away Tallie’s breath. He tossed aside the portfolio of papers he was reading and got to his feet as they entered the room. Tallie realised she had never been so conscious of how long his legs were nor of how easily he moved.
‘A successful meeting?’ he asked with a smile, which faded as he took in the anxiety on his aunt’s face. ‘What is wrong?’
‘I think we had better talk about it over luncheon, Nicholas. Talitha and I will be down in a moment; will you be so kind as to tell Rainbird we will wait upon ourselves.’
* * *
Shortly after, Tallie sat down apprehensively and passed cold meats to Lady Parry at her side. She took a slice of bread and began to cut it into thin fingers.
‘Aunt Kate?’ Nick took a slice of beef, but did not start to eat. ‘What has occurred?’
‘Just a foolish idea of mine,’ Tallie said defensively. ‘The more I think about it, the more—’
‘Talitha believes she, or perhaps we, are being followed.’
Nick’s brows drew together sharply. ‘By whom?’
‘A thin man in a greatcoat and beaver hat.’
‘I am sure it is just a coincidence,’ Tallie murmured. His grey eyes turned to her face and he raised one brow.
‘And how often has this coincidence struck you?’
‘Four times,’ she admitted. ‘At least three I am certain of. I am sure I had seen him before—perhaps once, perhaps more—which is why I noticed him the next time.’
‘Did he approach you? Try to speak to you?’
Tallie shook her head and Lady Parry added, ‘I am certain he has some criminal intent. Perhaps he is trying to find a pattern to our comings and goings so he can break into the house. After all, look at poor Mr Harland.’
For a second the mask of calm enquiry that Nick was wearing cracked. His head turned sharply to his aunt. ‘Harland? What has happened to him?’
‘The house was broken into,’ Lady Parry explained. ‘It is dreadful how lawless the streets of London are becoming.’
‘And what was taken?’
‘Nothing apparently. They just searched amongst the canvases.’
‘Interesting.’ He said it almost to himself. ‘Now that is interesting.’
‘What shall we do about the man in the beaver hat, Nicholas dear?’
‘Go nowhere without two of the larger footmen in attendance and tell the coachman to carry a blunderbuss. I will speak to Rainbird. I would not worry, Aunt Kate—if this man has any sinister intent, he will soon see you are well protected and shift his interest elsewhere.’
Lady Parry appeared to find this sufficient reassurance and began to talk cheerfully of her planned portrait. Tallie was not so sure. She made herself eat her bread and butter and sip a little from her glass while watching Nick from under her lowered lashes. She could tell he was thinking furiously, despite the flow of inconsequential talk he was maintaining in response to his aunt.
When they rose from the table he intercepted her. ‘Tallie, I would like to speak to you if I may.’
She cast a hunted look at the dining-room door closing behind Lady Parry. She knew she should reprove him for using her pet name, but the sound of it on his lips was seductively sweet.
‘I promise I am not going to kiss you,’ he said infuriatingly. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion and he added, ‘Or do anything else to take advantage of—what did you call it?—oh, yes, our unfortunate mutual physical attraction.’
‘Good.’ Tallie edged around the table. Despite his assurances she still felt safer with a width of shining mahogany between them. Quite whether it was Nicholas or herself that she was nervous of she was not prepared to examine. ‘What do you want to talk about?’
‘Will you reconsider telling me about your secret? The one you believe my aunt knows all about. Only I do not believe she does.’
‘No, you are correct. She does not. I honestly believed it when I told you that, but I was wrong.’ It was a relief to tell him some of the truth if not all.
‘Tell me.’ He sat down opposite her.
Feeling a little more secure, Tallie sat too. Her legs were shaking. ‘Why?’
‘Because I think it would be safer if you did.’
It was very tempting. Tallie stared into the grey eyes, but they did not hold the reassurance she was looking for. It would not take very much to make her blurt it all out—she could quite understand why people confessed to crimes when questioned. But the inimical gaze regarding her belonged to the man who did not trust her, did not approve of her friends, who wanted her out of his family’s house and lives. The fact that she loved him did not make it any easier, it simply made the thought of the expression on his face when he discovered the truth harder to bear.
‘No.’ He looked a question and she said angrily, ‘Why should I? You make it quite clear you do not trust me. You disapprove of my friends, you wish me gone from here. Why should I hand you a weapon against me?’
‘Is this a war, then?’ He raised a long-fingered hand and rubbed a hand over his face. It was an uncharacteristically weary gesture.
‘It feels like one.’ Tallie wanted to go round and stand behind his chair, massage his shoulders, gently rub his temples until that tiredness ebbed away and he relaxed. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap.
‘I did not approve of your friends. I was wrong. I apologise. Miss Scott is an intelligent and principled woman. Miss LeNoir is a talented and virtuous one, and Mrs Blackstock seems eminently respectable.’
‘Thank you,’ Tallie said stiffly.
‘If I do not trust you, it is your judgement I mistrust, not your motives. As for your presence in this house—’ He broke off, pushed his hand through his hair and got to his feet, turning as he rose so that she could not see his face. ‘It is my aunt’s house, it is up to her who resides here. She enjoys your company very much. I believe she is proud of your success.’
‘Why, thank you.’
‘I try and fight fair,’ he said ruefully.
Tallie almost fell for it. Then she caught herself. Fight fair? With enquiry agents investigating her? Fight fair when he had discovered that if he took her in his arms she trembled and responded to him with an utterly shameless ardour?
‘Thank you,’ she said again. ‘But unfortunately I trust your motives as little as you trust my judgement, so I am afraid we are at a stalemate.’
‘You will not tell me? Is it so very dreadful? You were prepared to speak of it to my aunt, and presumably would have done so if she had not said something that convinced you she already knew.’
‘What I might discuss with another woman—and one who is my patroness—is
