she said firmly. Then, a little louder, ‘No. It would not be right.’
‘You are refusing my offer?’
‘Most certainly.’
The ungrateful baggage. He had never exerted himself to such an extent for anyone else, or promised so much of his time to aid their cause.
It was Will all over again. Spurning the hand of friendship which he’d extended and spitting in his face.
His face shuttered. ‘On your own head be it, then.’
‘What do you mean?’
She frowned up at him, those ridiculous feathers bobbing in the breeze. She really had no idea. Over the next few days, society would beat a path to her door, whether she wanted them to or not.
There was nothing she could do to prevent it. Everyone had seen him driving an unknown female around the park not once, but three times, and all the while engaged in animated conversation. He had taken care not to acknowledge anyone, which would stoke their curiosity about her to fever pitch. Why, they would want to know, would such a renowned connoisseur of female beauty have paid so much attention to this rather vulgarly attired little nonentity?
They would want to know who she was, what her connection was to him and where she had come from. They would not leave her be until they had pried every last one of her secrets from her. She would very soon regret her stubborn refusal to make her a reigning queen of society. Then—oh, yes, then he would have this proud little Puritan crawling to him.
‘You will find out. And when you do, don’t forget that I offered my protection.’
When they reached the gates the next time he put his team straight through them and took the turn out on to Oxford Street.
Henrietta could see she had offended him by turning him down, but really, after only these two encounters with him, she was sure it would be better never to tangle with him again. He was too autocratic. Too far out of her social sphere. Too clever and tempting, and worldly and, oh, altogether too much!
She bade farewell to that vision of a glittering ballroom and all those nobles who’d wanted her to dance with them. She was going home, to her dear aunt and uncle, to Mildred and Mr Crimmer. Back to the world of pantomimes at Covent Garden, and dinners in the homes of businessmen, and balls where she would dance with the sons of aldermen and merchants.
And when she went home to Much Wakering she would at least do so with a clear conscience.
Lord Deben remained silent with that expression of displeasure on his face all the way back to Bloomsbury. But when she alighted outside her aunt’s house, to her surprise he tossed the reins to his tiger, sprang down and caught up with her before she’d set foot on the first step.
‘Miss Gibson,’ he said sharply.
She sighed. What now?
‘You are such a simpleton,’ he said, glancing down the street as though he was already itching to be away. ‘You don’t know what you are saying, to turn down my offer of assistance. And though you have made me very angry, I cannot leave things between us like this.’ He wouldn’t mind making her pay for her rudeness to him by leaving her to the mercy of the gossipmongers. But he did not want her to come to complete shipwreck. She was so naïve, and … and green, believing in goodness and decency, and telling the truth and shaming the devil.
He seized her hand and looked directly into her eyes, his expression, for once, neither mocking nor dismissive, but earnest.
‘You came rushing to my help, that night on Miss Twining’s terrace, even though I did not need it. I find,’ he said with a perplexed frown, ‘that I cannot turn my back on such a foolhardy, gallant gesture.’
More than half of his anger with her, he had realised during the drive back to Bloomsbury, was due to the fact she did not appreciate how rare it was for him to want to put himself out for anyone. The rest, well …
‘I think,’ he said, ‘that in some ways we are very much alike. You have a good deal of pride. It is why you hid behind the plant pots to cry, rather than go running to your aunt. Why you spurn the offer of help from me, a man you hardly know, rather than admitting you stand in need of it.’
He was doing it again. Assuming he knew all about her.
And the most annoying thing of all was the fact that he was pretty near the mark.
‘Do not be too proud,’ he said with an infuriatingly sympathetic smile, ‘to turn to me should you ever really need it.’
‘Oh, I’m sure I shan’t.’
‘Yes, but if you should, I will be there. Remember that.’
‘Well, then, thank you, my lord.’ She pulled her hand from his and nodded to him, setting her ostrich feathers quivering wildly.
‘And good day.’
She turned and pounded up the steps to the front door as though the devil himself was after her.
That was clearly what she thought. He frowned. It was perhaps better for her to stay away from a man like him. They came from different worlds.
If she stepped into his, she would soon lose that delightful innocence, that childlike belief in good and evil.
His face set in harsh lines, he mounted up behind his team and set his curricle in motion. The best way for him to protect her probably would be to stay well away from her.
Upon reflection, he supposed he should not have taken her out in public and exposed her to speculation today.
Damn it all, but now he’d set the ball rolling, there was nothing he could do to call off the hounds that would surely pursue her for their sport.
He had told her he would keep away from her and he would do so. But that did not mean he could not exert his influence discreetly. There were plenty of ways he could ensure she was protected, now he came to think of it, which would not involve direct contact.
His lips lifted into a smile of utter devilment, as he began to draw up his plans. How long would it be before she began to detect his hand, gently pulling the strings behind the scenes, and came to him to express her gratitude?
He chuckled at the unlikelihood of her ever doing anything so tame. Knowing her, it would be far more likely she would come marching up to him, ostrich feathers bobbing in indignation, to demand that he leave her alone.
Either way, he would have made her come to him the next time. And for some reason he didn’t care to examine too closely, that was what mattered the most.
It was two weeks before she saw him again.
She had been some twenty minutes in the house of Lord Danbury, where she’d been invited, much to her surprise, by his daughter Lady Susan Pettiffer. Her party had spent most of that time removing their coats and changing their shoes
