A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,72
our excursion to the Home for Wayward Children. Madame Sybila and I have put together quite a group.” Mother’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Harry looked to Rachel. “I understand you’re going too?”
“I am. Someone has to play the skeptic.”
Their mother sent her a sharp glare. “No, they don’t. If you’re just going to be critical, you don’t need to come.”
“I won’t criticize,” Rachel said. “I promise.” She sent a wink toward their father who hid a smile then looked at Harry as if to say, “See, your sister’s being helpful.”
“Everyone listen to me.” Mother’s voice rose above the room in the stern way that never failed to make her children stop whatever misbehavior they were about. “I enjoy Madame Sybila’s company very much, and if I choose to spend my pin money on visiting her, I will do so. She actually helped me find my emerald necklace, which I’d misplaced for a few days after our soiree. Furthermore, she is supporting an excellent cause, which, after I see it for myself, I am inclined to also support rather strenuously.” She looked around at everyone assembled, her gaze settling on her husband, daring him to speak.
His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
Imogen looked up at their mother from the settee where she sat with her husband. “Will Lady Gresham be joining us?” She darted a look toward Harry, which told him they’d continued their matchmaking efforts—at least among themselves.
“Unfortunately not. She is otherwise engaged.”
“Pity,” Rachel said. “We shall have to find another event to invite her to. We do like her, Harry.”
“Mrs. Mapleton-Lowther told Mother she saw you at a perfumery. Were you perchance buying something for a lady?” Imogen waggled her brows at him.
Harry looked from Imogen to Rachel to his mother and then at all three of them. “Please just stop. All of you, stop. Lady Gresham is a lovely woman, but neither of us is interested in a match. That’s the end of it. If you persist in trying to force us together, I’ll stop coming to dinner for the rest of the Season.”
“Promise?” Jeremy quipped.
“As if you’re here every week,” Rachel said sardonically. “Our apologies, Harry. We thought there might be something between you and Lady Gresham. Honestly, she seems the perfect match for you—she’s mature, intelligent, and she doesn’t shy away from us at all.”
Add that to all the other ways in which they fit together, and it did seem she was…perfect. Harry finished his brandy, and Tallent thankfully arrived to announce dinner.
As they moved toward the dining room, Harry and Jeremy lagged behind once more. Jeremy set his empty glass down and moved to Harry’s side. “Lady Gresham, eh?”
Harry glowered at him. “Don’t.”
“Your secret is as safe with me as mine is with you. Shall we go in to dinner?”
After dinner, Harry drank port with his father and brother, then took the opportunity of Jeremy’s departure to leave himself. He stole into the small garden behind Selina’s house and crouched behind a shrubbery as he peered into the sitting room.
Selina sat in a chair, while her sister reclined on the settee reading a book. He moved closer and saw that Selina also had a book open on her lap. She looked so lovely, her profile illuminated by a candle flickering on the table beside her chair.
Harry waited until Miss Whitford stood up from the settee and left the sitting room. Before he could toss a pebble, however, Selina rose and left the room. He frowned as he waited for her to return.
The sound of the exterior door opening startled him.
“I know you’re out there, Harry.”
Standing, he took a few steps toward the door, where she stood just outside. “How? I hadn’t yet tossed the pebble.”
“I was expecting you, so I was looking. I must say, for a Bow Street Runner, you’re not very discreet.”
He laughed. “I usually am. However, you’ve quite upended my typical skills.”
She sauntered toward him, her eyes narrowing slightly in a thoroughly provocative manner. “Have I? Your…skills seemed quite adept last night. But perhaps I should reconsider my invitation.” She stopped in front of him and slid her palms up his chest to curl her hands around his neck.
He kissed her, reveling in the soft, delicious touch of her lips against his. “I’d be happy to exhibit any of my abilities—for your consideration.” He angled his mouth over hers and pulled her flush against him as he clasped her waist.
“I think that would be best. For the basis of