like to play chess with me?”
He glanced in the direction she waved, and it was then he noted the small table and the two well-padded chairs perfectly positioned by the fireplace. “You are a powerful distraction,” he murmured.
Nicolas had never entered a room and not assessed every detail, calculating the threats and advantages he must be aware of. But tonight…he had only seen her.
It was Maryann who was bloody dangerous.
Chapter Eighteen
Shortly after nine o’clock a few evenings later, Maryann stood before a particular town house on Grosvenor Square. If anyone should pass by while she went about the business of breaking into this town house, she presented as a fashionably attired woman dressed in a fully black serviceable gown and a hat with a dark veil obscuring her face. A rapier was clutched in one hand but obscured by a black cloak, and a basket rested by her feet. Her friends, when they heard of tonight’s unprecedented escapade, would be green with envy at her daring.
Maryann exhaled triumphantly as the lock beneath her coaxing thumb gave way and the door opened with a snick. She hovered on the threshold at the Marquess of Rothbury’s home, her heart pounding terribly. She had expected to encounter the butler, or a footman at least, and already had her words prepared. But the hallway was empty, with only a few wall sconces lit.
She padded down the hallway with her basket and rapier clutched in her hand to a light which spilled from a slightly ajar door. Once there, she saw that the room was a large library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves of dark oak.
A fire roared in the hearth, and the gas lamps were lit, leaving the place pleasantly warm. Her gaze sought out the marquess.
He was sprawled in a high wing-back chair by the fire, his legs stretched out before him, his mien inscrutable. Maryann wondered that even in the privacy of his home, he hid the expressions of his musings so no one could fathom his plots and scheming. Unwatched by the masses, he was unguarded, his mien remote, a man who was inherently alone.
The fire flickered, and with it also came a shift in his expression. It was infinitesimal but Maryann saw it, a grimace of pain as if he were ravaged by some private agony.
She hovered in the doorway, staring at him as he tossed back his drink, gazing into the flickering flames. Her antics, which had been meant to impress him, now felt silly. She wanted to give him what she had gathered in the basket, but now it seemed as if she intruded on something private and haunting, something she should not be a part of. Regret coated the back of her throat and she carefully stepped away.
“You’ve come this far—surely you are not leaving.”
Maryann blinked in uneasy surprise and then went utterly still. “I…” She closed her mouth over the rambling mess that would have bound to come out.
At her lack of response, he stood, lifted the glass to his mouth and finished his drink in a long swallow. He set it on the mantel over the fireplace, then shifted to meet her gaze.
How had he known she was there?
“I smelled you,” he replied as if she had spoken. “Sweet and sultry.”
Her face flamed.
“How did you get here?”
She hated the feeling that had suddenly come over her, a deep sense of uncertainty. “I walked.”
He flinched, then seemed to catch the reaction. “How unconventional of you. So, my intrepid Lady Maryann does not fear footpads and undesirables.”
“In Grosvenor Square?”
His expression grew even more unfathomable and nerves fluttered in her belly. She lifted the silver-handled cane which hid her rapier. “It was more sensible than an elaborate ruse to go out in the carriage alone, and I walked armed. Plus, I know you have someone watching me.”
He did not deny it, but something flared in his eyes before it was quickly replaced by a shuttered mien. Maryann’s awareness of Nicolas prickled against her skin like fire. He radiated such palpable sensuality with a hint of menace that it made her uncomfortable.
“Why did you come here tonight?”
“For many reasons, which seem silly now.”
“Tell me,” he invited smoothly, pouring amber liquid into two glasses.
“I wanted to thank you. Stamford visited my parents and, to their great shock, he withdrew his offer. My heart is relieved.”
“You could have sent a note.”
She flushed. “Do you wish me to leave?”
A tense silence blanketed the room.
“No.”
“Then why are you berating me?”
“My heart cannot bear the thought