One Dangerous Desire (Accidental Heirs) (10 page)

She leaned into him again, just as Lady Emily and Sullivan stepped up out of the rink.

“You took a bit of a tumble, my dear.” Lady Emily seemed determined to take over tending Caroline, and Rex was content to relinquish the task.

“Lady Caroline is uninjured?” Sullivan inquired as he stood watching the skaters as if he too wished to reenter the fray.

“Quite. A bit shaken up but unharmed.” Rex moved next to him and spoke quietly. “Where’s Miss Sedgwick?” He could see Devenham, who was skating alongside a couple he’d never met, but May’s peach-colored gown looked similar to many worn by dark-haired women whirling past.

“I only see the earl. Has he left her all alone in this crush?” The disgust in Sullivan’s voice matched Rex’s feelings about the man.

“There she is.” Rex spotted her between two groups of ladies, none of whom she seemed to know. Though she skated with masterful grace, she turned her head from side to side as she rolled along, looking a bit lost.

“I’m going to get her.” Just as she approached, Rex stepped down into the rink and gathered momentum to draw up behind her.

He reached for her, his fingers brushing just above her elbow. “Your partner seems to have abandoned you.”

“I thought you said I wasn’t the sort of woman who required rescuing.” Despite her sarcastic tone, she adjusted her pace to allow him to skate beside her.

“So it seems. You’re very good at this.” He meant the compliment. May made skating look effortless. She moved with enough speed to cause loose waves of hair to ripple along her shoulder.

“That fact shocks you?” She glanced at him before focusing ahead again and lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “My mother used to take me ice skating in the park every winter. Until she fell ill.”

An exuberant couple moving far too swiftly and wobbling back and forth came up from behind. Rex and May made space for them to pass. As they rolled by, the lady wobbled a bit too far and shot an arm out to grasp May’s sleeve.

“Pardon me, miss,” she called as her partner caught her and the two picked up speed.

May laid a hand on Rex’s forearm to steady herself. A simple action. A practical touch.

It kicked Rex’s pulse into a gallop. He took advantage, wrapping a hand around her waist so that they moved in unison, the lush flare of her hip pressed against his upper thigh.

“One misstep and you’ll bring us both down.” She was close enough to whisper the words, and he wondered if she intended the double meaning. There was no doubt the lady could maintain her balance in the skating rink, but he hadn’t mistaken her eagerness when he’d kissed her on Ashworth’s back terrace. Or her anger when she’d stormed away and vowed to marry an aristocrat.

“I won’t let you fall, May.” He wouldn’t allow any injury to come to her in the rink, and he wouldn’t toy with her heart. He loosened his hold on her waist and immediately felt less. Less satisfied. Less whole. As if being near her filled an emptiness he didn’t know existed until she moved away.

She turned her head, and he felt the press of her gaze. Apparently, the lady could skate without even watching where she was going. He didn’t yet possess such skill and kept his eyes fixed ahead.

“I have no intention of falling, Mr. Leighton.” She dipped forward to burst ahead of him, and one long black ribbon at the back of her gown slipped through his fingers, inch by inch. Cutting to the right of several skaters, she slowed and gripped the rail along the rink, stepping up onto the platform ringing the arena.

He circled twice more, focusing on the skaters and the whirring drone of movement and chatter. It wasn’t unlike the hum of the enormous dynamo that would generate electricity at the Pinnacle. The sound and the cooling ripple of air against his face as he skated eased a bit of the tension in his body, but it did nothing to erase the scent of her. One touch and he could smell her perfume wafting off his clothing and skin. He clenched the hand he’d placed at her waist into a fist, less out of frustration than a desire to hold onto the memory of touching her.

“Caroline.” The name felt odd on his tongue, but he forced himself to focus on the lady who watched him intently from the edge of the rink. She’d been the only noblewoman to show interest beyond a meaningless tumble or short-lived affair. He had every reason to propose, and soon. Though he had money on hand to pay Thorndike for the property itself, he’d need Ashworth’s funds to start the renovations he envisioned.

