Pinning a brilliant smile on her face, Diana crossed towards them.
When Grant saw her he stiffened and stood absolutely still, aware and wary. His face was blank, all emotion withheld by an iron control, and then, conscious that Adeline was by his side, watching him, with a lazy, sardonic smile he stepped forward and lifted Diana’s hand to his lips for a brief kiss.
Diana looked up at him with a questioning frown. ‘Why, Grant. I did not think I would have to come looking for you. You cannot have forgotten our appointment.’
‘Diana! I apologise. No, I did not forget. I had an unexpected matter of considerable importance to take care of.’
Diana gave Adeline no more than a brief glance—as if she were of no consequence—before settling her gaze once more on Grant. ‘Yes, so I see.’ Immediately her attention flew back to Adeline and she gasped. ‘Why—goodness me! If it isn’t Miss Adeline Osborne! How nice to see you again,’ she said, the tone of her voice and the cold look in her eyes belying her words. ‘I do apologise. I hardly recognised you. How changed you look.’ She was angry. This was not what she had planned. Not at all. Expelling her breath in a rush of frustrated impatience, she looked up at Grant with a questioning frown.
‘Your apology is unnecessary,’ Adeline said. ‘In fact it is I who should apologise to you for keeping Grant so long.’
‘Really?’ Diana smiled as her gaze passed over Adeline. It was not a pleasant smile, it was a malicious smile, and instinctively, with the feminine intuition that recognises what is in another woman’s mind, Adeline knew that Diana considered Grant her property, and was telling Adeline to keep off.
‘Grant and I were—’
‘Stop it, Adeline,’ Grant was quick to retort. ‘There’s absolutely no need to explain to Diana.’
‘Well, since I have just observed the two of you coming out of the lift, I can only assume that Grant has been entertaining you in his room.’ When she looked at Adeline her feelings were transparent—the emotions of jealousy and dislike were hard to mask when they lay so near the surface. ‘I am sure it is none of my business, but perhaps it’s not something you should choose to bandy about in public.’
Adeline took exception to the slur. Diana’s tone, lightly contemptuous and at the same time more than a little suspicious, made Adeline’s hackles rise. However, although she was still seething inside from Diana’s machinations at Westwood Hall, she faced her with well-feigned assurance.
‘You’re right, Diana, it is none of your affair. So kindly watch your tongue,’ Grant admonished sharply. ‘Now you are here we will have luncheon. Adeline is just leaving. I will see her out to her carriage and then I’ll be with you.’
At that moment the concierge approached Grant and drew him aside to speak to him on a trivial matter, but it meant he left Adeline alone with Diana.
‘Well, I certainly didn’t expect to see you at the Charing Cross Hotel, Adeline.’
Absently Adeline noted that rubies like droplets of blood dripped from Diana’s ears and neck. Adeline’s flesh turned to ice when she met her stare. That Diana Waverley hated her was plain.
‘I came to see Grant on a family matter. Make of that what you will, Diana. I have apologised for keeping him from his appointment with you, but it really was important and could not wait.’
‘So was his appointment with me. Still, it’s not too late. We can take care of our business just as well here as at my house. Unlike you, I ceased to consider my reputation a long time ago. I have known Grant for a long time, and I know him about as well as any woman can.’
Adeline met her eyes. ‘Then we are not so very different. I may not have known him as long as you have, but I have known him just as well.’ Her smile was meaningful, and they both knew she was referring to the night Diana had tied the scarlet ribbon to her door.
White-lipped, Diana glared at her, knowing she had been caught out. She was reminded that instead of acting like the prim and proper miss she had assumed Adeline Osborne to be, and alerting the whole household to the embarrassing fact that Grant had entered her bedchamber uninvited, she had quietly taken full advantage of the situation—and enjoyed every minute of it, too, no doubt.
