A Rogue to the Rescue (The Rogue Chronicles #4) - Lana Williams Page 0,60
was a time when her life seemed too good to believe, something her practical side insisted couldn’t be real. “I suppose part of me is waiting for my good fortune of late to take a turn for the worse.”
“Beatrice.” He glanced about before meeting her eyes once again. “I wish we were alone so I could show you how much I look forward to our marriage.”
Her heart turned over at the heat in his eyes. “I eagerly await it as well.”
“Excellent. Then we’re in agreement.” He took her arm and continued along the path. “In truth, marrying you is the only thing I am certain of at the moment.”
“How do you mean?”
He shook his head. “It has nothing to do with you or our forthcoming marriage.”
“Then what?”
“Hurdy paid a call yesterday.”
She halted abruptly. “And?”
“He’s not pleased that someone caused trouble at the brothel.”
“How did he even hear about it?” she asked as they continued forward.
“Perhaps he has someone watching the place who reported it, though I didn’t see anyone. The odd thing was that he mentioned everything except the fact that Mary escaped.”
“That is odd.”
“Though I suppose if Hurdy learned of everything that happened from someone in the brothel, they wouldn’t share that a woman, held against her will, escaped.”
“True,” she agreed. His comment made her wonder what else he had done that evening.
“The situation is beyond frustrating. I confess that the fact that Finch hasn’t been arrested makes me feel as if my efforts have failed.” He shook his head, his lips twisted with displeasure.
“Never.” She paused again in the middle of the garden path, her entire body stiff with outrage though she kept her voice low. “You have done more than the Runner to deal with Finch. I never imagined you’d do all you have, especially freeing Mary. What have the authorities done? Nothing.”
A smile slowly quirked his lips. “Thank you. Your belief in me helps considerably.”
“Who does Hurdy think he is, questioning you?” Indignation had her babbling, but she couldn’t help it. “He’s lucky you are involved.”
“I don’t think he sees it that way.” Daniel’s amusement at her vehemence was obvious.
“What has he done other than watch the terrible things that go on?” Her gloved hands balled into fists. “At least you took action. Mary would still be there without your interference.”
He touched her hand briefly as if to soothe her. “Your words are the balm I needed. It’s nice to think you believe I made a difference.”
“I know you have.” She made an effort to calm herself, not wanting to draw attention from the other guests. “You need only look at me to know that.”
“As a matter of fact, I like looking at you.” His gaze swept over her, sending awareness prickling along her skin. “Each time I see you, I’m reminded of how blessed I am.” Then that heated gaze held on her lips.
“Daniel.” She glanced about as warmth rushed up her cheeks. She hoped no one heard their discussion or witnessed the way he looked at her—as if he wanted to kiss her.
“I’ve been so distracted that I failed to mention how lovely you look this afternoon.”
“Thank you.” She truly hoped he thought that. She wanted to be enough for him. To make him happy. She wanted to be deserving of this honorable, courageous man. To match his efforts to do something for others, regardless of the risk to himself.
She had an idea but would need assistance to execute it. That fact had her hesitating to mention it. He’d already done so much to help her.
Before she could decide whether to raise the topic, another couple approached them on the path. Beatrice recognized Viscount Chivington, who’d spoken at length of his travels at the dinner party.
“Chivington. Miss Penworthy.” Daniel dipped his head as Beatrice curtsied. “I hope the day finds you both well. May I introduce my companion?”
“I had the pleasure of making her acquaintance several days ago.” The viscount’s warm smile took Beatrice by surprise. “Good to see you, Miss Linfield.”
“And you as well, my lord.”
Chivington introduced the lady at his side, an attractive woman who fluttered her lashes as she smiled at Daniel.
“Isn’t the garden amazing?” Miss Penworthy asked.
Beatrice nodded politely as the lady continued speaking, but her attention remained on Daniel when the viscount stepped closer to him.
“Did you hear that Remington’s sporting two black eyes?” The viscount chuckled quietly, seemingly unaware that Beatrice was listening. He leaned close, his voice barely a whisper. “He says he was attacked by footpads