He stepped up to join Caroline and the rest of their party.

“You’ve returned to me,” she said, casting a less than charitable glance in May’s direction.

“Have I given you cause for doubt, my lady?”

She pressed against him. Her scent, cloyingly sweet, trounced May’s roses. “Not as yet, though I could think of several ways a gentleman might set a lady’s mind at ease.”

Rex pivoted so that he couldn’t see May, not even out of the corner of his eye. “Tell me your ways, Caroline, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter Eleven

T
HEY WERE BECOMING
a frequent foursome, she and Henry, and Rex and Caroline. The prospect of carrying on this way for the rest of their lives—attending parties together, elbow to elbow at balls, sharing the occasional carriage or train trip, and socializing at holidays—made May’s head ache. A little twinge had already begun building to a throbbing crescendo behind her eyes.

Today they’d planned an outing to the British Museum. May arrived early and stood tapping her foot and fussing with her gloves next to one of the museum’s soaring Ionic columns. Normally, she adored wandering its vast collections, but today she’d have to fret about sliding her glance toward Rex too often, or attending more carefully to his comments than to Henry’s. His scent would distract her, as it always did. A grin would catch her eye, a rumble of laughter, or his warm, deep voice would draw her notice over everyone else’s.

Don’t stand too close to him. And don’t notice when Caroline does.

“Are you talking to yourself?” Rex approached up Great Russell Street, his dark hair ruffling in the breeze. The length was too long for the dictates of gentleman’s fashion, and it suited him perfectly. He was a conundrum of a man, trying to fit into London society, and yet doing so on his own terms.

Why did he insist on being so irritatingly admirable?

“Reminding myself.” To not stand close to the man who drew up next to her, far closer than anyone other than a lady’s escort should.

“Of what?” He looked genuinely interested. The sincerity in his gaze was the hardest part to ignore.

“Never mind. Have you been to the museum before?” A safe topic, surely.

“Regrettably no, but I take it you have.” He grinned, a sly, conspiratorial tilt of his mouth that burst into a smile.

May held her breath and counted to ten to keep herself from doing something ridiculous, like returning his smile with a dazed one of her own. He rarely let those go. Those beautiful, carefree smiles that softened the angles of his face and creased the skin around his blue-gold eyes. Truly, he should warn a woman beforehand.

“Yes, but why are you smiling like that?”

“Since I first heard of your arrival in London, I imagined you here.” He took a step closer, blocking the cool breeze and surrounding her with his scent and warmth. “I imagined you haunting all of the museums in the city. Just like you did in New York.”

He spoke of their past together so easily, almost offhandedly. As if all the pain of their broken romance had been salved over. As if every memory she had of him didn’t still clutch at her heart in a bittersweet tangle.

She looked away. His gaze was too intense, reminded her too much of how he’d looked at her six years ago. Traffic whirred past, and beyond it a swift-moving procession of people, some crossing toward the black gates edging the museum. Among the cluster of faces, one stood out. The unmistakable figure of Mr. Graves ambled up the path toward the museum’s main colonnade.

“Oh no.” May frantically scanned the faces behind him, expecting to see her father in tow.

“What is it?” Rex glanced back toward the street.

“I just . . . ” She saw no sign of her father and sighed with relief. “Why don’t we go inside?” May moved, hoping Rex would follow her into the shadow of one of the large columns. When he didn’t, she reached for his coat sleeve and tugged him out of Graves’s view.

Rex arched a dark eyebrow and refused to budge.

“What is it?” He continued to look behind him, searching the crowd. Then he turned back to her with narrowed eyes. “You’re skittish. As if you’ve recognized someone, and are afraid we’ll be seen together.”

“Yes, precisely. Let’s go inside.” May started toward the main doors, eager to avoid a run-in with her father’s business partner.

“Wait.” Rex gripped her hand. “We’re not running away. Can’t you just explain to whoever it is that I’m only the man who tags along while the Earl of Devenham attempts to woo you?”