Adeline added coolly. ‘How is Paul, by the way? I believe you know him just about as well as any woman can, too. You know, Diana, I have much to be grateful to you for. I am well rid of him. You may have missed your chance for snaring Grant, but I am sure you will find Paul amenable. I wish you well of each other. Good day. Please tell Grant I can find my own way out.’
Diana felt her cheeks grow hot with the sting of defeat. The reality of what Adeline had said hit her with all the force of a hammer-blow. Her dream of Grant asking her to be his wife had faded to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She watched Adeline’s trim figure leave the hotel. How that little bitch must be laughing at her fate.
After Adeline had left Diana with Grant at the hotel her imagination ran riot. Her emotions were so confused that she felt they were choking her—protests, recriminations, accusations, all were tumbling about in her mind. They were to have luncheon, Grant had said—where, she wondered? In the hotel restaurant or in Grant’s room? An image of the bed she had seen—big and comfortable, a veritable erotic pleasure ground for lovers—entered her mind. Thinking of them in it, and what they would do, made her blood run cold. The shock of it all triggered off some sleeping thing inside her, bringing to life and revealing to her the true state of her heart.
So much for Grant’s declaration that he never gave second chances, and that what there had been between him and Diana was over, for it was as plain as the nose on her face that he was undoubtedly sharing the favours of that woman with Paul. Perhaps Grant found such a situation entertaining—a bit of fun with no hearts broken—but what he was doing was highly immoral in her opinion. He was just like everyone else—enjoying his little dalliances and flirtations—but she would not be one of them.
However, because she had approached him about Lettie it was inevitable they would meet again. Whatever happened, she vowed she would never again lose her composure as she had in the past, when he had confused her to such a degree that she scarcely knew right from wrong. From this moment on things would be different. She would be completely imperturbable and polite. She was no longer the innocent young girl he could hurt and seduce for his own amusement.
Adeline spent the rest of the day at home, glad to have some time to herself. The London house was large and imposing, and reflected her father’s taste to as great a degree as Rosehill did.
The following morning she was debating on whether to go to Stanfield House, in the hope of seeing Lettie, or take a quiet stroll in the park, when Anthony Stanfield arrived to take her up on her offer of a fencing bout. At first Adeline stared at him in confusion, and then recalled she had indeed invited him over.
‘I’ll go away if it’s inconvenient, or you’re not up to it,’ Anthony offered, his expression telling her that he hoped she was.
Adeline laughed and led him to the salon, glad of any respite from the quiet atmosphere of the house. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. Fencing is just what I need right now, to draw me out of the doldrums. I’ll show you where the rapiers are kept and then I’ll go and change.’
Shortly before eleven o’clock, Grant arrived at the house to see Adeline. When Mrs Kelsall opened the door and he asked to see Miss Osborne, the housekeeper raised her brows in astonishment. Few visitors came to Eaton Place when Mr Leighton was not in town, and suddenly two gentlemen had turned up within the same hour to see Miss Adeline. She didn’t approve of young gentlemen calling uninvited when she was alone, but since Miss Adeline had come to London there had been a change in her, an open confidence and self-assurance Mrs Kelsall had never seen before.
‘Is Miss Osborne at home?’ Grant enquired.
‘She is, sir, in the salon—fencing.’ Though Mrs Kelsall was fond of Miss Adeline, she never ceased to voice her disapproval of young ladies indulging in gentlemanly activities, and for them to wear trousers—which Miss Adeline insisted on doing—was quite shocking and unthinkable.
‘Then if you will be so kind as to direct me, I will introduce myself.’
Grant opened the door to the salon, where the carpet had been rolled back. He entered quietly, unnoticed by the pair of duellists, their identities hidden by facial masks. One was evidently female. Her lithesome figure was clad in revealing dove-grey trousers and a white silk shirt, and she was fighting with the skill and address of an experienced duellist, moving with an extraordinary grace, as if movement were a pleasure to her. The other, a young gentleman, was not so skilled.
Propping his shoulder against the wall, Grant watched with interest as they parried and thrust, moving ceaselessly about the highly polished parquet floor.
