t bother explaining that his father had gambled away the family’s funds. “I just happened to be luckier than most to fall into work for which I was suited.”

“
You and your family’s story of riches to rags to riches,” Petersly muttered. He sipped the drink. “Charming. So tell me, when will I begin our adventure with Miss Drury?”

Gideon pulled out his watch and wound it. He drank some lager. Anything other than meeting that too alert gentleman
’s eye. At last he said, “I’m not sure when I’ll need your help.”

Petersly
arched his brows, “You’re not certain? Who is then?”

Gideon sniffed and checked his watch, again.

“Aha! I think I understand. You’re not in charge of your own paper, are you?”

“
I’m not an editor. I no longer deal with the day-to-day operations and—”

“
That woman is calling the shots. You’re allowing an employee—a female at that—to decide she doesn’t like the terms of her employment.

“
Bad enough you allow your employees to dictate where you can and cannot drink, although I suppose avoiding this place isn’t a hardship. From what I understand, the articles Miss Drury is supposed to write for you are simple and easy. She’d enjoy herself at the most elite events, report on a few conversations, and collect her pay packet. Must be a jolly nice packet too, if she came all this way. Ha, you’ve been far too indulgent with her. Just look at the way you hired her pet elephant—Clam or whatever he calls himself.”

Peter
sly knew very well what Oyster’s name was. Gideon suspected that the earl still hadn’t recovered from being cut by an American peasant.

He drained his pint and said,
“Drury’s not afraid of work. She just doesn’t like articles she considers fluff.”

“
She’s hired help, not some kind of royalty.”

“
I know,” Gideon snapped. “I’m tired of arguing with her and now you’re starting with me. Why don’t you go talk to her? Make some plans to attend a ball or two and she’ll be done.”

Peter
sly’s eyes narrowed speculatively and before Gideon could ask what he was thinking he changed the subject. “I only hope your wife is more amenable than your lady reporter.”

“
Of course.”

“
Lady Edith has a will of iron, you know. I’d be terrified to take her on.”

“
Luckily no one is asking you to.”

Peter
sly grinned. “Langham, I’m devilishly glad you landed on my doorstep the other night. I had no notion that I’d missed you all these years.”

Gideon wondered why the words made him uneasy. It was probably the grin which seemed too knowing. He finished his pint.
“Thanks, old man. But I’m on my way,” he announced. “Too much to do.”

“
I’ll walk with you back to that brick fortress of yours. We’ll find some way to get the girl back on track.”

Gideon stopped fishing around in his pocket for some coins to pay their bill.
“She’s not just sitting around on her arse. She’s a newspaperman and will sink her teeth into something good.”

“
Newspaper
man
? I beg to differ. I find your Miss Drury a refreshing creature and most definitely feminine.”

At last Gideon understood why Peter
sly was so determined to push for this story. He wanted to spend time with Miss Drury. For the first time, Gideon was glad she’d balked at the assignment. “No.”

Peter
sly feigned innocence. He wasn’t particularly adept at that role, perhaps because it had been so many years since he’d truly been an innocent. “I beg your pardon?”

“
Keep your hands off Miss Drury.”

“
You’re a newly engaged man, Langham. It seems rather decadent that you want her on the side.” He shook his head sadly. “And so soon after the betrothal.”

Langham managed not to wince as he remembered the kiss.
“I am her employer. It is my job to protect her.”

“
Is it? That is an interesting interpretation of your role.”

Gideon managed an angry
glare. It didn’t seem to affect Petersly, but at least a couple of the journalists hanging about the place stopped trying to meet his eye. “If I went to your country manor—”

“
We have an actual castle, dear boy. Farms and two villages as well. Abominably low rents but—”

“
If I went to your bloody moth-eaten poor excuse of a castle and started fondling your servants, you’d tell me to keep my hands to myself.”

“
Would I?” Petersly appeared to seriously consider the question. At last he said, “I don’t think so. Certainly if a servant came crying to me for help, I’d step in. But if your choice was willing, who am I to intercede? I’d expect you to pay her well if she agreed to any extra private service. And you’d better damn well take care of any little problems you might create. If it helps you feel better, I should be just as fair in my own dealings with Miss Drury.”

“
You’d give her money? You’d turn her into a bloody whore?” Gideon really should not have shouted. The pub suddenly went quiet. Not silent of course, but many ears had picked up what he’d said. Many gossip-sensitive ears.

“
I’m leaving,” he said and strode out of the place before he hit that smug, attractive face and provided the bastards with an even juicier story.

Outside he sped up.
Petersly trailed after him bleating. “I don’t know why you’re so upset. You certainly wouldn’t expect me to marry her. But I enjoy her company and would like to know her better.”

“
You’re right.” Gideon felt nauseated. His voice was low and rough, but it was better than screaming. “According to the way I’ve always run Langham House, her private life is none of my business. If it doesn’t impinge upon her work and she conducts herself with utter discretion, she can do whatever the hell she wishes.”