“Is that who you are?” May snatched her hand away. Even through her glove, she felt seared where he’d held her. “And here I thought I was just the woman who tagged along while you wooed Lady Caroline Grisham.”

He strode toward her. Nearly toe to toe. “You’ll never be
just
anything, May. You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever known.” He lifted a hand as if he might touch her and then retracted it. “All too memorable.”

May gasped. The words struck her in the center of the chest, stealing all her air. The pain ricocheted down, and the recollection of that moment—no, not one—the many, many moments that she’d stood waiting for him in Central Park came back with aching clarity.

And he knew; he could see what he’d done. He tipped his head back and clenched his teeth.

“Say it,” he said without looking at her. “Whatever you need to say.”

“A man who forgot me doesn’t deserve to call me memorable.” The words eased the tightness in her chest. It was a relief to get them out, though Rex looked anything but relieved. He lowered his head to gaze at her again.

“I never forgot you,” he said slowly, carefully drawing out each word.

“Miss Sedgwick?” Mr. Graves loomed past Rex’s left shoulder. “I can’t say I am surprised to find you at a museum.”

“Mr. Graves.” May smiled at the older man and stepped toward him, though Graves’s eyes locked on her companion. Rex had turned to face the man, and May drew in a steadying breath before beginning introductions.

“Mr. Graves, may I introduce Mr. Rex Leighton.”

The older man’s gray eyebrows winged up. He recognized Rex. May saw it in his gaze.

“Mr. Graves is my father’s business partner. He’s been in charge of managing the New York store for many years.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Rex reached out his hand. “You’re a long way from home, sir.”

“As are you, Mr. Leighton.”

The two men began a surprisingly amicable exchange regarding the oddities of conducting business as Americans in London. It was all very well that the two had discovered common ground, but May thought only of whether Graves would tell her father she’d spent the morning bickering with Rex in front of the British Museum, when he expected her to be on an outing with Lord Devenham and his sister.

One of the great advantages of Mr. Graves’s visit to London was that he kept her father occupied. The two were continually off together conducting business meetings with potential investors for the London branch of Sedgwick’s they hoped to establish. Yet it also meant they talked daily, and Graves would doubtlessly feel duty bound to tell her father he’d seen them together.

“We’re meeting the Earl of Devenham and his sister for a browse through the collections,” May offered, anxiety causing her voice to pitch higher. If her father was going to hear this story, she wished him to know all the details.

“Then I’ll leave you to it.” Mr. Graves approached her, drew up to her elbow, and whispered, “I’ve been keeping your father’s secrets for years, Miss Sedgwick. I’m quite capable of discretion.” He tipped his head and offered her a reassuring grin. “Enjoy your visit to the museum.”

Rex’s coat sleeve brushed hers when he drew up next to her. “Not nearly as bad as you expected, was it?”

“He may still tell my father.”

“I don’t think so.” Rex shook his head. “He seems a decent man.”

“He is.” May watched Mr. Graves as he entered the museum. “Quite a savvy business man too. Not nearly as reckless as my father. He’s been teaching me about managing Sedgwick’s. I think he believes I’ll take over from my father one day.” She didn’t think it prudent to tell Rex or anyone about Mr. Graves’s fears for the shop’s future.

“Will you?” He asked the question without a hint of derision. As if he truly believed she could step into her father’s shoes.

She scoffed, and laughter bubbled up. His question touched too closely on wishes she hadn’t expressed to anyone but Em. Notions she’d been doing her best to squelch.

Slanting his head to the side, Rex watched her a moment and then asked, “Has Sedgwick really insisted that you not speak to me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” May turned to gaze up at him. “He’s wary of your intentions.” When Rex smirked, she rushed on. “Not that you have any intentions toward me.”

“Don’t I?”

Pulling away from him, May spun to face him and placed her hands on her hips. “Do you?”

The longer Rex took to answer, the fiercer the fluttering that had begun tickling in her belly. His answer mattered far too much.

“My main intention regarding you is to keep my distance.” His mouth flattened and the muscles of his face tensed, as if he was gritting his teeth. He swept a look down the length of her body and swallowed hard. “But I can’t seem to manage it.”