After Adeline had left the hotel yesterday, Grant had sat through luncheon paying no more attention to Diana across from him than he had to the business proposition she had put to him. This had been completely out of character, for he always gave matters of business his whole attention, considering them with unfailing instinct and dispassionate logic and calculating the odds for success before he acted. The only rash act he’d performed in recent years was his behaviour with Adeline at Westwood Hall, and when she’d left the hotel he had set his mind to seeing her again just as soon as he could manage it.
Folding his arms, with a slight smile on his lips, his unswerving gaze now watched her every move, feasting on the graceful lines of her slim hips and incredibly long legs, her whole form outlined with anatomical precision. Adeline was, Grant realised, a brilliant swordswoman, with faultless timing and stunningly executed moves. There was an aura of confidence and daring about her that drew all his attention.
Still unaware of his presence, Adeline suddenly cried enough and whipped off her mask to reveal her laughing, shining face. ‘Very good, Anthony. You’re improving tremendously. We’ll fence some more tomorrow, if you like.’
She was breathless and her cheeks were flushed, her eyes a brilliant dancing green. Her abundance of hair was tied loosely on top of her head, with riotous locks tumbling about all over the place. To Grant at that moment she looked like a bandit princess, vibrant with health and life. His eyes soaked up the sight of her, for which he was more thirsty than water by far.
Anthony was the first to become aware of Grant’s presence. His face broke into a welcoming smile as he recognised Lettie’s brother. Taking off his breastplate and wiping his damp forehead with his sleeve, he crossed the room towards him and shook his hand. ‘Mr Leighton. I didn’t realise we had company. It’s good to see you.’
‘I was enjoying watching you. I didn’t want to interrupt such fine swordplay.’
‘As you will have seen,’ he said, turning towards his attractive partner, his adoring gaze and unselfconscious absorption not going unnoticed by Grant, ‘Adeline is more than a match. She has much to teach me.’
Across the room, on hearing Grant’s voice, Adeline spun round, her heart giving a sudden lurch. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were there.’
He smiled. ‘I’m glad. You are an excellent swordswoman, Adeline. Had you been aware of my presence you would perhaps not have performed so well.’
Her sudden smile had a warmth to contend with the glowing sun slanting through the windows. ‘You are mistaken. I fence the same regardless of whether I have an audience or not. What has brought you to Eaton Place?’
‘I have a matter of some importance to discuss with you. I didn’t think you’d mind me arriving uninvited.’
‘I’ll leave you, Adeline,’ Anthony said, shrugging himself into his jacket. ‘I have to get back.’
‘That’s all right, Anthony. I’m glad you came for a practice bout. If Lettie’s at home, tell her I’ll be along later.’
When she was alone with Grant, she looked at him askance. ‘Why do you smile?’
‘That young man’s in love with you—or if he isn’t now he very soon will be.’
Adeline gasped and laughed awkwardly, embarrassed that such a thing could happen. ‘Really, Grant, your imagination runs away with you. Anthony and I are friends—good friends—and nothing more, so please don’t read more into our fencing bouts than there is.’
His eyes crinkled with amusement. ‘There is none so blind as will not see, Adeline. Time will tell.’
‘You are being ridiculous. He’s only a young man.’
‘Exactly! He’s a man—and you, Miss Osborne, are an attractive young woman. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.’
Adeline suddenly became embarrassingly self-conscious of the way she was dressed. ‘If you don’t mind I’ll just go and change. I’ll have Mrs Kelsall prepare refreshments and then we can talk.’
‘Not so fast.’ Grant quickly divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, rolling back his shirtsleeves over powerful forearms. Removing his cravat and shirt stud to allow more freedom, he began fastening himself into the breastplate discarded by Anthony. ‘I have a desire to test your fencing skills for myself. That’s if you’re up to it?’
‘I’m tougher than I look.’
‘So am I.’
