core when she told him why she had gone to a squalid lodging house at dead of night.
‘I believe you will do me the courtesy of keeping this episode to yourself, sir.’ Her edict emerged rather more forcefully than she’d intended.
A dangerous spark lit his night-blue eyes. She imagined nobody told him what to do. Worryingly, he looked as though he’d shaken off his weariness and was paying great attention.
‘And I believe you will do me the courtesy of telling me why I should,’ came his drawled response.
She swung to face him. ‘Common decency springs to mind, Mr Harley.’
‘Common decency appeared to be sadly lacking in your behaviour earlier, Miss Waverley. What were you doing in that dive?’
‘I might ask you the same thing,’ she shot back. ‘I’m sorry...that was very impertinent. It’s none of my concern why you were in a neighbourhood populated by low life.’
His mouth twitched at that backhander. ‘I wasn’t in that neighbourhood. I happened to pass close by when I heard you scream and drove into it. Do you go there regularly?’
She sent him a fiery-eyed look. If he believed her to be a harlot who’d got out of her depth, then let him say as much.
‘Are you going to answer me?’
‘I’ll tell you this, sir, and no more. I was not in the neighbourhood on business, but to meet somebody.’
‘I believe it amounts to the same thing, my dear.’
‘A relative,’ she snapped, hating him for his lazy sarcasm.
‘Distasteful...but not unheard of, so I understand,’ he returned in the same mordant tone.
‘My brother,’ she burst out. Horrified at what she’d divulged, she pivoted away from him, blood draining from her cheeks. She had allowed him to goad her and fallen into his trap.
‘Your brother?’ he repeated after a brief silence.
She said nothing and inspected the dust on the tabletop with her fingertips while her mind whirred and she tried to think of a way to distract him until she could show him out, hopefully to then forget all about what she’d just let slip.
‘I won’t pretend complete ignorance of your family’s misfortune, Miss Waverley. Surely your brother is dead and has been for quite a time.’ His voice sounded clipped, unemotional. He’d just recalled more of the family’s misfortune when she’d mentioned her brother. Waverley Junior had duelled over a woman, then fled abroad after killing his adversary. It was the sort of misfortune that would have drawn sympathy from peers who accepted that there but for the grace of God went they. Lance had himself participated in more than half a dozen such dawn meetings; thankfully, none had ended in a fatality.
‘I never discuss our family’s private affairs, Mr Harley. I’m sure you understand. Thank you for all the assistance you gave to me, but I must insist you leave. My father is waiting for me.’
‘I wouldn’t want to outstay my welcome,’ he said drily. ‘May I call another time to speak to you?’ He came closer as though to prompt her agreement.
‘Why?’ Emma’s gaze raked his face and she instinctively took a pace backwards. She wasn’t happy to continue this conversation now or in the future. ‘I’m sorry if I sound ungrateful, but I see no reason for us to renew our acquaintance.’
She had eyes in her head and could tell that they were poles apart. He had plenty of money, whereas her father had none. And Mr Harley would know that, simply from having entered a house that was in a state of disrepair. She’d never before felt ashamed of the faded wallpaper and threadbare armchairs, but now she did. Even without those clues he had made it plain he remembered the scandal that had decimated their family. Emma and her father had remained in their home courtesy of others’ financial support. Those people had dwindled and now only one remained. The very one that Emma had hoped would be first to abandon them. She knew that if she continued to refuse Joshua Gresham’s terms, they would have no option but to pack up and leave this house.
The Earl propped a hand on the mantelshelf, a polished top boot on the battered fender. Emma found her eyes drawn to his crusted knuckles. He had been injured on her behalf. Now that she was closer to him she could glimpse the graze on his unshaven jaw, too, slivers of raw flesh beneath dense stubble. He seemed unaffected by the wounds got from defending her. Perhaps he was used to participating in brawls in seedy parts of London in the early hours. As she slipped another glance up at his concave cheek and thin, almost cruel, lips, she could believe that to be true. And now they were again just inches apart, with no breeze between them, she could sense the warmth of his body and the scent of dissolute living. It reminded her of her twin brother: a sweet reek of alcohol, overlaid with tobacco smoke and a woman’s perfume. Robin had been drinking whisky when she’d been with him about an hour ago, yet he hadn’t held so strong a whiff of liquor. She hadn’t asked her brother why he smelled of violets. She knew. Robin had been keeping company with the petticoat set from his late teens. He had been a reprobate the whole of his adult life, but she sensed this man’s habits could be worse than her twin’s. She blushed and stepped away as he turned his head and caught her studying him.
He smiled. ‘Do I disturb you, Miss Waverley?’
‘Not at all,’ she retorted, although her colour had heightened.
‘You disturb me.’
‘What?’ Emma said under her breath.
‘I want to know why you were out risking all manner of peril when, as your father rightly said, you should have been in bed.’
Emma felt a sting of heat in her cheeks. His eyes had taken on a rather sultry gleam when he’d said that.
‘I have not quizzed you over your nocturnal habits, sir; please accord me a similar courtesy.’
He smiled. ‘Well, let me volunteer some information, then, in the hope you’ll do likewise. I was visiting a friend.’
‘As was I.’ She boldly met the dare in his vivid eyes.
‘His name?’
‘Is none of your concern. Her name?’ Emma challenged, wondering why when she was tired, emotional and way out of her depth, she was engaging in this game with him. She’d wanted this stranger gone just moments ago, and now...he didn’t seem a stranger.
‘I forget...’ he said and smiled because it was almost the truth. The only woman on his mind now was the one he was with. Miss Emma Waverley had captured his attention and sobered him up faster than a dousing with a bucket of water.
Emma had guessed he’d been with a lady friend so wasn’t sure why hearing his half-admission niggled at her. She heard her father’s study door slam shut and it brought her to her senses. The last thing she wanted was her papa returning here to drag her away for a scolding. Briskly, she stationed herself by the parlour door as though in readiness to close it after him. ‘You brought me home safely and I’m grateful. But now I must say good day to you, sir.’
He pushed himself off the oak mantel and gave her a sardonic bow before strolling into the hall. She heard him shut the street door quietly and stood with her heart racing beneath her bodice, unsure why she was regretful
