As they were racing through town on their way north, he closed the curtains so no one could see Diana with him. “Does your cousin have an equipage of his own?”
She tensed. “A phaeton. But it needs work, so I don’t know if he would have taken that.”
“He didn’t take a phaeton. From what my servant described, he’s in a post chaise, probably rented. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t his. So, assuming he rented it, he has to be taking the usual roads to Gretna Green.” He drummed his fingers on his knee. “My damned sister told the servant that she wanted that note left for you because she was planning to meet you at a shop, and her ‘friend’ was taking her there.”
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry.”
“Why? Did you plan the elopement?”
“No, indeed!”
“Then you have nothing to apologize for,” Geoffrey said. “If anything, you showing me that note and not taking part in Rosy’s deception will enable us to find her in time. If you had done as she asked—which you could have, because I had no clue that the note came from her—we wouldn’t now be on the road with some idea of how and where to find them.”
“I know, but I still need to explain about Winston.”
“You don’t have to. Honestly, you don’t.”
“I want to.” She set her bag on the seat next to her. “When your sister first told me about Winston, I cautioned her exactly as I told you.”
“I know. She confirmed it.”
“What you don’t know is that I wrote a note to Winston, asking him not to tell you of our personal connection. I was afraid you would change your mind about hiring us if you knew he was our cousin.”
“I might have. Or I might have seen it as a way to keep watch over the enemy.”
She winced. “Regardless, it was very wrong of me.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He smiled at her. “Now, are you finished reciting your sins?”
“I–I believe I am.”
“Good. Because I’m ready to give you absolution.” Reaching across the carriage, he hauled her over and onto his lap.
“What on earth are you doing?” she cried, but he noticed she didn’t try to get off.
“Didn’t you wonder why I brought the cumbersome carriage to Grosvenor Square in the first place, instead of coming over in my curricle, for example?”
“I confess I hadn’t even considered it.”
“I did it so that in case everything went according to plan and you agreed to marry me, I could take you for a drive in the park and do this.” He gave her a long, deep kiss, relishing every minute of her swift capitulation. “And this.” He removed her fichu, then kissed his way down between her breasts. “And this.” He reached one hand up beneath her skirts to caress her bare thighs through the long slit running along the inner sides of her drawers.
But before he went any higher, it occurred to him he should probably check something first. “Are you still on your courses?” He knew some women preferred not to make love then.
“No, I’m not.” She parted her legs. “And if you had tried this in the park, I would most definitely have been ruined. But I suppose we’re far enough away from Grosvenor Square that no one will recognize the carriage at once, and if they do, they’ll assume you merely wanted privacy to sleep or something. There’s really not much to the northwest of Hyde Park.”
He moved his hand higher. “Excellent. Although that only means Lord Winston probably has a good lead on us.”
“Wait. How do you know about women’s courses?”
He froze. “Um . . . Rosy told me?”
“Rosy blushed whenever she mentioned her own breasts, which she always called her ‘bosom.’ So there’s no way she told you.” When he opened his mouth, she added, “And before you suggest that your mother told you, be aware that men’s mothers definitely do not talk of their courses to their sons.”
“Right.” He sighed. “Actually, I learned of it from a merry widow I kept company with in my salad days.”
She stopped his hand before it could go any higher. “You’re not still—”
“Oh, no. It ended when she found out I was fourteen.”