He was looking at her with just a gleam of mischief at the back of his impassive handsome face. ‘So you court danger, do you, Mr Leighton?’
‘All the time, Miss Osborne.’
‘Do you fence often?’ she asked, curious as to how skilled an adversary he would make.
Grant was already crossing the room to help himself to one of the many fine weapons on display in a glass-fronted cabinet. ‘Not as often as I would like.’
‘In which case I imagine you’ll be a bit rusty,’ she taunted, with an innocent smile curving her lips.
His grin was roguish and the gleam in his eyes more so as his hand closed over the hilt of a weapon with a strong, slender blade. ‘Imagine anything you like, Miss Osborne,’ he retorted, flexing the supple blade between his hands before swishing the air in a practised arc, ‘but my infrequency at practice does not mean that I shall be complacent or clumsy, or in need of lessons in self-defence.’
‘Maybe not, but I don’t think this will take long.’
‘Planning to thrash me, are you?’ he drawled, one brow arrogantly raised.
‘Soundly,’ Adeline told him.
Donning a face mask, he advanced towards her. ‘As a matter of interest can you see properly? Without your spectacles, I mean,’ he goaded.
‘My vision is only impaired when I try to read. Otherwise I can see perfectly well.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. But don’t ever complain that I didn’t warn you,’ he said with tolerant amusement. ‘Replace your mask and prepare to defend yourself, Miss Osborne, or I swear I’ll pin you to the wall.’
The challenge to participate in a sport that was as enjoyable to her as riding a horse was much too tempting for Adeline to resist. With a vivacious laugh she replaced her mask and picked up her rapier. In one swift movement she was in the centre of the room, and Grant found himself engaged. Hidden from his view, a feverish flush was on her cheeks and a wild, determined light in her eyes. She moved skilfully, confident she could best him, but careful not to underestimate his ability.
Grant was an excellent sportsman, and accounted an excellent blade, but he soon realised he had his work cut out as his slender, darting opponent left no opening in her unwavering guard. The bright blade seemed to be everywhere at once, multiplied a hundred times by Adeline’s supple wrists.
After the initial thrusts Adeline accepted that beating Grant was not going to be easy. He fought with skill, continually circling his opponent, changing his guard a dozen times, but Adeline never failed to parry adroitly in her own defence.
Grant could imagine the face behind the mask—the excitement of the fight would have put colour into her cheeks, a gleam in her eyes and a rosiness on her full lips. The image sent desire surging through him as foils rang together, meeting faster and faster as he forced her to a killing pace. Sweat now soaked her fine silk shirt so that it clung alluringly to her body, outlining the tender swell of her breasts.
Adeline was beginning to weaken, finding herself held at bay by a superior strength. Grant knew this, and with a low chuckle doubled his agility. With a triumphant cry and a snakelike movement he slipped under her blade and decisively thrust home.
Accepting that she was beaten, fair and square, Adeline whipped her mask from her laughing face. ‘So, Mr Leighton, you have made good your threat. No doubt you regret wasting your time on such a weak opponent?’
‘Nonsense. You were already considerably weakened by your earlier bout with Anthony,’ Grant remarked, removing his mask, thinking how truly adorable she looked in complete disarray.
‘You are too kind. There are no excuses for my defeat. I was beaten by a superior strength. I accept that.’
‘A master?’ he pressed, with a broad, arrogant smile.
‘You conceited beast. I refuse to flatter your vanity further.’
Grant’s grin was wicked. ‘And you are magnanimous in defeat. I look forward to repeating the exercise.’
‘Next time you won’t be so lucky,’ she quipped, with a jaunty impudence Grant found utterly exhilarating.
‘I’m looking forward to it already. Who taught you to fence?’
‘Uncle Max—my mother’s brother. He was a military man and fought in the Crimean War. Sadly he died last year.’ She placed the rapiers in the cabinet and turned back to him, feeling extremely self-conscious in her trousers. ‘I must look a sight. I’ll go and change.’
