Dangerous to Kiss (21 page)

“I should like to know what you mean by this,” she said, indicating the green twill carriage dress she had donned.

Gray set aside the newspaper he had been reading and glanced at her coolly. “Sit down, Deborah,” he said. “There are some matters I wish to discuss with you before we are joined by the others.”

She threw him a fulminating look, but recognizing that particular tone, she accepted the chair he had indicated. Back straight, hands folded in her lap, she tapped her foot on the wooden floor, just to let him know that she wasn’t completely cowed by his imperious manner.

When he leaned forward slightly, pinning her with his stare, her foot stilled. “I told you yesterday,” he said, “that you were to be a guest in my home. That being the case, you will dress for the part. To continue as you were would be to invite unnecessary speculation, if not suspicion. If you are worried about being in my debt, you may consider it as part payment for your services for looking after Quentin these last few months. Damnation, girl,” he broke out as she opened her mouth to respond, “I do as much for any of my servants by providing their livery, and that’s a costly business, let me tell you. You are Quentin’s guardian, and my mother’s guest. I won’t have you mistaken for a poor relation. It would reflect badly on my family.”

“Poor relation” was almost as bad as “charity case.”
Did he think she enjoyed dressing like a frump? As much as any girl, she liked fine clothes and pretty things. There had never been the opportunity or the money to indulge herself. She didn’t want to indulge herself, not if it meant drawing attention to herself.

Her eyes burned with resentment, but she wasn’t in the mood to do battle with him. Compared to her anxieties for Quentin, her grievances seemed trivial. “What matters do you wish to discuss?” she asked.

He seemed surprised at her capitulation, and gave her a searching look before saying, “I have taken the liberty of engaging a maid for you, at least to accompany us as far as London. Once there, I’m sure my mother has maids in plenty to attend you. Then the girl can return to Wells.”

She knew she was just being contrary, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“I see no need for a maid. I am well beyond the years of requiring a chaperon.”

“How old are you, Deborah?”

“Four and twenty.”

“And I am almost ten years older than you, so you see, the maid is obligatory. Oh, I’m not thinking of your reputation, but my own. Should I be so foolish as to compromise you, the results would be dire, indeed. Marriage, Deborah, and to a rake, nothing could be more disastrous.”

When she smiled, his eyes narrowed. “Let me set your mind at rest, my lord,” she said. “Neither you nor all the king’s combined armies and navies could ever force me into that lethal trap.”

“I’ve used the same words myself, on occasion.”

She gave an exaggerated sigh. “At last we agree on something.”

Leaning back comfortably, Gray crossed his hands behind his neck. “You’ll change your mind when you meet the right man.”

His typical masculine response almost tempted her to put him straight about a few things. Almost, but not quite. She didn’t want him probing, didn’t want him to
use that shrewd intelligence of his to start putting two and two together.

“You said,” she reminded him gently, “that there were some matters you wished to discuss with me. If that is all, my lord, I should like to say my farewells to the Moffats before we leave.”

“That’s not all,” he said, straightening in his chair. “In a few minutes, Nick and Hart are going to come through that door, and I expect you to treat them with cordiality and respect. You will wipe from your mind the events of these last several days as though they had never happened. Do you understand what I am saying, Deborah?”

“I shall never be able to wipe the events of the last several days from my mind!”

Gray appeared unmoved by her indignant outburst. “Then you will become the consummate actress. You will act as though nothing happened. I’ll not have you subjecting Nick and Hart to your temper tantrums for merely following my orders. If you would only think about it, you would see that they were as reluctant as I to use you as we did, more so in fact, for I am not so easily taken in by the tears and protestations of a beautiful young woman.”

She stared at him blankly. The last time she had seen Nick or Hart had been right after Gray had carried her from the roof. Since then, there had not been the opportunity to see them. With the Moffats’ quarters being so cramped, they had been staying at the King’s Arms, and they rarely came to the house, and never before she was in her bed or had yet to rise. For the first time it occurred to her that they had been avoiding her, or they had been ordered to avoid her, and she wondered why.

The answer that came to her was self-evident. They were afraid to face her until her anger had time to cool. This seemed reasonable for Hart, but Nick was her friend. He had taken her part against his own brother, going so far as to help her escape. It was not Nick’s fault that Lord Kendal had been too clever for them. Nick could not be afraid to face her unless—

As comprehension dawned, she leapt to her feet, and
her chair went tumbling to the floor. “You devil!” she cried out. “Nick and Hart were merely following your orders! I was never meant to escape. From beginning to end, it was a trick. Nick was never my friend!”

“I thought you knew. I thought you would have worked it out by now.”

“My god, you brood of vipers! Is this what I may expect from your mother and sisters when I arrive in London? Are all you Graysons tarred with the same brush?”

He surged to his feet, a sudden fury blazing in his eyes. “You may call me any vile names you choose, but when you speak of my mother and sisters, you will speak with respect.”

She whirled away from him, intent only on escaping his hateful presence. Gray was too quick for her. Seizing her by the arm, he jerked her back to face him.

“You gave me your word that you would obey me in all things. If you wish to renege on that promise, tell me now. I’ll not have my family set on its ears by an ill-bred termagant. But think on this, Deborah, before you give me your answer. If you desert Quentin now, you forfeit all chance of seeing him again.”

So intent were they on each other that they barely heard the voices in the hallway.

“Even you could not be so cruel!” she cried out.

“Try me!” he retorted.

“I say, aren’t you two ready to leave yet?” Nick stood on the threshold, a sheepish grin on his face. Hart stood behind him, his wary eyes trained on the overturned chair.

