Perhaps the scoundrel only had a heart for the downtrodden.
As the carriage rumbled to a stop, Mr Wycliff signalled to his groom that he would open the door.
Scarlett drew her red wrapper firmly around her shoulders, for protection as opposed to keeping out the cold. “I presume you lied, that there is no prior engagement and you’re taking me home.”
“Indeed. While I would have liked to bring the matter to a hasty conclusion, it seems you’ll have the pleasure of my company for a few days.”
“Tonight has been an utter waste of time and effort.” She grasped his fingers as he assisted her into the carriage. Whenever they touched, she was transported back to the moment he caressed her cheek and made a vow, to the moment she knew what it meant to have a dream.
“Not a total waste,” he said as he followed her inside and settled into the seat opposite. “Your information about Joshua Steele is most helpful.”
“Joshua? Why, because you can use it to blackmail him?”
“No, though the idea has merit. Because it means he has a good reason for wanting you dead.”
Chapter Seven
“Joshua has other reasons for wanting to get rid of me,” the widow declared.
She held her hands demurely in her lap as she stared out of the window at the passing street lamps. Her voice carried a nervous edge, one she never showed in company, one that suggested she had been lapse when divulging important details.
“And if he has confided in his sister,” she continued, “Jemima will do everything possible to protect him. After all, she has little chance of marrying, and will be clutching his coat-tails well into spinsterhood.”
“What other reasons?” Had Damian known of them earlier, had he known Joshua Steele tried to seduce his damn stepmother, he would have cornered the degenerate in the library, instead of his twiggy sister.
The widow dragged her gaze from the window. “I trust I have your full confidence in all matters?”
“If you’re asking me to swear allegiance, there is no need.” No one had ever asked for his loyalty. It was a burden he wasn’t sure he wanted. “I take no pleasure in gossip. I take no
pleasure in betrayal.”
“And everyone knows you’re a man who lives for pleasure.” Her quick reply rang of condescension.
“In my experience life has little else to offer,” he said, both relieved and disappointed she did not know that he lived only to feed the hatred festering within.
Silence descended as she studied him in the dimly lit confines of the carriage—a penetrating stare that attempted to burrow beneath the rugged landscape.
Her intense blue gaze fixed him to the seat. She leant forward, her outstretched hand finding his to give a reassuring squeeze. Heat crept up his neck as his pulse quickened. Heat flowed through his fingers and journeyed up his arm to bathe his chest in a comforting glow. There was only one way to rid himself of the sensation—drag her into his lap, ravage her mouth and slake his lust. But despite her widow status, he could never treat her like a common harlot.
“Then tonight, I shall clasp my hands together, Mr Wycliff, and pray life delivers something infinitely more rewarding.”
Pray?
The only person to draw rosary beads through her fingers and plead for his happiness had long since departed this world.
A hard lump formed in his throat.
The pressure spread to his tongue until it ached.
“Then in return I shall give you my fealty, Widow,” he said, desperate to banish these foreign feelings, desperate to return to the place where arrogance reigned supreme.
When the widow released his hand and relaxed back in the seat, he almost sighed with relief. But then she offered him a smile, a genuine angelic expression that spoke of sincerity, and he was nearly lost again.
“While parading as the Scarlet Widow, I discovered that shrewdness is one’s ally,” she said, moving the conversation away from talk of redemptive prayers. “When one sits at a table with card sharps, one must know how to protect their hand.”
“It helps if you understand the game.”
“And yet young men often fall foul of the rules. Joshua Steele’s need to find his own means of support led to substantial debts at a gaming hell known as The Silver Serpent.”