Lifting his gaze from the feminine curves of her breasts, slowly Grant let his eyes seek hers, and Adeline basked in the unconcealed admiration lighting his face. His amusement had vanished. An aura of anticipation surrounded them. It was blatantly sensual and keenly felt by Adeline. It widened her eyes and lingered in the curve of her lips.
Grant’s own firm mouth curved in a sensuous smile. ‘Believe me, there’s nothing wrong with the way you look, Adeline,’ he murmured.
Her senses heightened by his closeness, Adeline flushed and smiled tremulously, thinking how incredibly handsome he looked with his hair dipping over his forehead. ‘Not to you, maybe, but I cannot possibly sit down to lunch like this. Mrs Kelsall has objections enough to what she considers to be my unladylike attire, and will refuse to feed us unless I change.’
He cocked a sleek black brow. ‘Us? Are you inviting me to luncheon, Adeline?’
With an effort, Adeline tore her gaze from Grant’s amused grey eyes and looked in the direction of the door. ‘Yes—that is, if you like. It’s almost lunchtime anyway, and I’m sure you must be hungry after your exertions.’
After showing him to the drawing room, Adeline escaped to her room to swill her burning face in cold water.
Mrs Kelsall had laid a light lunch for them in the dining room. They took their seats opposite each other.
‘Please help yourself,’ Adeline said, indicating the various cold dishes. ‘I must try not to over-indulge, since I am going on a picnic this afternoon.’
‘A picnic?’
‘Yes.’ She laughed. ‘I enjoy idling away my days in frivolous pursuits. It’s such a lovely day I thought Emma and I would go for a drive along the Embankment and go on to the gardens at Chelsea.’
They applied themselves to the food with unfeigned appreciation, and after commenting on the culinary delights they conversed little until the end of the meal.
Adeline, used to dining in silence with her father, did not babble on, as other women were wont to do, and Grant found this a pleasurable change. There was nothing awkward about the silence, which was comfortable and agreeable. However, he was of the opinion that while women prattled on, they weren’t thinking, and when he glanced across at Adeline’s serene countenance he was curious as to her thoughts.
Wearing a gown of ruby-coloured taffeta, unadorned and simple, with a well-fitted bodice, she had drawn her hair back from her face. Her almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones gave her a rich, vivid and almost oriental beauty.
When they had finished eating they retired to the drawing room, sitting across from each other in two large wing-backed chairs. Grant stared at Adeline’s profile as she turned her head slightly, tracing with his gaze the lines of her face, the brush of her thick eyelashes, the delicate hollow at the nape of her neck, where a stray strand of hair had come to rest, nestling against her pale skin like a dark red spiral.
‘Have you spoken to Lettie?’ Adeline asked, looking to where Grant was sitting silently watching her, holding her with his gaze.
He shook his head. ‘Unfortunately I haven’t had the opportunity. I called on Lord and Lady Stanfield before coming here, but Lettie was out at one of her meetings, somewhere in Kensington. And you?’
‘No. Maybe later. What is it you wanted to see me about?’
‘I’ve made enquiries about Jack Cunningham.’
‘Oh? Have you found out much about him?’
Grant nodded slowly, his expression grave. ‘It wasn’t difficult. He’s extremely well known, is Mr Cunningham—notorious, in fact—and steeped in vice. One thing I’ve learned is that he isn’t working for good causes—and you are right, he’s a dangerous individual. Apparently he isn’t one to meddle with, and no one crosses him twice.’ A grim smile twisted his lips. ‘I suppose if he is to succeed in the hard and dangerous trade he’s chosen then he needs to appear a man no one would dare cross.’
‘Where is he from?’
‘He was born in Whitechapel—one of nine children, father worked on the docks. He’s self-made, shrewd, aggressive, determined and unscrupulous, and he has power over a lot of people. He has friends—of a sort. Mostly there are those who hate him and those who are frightened of him—and those who are both. Women seem to like him, but he treats them badly. I suspect he wants Lettie because she stands for something he’s never had.’