She jerked her arm free from Gray’s clasp and turned to face them. What a fool she had been, what a blind, gullible fool! The words to flay them trembled on the tip of her tongue.

“Deborah!” Gray’s eyes were flinty. His tone promised swift retribution if she disobeyed him.

She executed a deep, respectful curtsy which she held for an inordinate length of time. “Gentlemen,” she said, rising, “I have not had the opportunity to thank you for your hospitality, and your many kindnesses to me.”

The cordial tone encouraged Nick to advance into the room. The significance of her remarks had yet to register. Hart, who had more experience of a woman’s humors, retreated strategically to the far side of a long sofa. At her side, Gray stiffened.

She smiled sweetly upon each gentleman in turn. “Words are inadequate to express my feelings. May I say merely that one day I hope to repay you all in full measure?”

Nick watched her with a bemused smile on his face as she made a graceful exit. Hart let out the breath he had been holding. Gray combed his fingers through his hair.

“Well,” said Nick, turning to face his companions. “I think that went off rather well. That girl has the sweetest, most forgiving disposition of anyone I know. Gray, you are a lucky fellow.”

Gray let out a furious expletive and he, too, left the room. Hart rolled his eyes and told Nick not to be more of a simpleton than he could help.

“What did I say?” demanded Nick querulously, following on Hart’s heels as he descended the stairs to the waiting carriage. “What did I say?”

The carriage halted and Deborah’s head jerked, awakening her from the light sleep she had fallen into. Using her glove, she cleared the mist from one pane of glass and looked out. A light drizzle was falling, obscuring her view, but she knew that Gray was out there somewhere, mounted on his roan. It had been like this from the moment they had begun their journey two days before. Though the carriage could hold six comfortably, the three gentlemen rarely entered, but preferred to ride on horseback, resting every hour or two as they came to various hostelries. They were giving her a wide berth because they thought that was what she wanted. She would not see any of them again until they came to their next stop.

She sank back against the cushions of the banquette
and allowed her lashes to fall. This time, sleep eluded her, but she had plenty of thoughts to keep her company. The strain of keeping her companions at arm’s length was beginning to tell on her. They deserved a lot worse than her long silences for what they had done to her. All the same, it seemed to her that by ostracizing
them
, she was also punishing herself. The maid who had been hired to act as her chaperon was a pleasant enough companion, but Treana was little more than an adolescent. She was no conversationalist, and Deborah was starved for adult conversation. More than once, as they dined, she had been tempted to join in one of the conversations that was going on around the table. From Gray’s expression, she suspected that he was deliberately trying to draw her out of herself. She had devoted herself to Quentin, but the trouble with Quentin was that he hung on every word that fell from his idol’s lips. He didn’t notice her silences, or if he did, he thought that she, too, was hanging on every word Lord Kendal said.

Sometimes, she could hardly believe that the fine gentlemen who solicitously saw to her comfort on the long, tedious journey were the same men who had terrorized her when she was their captive. Hart, in particular, had undergone the greatest transformation. He addressed her in the most respectful tones, but it was his kindness to Quentin that made the greater impression. His son, Jason, he promised, was eagerly awaiting Quentin’s visit to their home so that the boys could have glorious times together. Hart spoke of his wife and son in such fond terms that Deborah had a hard time remembering that when she was his prisoner, one look from him had made her knees knock together. That was the thing about men. Until a woman was completely in their power, she had no way of knowing whether they would use their superior strength to protect her or crush her. Hart’s wife was fortunate, but it could just as easily have gone the other way.

She opened her eyes a fraction to find that her maid was covertly studying her. There was nothing new in this. Treana was under the illusion, which Nick had maliciously
fostered for reasons known only to himself, that Lord Kendal had a romantic interest in
her
, Deborah. From that moment on, Treana had minutely scrutinized her mistress, her clothes, her manners, her conversation, as if she were Deborah’s understudy in a play they were rehearsing.

The girl fancied Lord Kendal. Treana didn’t exactly make a spectacle of herself like some of the females they had encountered at posting houses along the way. She merely trailed his lordship with her big, soulful brown eyes, and let out little telling sighs whenever her hero addressed a few careless words to her. The looks she bestowed on Deborah, when she wasn’t studying her, were closer to a reproach. She could not understand why Deborah held herself aloof from Lord Kendal and Deborah did not enlighten her.

It was all beginning to grate on Deborah’s nerves and she was not sorry that once they reached London, the little lovestruck maid would, almost immediately, make the return journey to Wells. His lordship had promised that his mother had plenty of maids to see to her needs. She hoped they weren’t all as gullible as Treana.

It galled her that he was attractive to women, and not just the young, pretty ones either. That he possessed a surfeit of good looks, she had never denied. But that was not the only reason for his effect on the opposite sex. To alleviate the boredom of their journey, she had made a study of
him
, in much the same way as her maid studied her. The man unconsciously evoked an impression of power and authority, a man who was not to be trifled with. Well, she could vouch for that. It was, however, the charm which got her goat, if “charm” was the right word for it. He wasn’t like Nick. He didn’t have a repertoire of roguish smiles and grins that invited a woman to respond in kind. He simply gave a woman his complete and undivided attention, as though she were the last woman in the world, and it worked. He never wasted those looks on her. She was a lost cause, and she hoped he knew it.

When they pulled in to the Castle Inn in Marlborough,
the last stop of the day, and Gray helped her alight, she spoke to him in a friendly way as she did whenever Quentin was watching them. As far as Quentin knew, they were the best of friends. The laughter in Lord Kendal’s eyes told her that he knew what she was up to.