He took a step toward her, as if to prove his words. “I’m not sure I want to.”

Neither do I.
What she wanted was dangerous to her heart. Scandalous to her reputation. She wanted him to kiss her, in public, on the front colonnade of the British Museum, in view of London and Mr. Graves and whoever might chance to see.

As if he read the sentiment in her head, his gaze fixed on her mouth.

“Leighton. May. Forgive us for being late.” Henry’s voice splashed over her like chilled water, and May stumbled back from Rex.

A moment later Caroline inserted herself next to Rex and possessively slid her gloved hand around his arm. “Are we ready to begin?”

Henry greeted May, offered his arm, and led the way into the museum. As she followed, she sensed Rex watching her. If the earl and his sister hadn’t arrived when they did, she would’ve done something foolish. Yet she couldn’t manage an ounce of relief. Rather, she felt bound and fettered, unable to speak to him or even look his way, though she was aware of Rex moving next to her. Her every nerve attuned to the sound of his voice as he chattered with Caroline.

An hour later, the sculptures began to blur. She was exhausted with the effort of focusing on what she should and making polite conversation with Henry, rather than noting how Rex reacted to each new relic they viewed.

As they progressed through the Egyptian rooms, two couples taking one of the guided tours recognized Henry and Caroline and broke from their group. Though Henry politely introduced her, Caroline elbowed forward to embrace the young ladies. As the three began chitchatting excitedly, Henry stepped aside to speak to the gentlemen.

Out of the corner of her eye, May could see Rex standing, hands clasped behind his back and feet planted wide, staring up at the lofty ceiling. Looking up, she expected to see a mural she’d somehow missed on previous visits. Instead, she lifted a hand over her face to shield her eyes.

“Electric lighting,” he said in a pleased tone, one of those compelling smiles breaking over his face.

“They’re very bright.”

“Isn’t it wonderful?” He rushed toward her, positioned himself just behind her, and pointed to one of the colossal Egyptian busts in front of them. “See how it makes the stone glow. No other light source could bring him to life like that.” He sounded almost giddy.

“It is impressive.” May pressed her lips together to hold in a chuckle and turned her head to glance at Rex. “But that is Ramesses II, one of Egypt’s most powerful pharaohs. If he were brought to life, I suspect he’d be quite irritated to find his broken statue on display in London.”

May studied the statue’s regal face. “Can you believe it’s carved from a single piece of granite?”

When she looked back at him, Rex was grinning. “You love all of this, don’t you? The different styles of design, the colors and shapes?” He pointed to the pharaoh towering above them. “Is this your favorite sculpture in the museum, then?”

“Would you really force me to choose a favorite?” They hadn’t even visited the Elgin Room and its extraordinary Greek marble sculptures yet.

Rex’s expression turned hard and stony. He spoiled all of the light-hearted pleasure of the moment by turning his gaze toward Henry.

“Eventually, we all have to make a choice.” His tone was as hollow as it had been joyful a moment before. As he stepped away from her, May heard the click of Henry’s boot heels approaching and Caroline’s voice as she called to Rex.

“Why don’t we leave this musty old place and have some fun?” Caroline asked with a tug on Rex’s arm. “Madame Tussaud’s is just up the Marylebone Road.”

“What do you say?” Henry placed his hand gently at May’s back.

“The choice is yours, my lord.”

“Madame Tussaud’s it is.” Henry guided her away quickly. No time to cast a glance at Rex. No chance of returning to the most carefree moment they’d spent since meeting again in Ashworth’s drawing room.

“You’ll find the wax museum much more enjoyable,” Henry assured as he settled next to her in a hired hansom cab.

A pressure built at the nape of May’s neck, and she wanted to look back. To see if Rex and Caroline had secured their own cab. To know if he still looked as miserable as he had moments before. But when she turned her head, Henry was there, smiling and chatting away about the wonders they’d see at Madame Tussaud’s.

May couldn’t see Rex past the hood of the carriage, and she told herself that was for the best.