‘And what is that?’
‘Class. He’s a powerful figure in the underworld, where he reigns over an empire of corruption and debauchery. Nothing is too scandalous to be tolerated. The Phoenix is a gambling and drinking den, and a house of assignation—prostitution. He derives handsome profits from its exploitation. In fact he’s made a lot of money out of his seedy nightclubs and brothels scattered all over the West End.’
There was a good deal more that Grant could have told Adeline about Jack Cunningham—his involvement in the sex-trafficking of both women and children he purchased through a network of agents to install in his brothels. Grant considered this widespread victimisation of children an abomination, but he would not embarrass or distress Adeline by divulging this part of Cunningham’s sordid empire.
‘After visiting the place, somehow it doesn’t surprise me to hear that.’ Adeline shuddered at the memory.
‘Cunningham never soils his own hands with violence. Others do it for him—he has plenty of henchmen. He carries people in his head and moves them about like chess pieces. He also lends money at high interest rates—expending very little risk since for his investment he is careful to command property of a much higher value or favours as security. He’s used to getting what he wants, and if anyone opposes him he shows no mercy.’
Adeline paled visibly, appalled by what she was hearing. ‘I can’t believe Lettie has got involved with somebody like that.’
Grant looked at her sharply. ‘How did she meet him? Do you know?’
‘Yes. It was at the Drury Lane Theatre—Diana Waverly introduced them.’
Grant stared at her, dumbfounded. For some reason this bothered him. ‘Diana knows Cunningham?’
‘Yes. As a matter of fact I believe she was at the Phoenix Club at the same time that I was there with Lettie. I saw a woman disappearing up a spiral staircase. I was too late to see her face, but she was wearing the same dress yesterday at the hotel.’ Adeline was looking at Grant steadily, trying to measure the emotion lying behind the façade. ‘You—didn’t know Diana was associated with Cunningham?’
‘No.’ Grant felt oddly betrayed that Diana had never spoken to him of Cunningham—but then she had no reason to. Until Adeline had brought him to his attention he had never heard of him.
‘Well, if she is that is her affair. But he sounds a thoroughly bad lot.’
‘He is, Adeline, believe me. Lettie may be independent and twenty-three, but she is still innocent, trusting and unworldly to a man of his calibre. I intend to do everything in my power to put an end to his association with my sister—preferably without coming into contact with Jack Cunningham.’
‘That’s sensible. If he’s as obnoxious as you say he is then it could only lead to trouble. Best to let Lettie finish it quietly—although I hope she doesn’t love him so much she will stand against you in defence of him. Is Lettie anything like your other sister who lives in Ireland?’ Adeline asked, suddenly curious about Grant’s other siblings.
‘Anna?’ His expression lightened and his lips curved in a smile. ‘No. Not at all. Anna is mild-mannered, unselfish, genuinely kind-hearted and willing to take on everyone’s troubles. Mother hasn’t seen Anna and her family for eighteen months—since she went over for a visit—and naturally she’s excited about them coming for Christmas and an extended stay.’
‘I’m sure she is. I seem to recall her saying that your brother is also coming home for Christmas?’
‘That’s right. He’s coming home on leave for a few weeks. All his life Roland has wanted to be a soldier. He loves India, and no doubt he will go back there to his regiment when his leave is up.’ Grant stood up. ‘I’ve kept you long enough. You’ll be wanting to go on your picnic. I’ll call at Upper Belgrave Street and see if Lettie has returned.’
Adeline went out into the hall with him, where they paused. ‘I do wish you every success with Lettie. Truly. I wish no harm to come to her at the hands of Jack Cunningham.’
Grant looked at her earnest, upturned face. He felt humbled by her generosity of spirit and her compassion for Lettie. Her full mouth was soft and provocative, her shining eyes mesmerising in their lack of guile, and her smooth cheekbones were flushed a becoming pink. Courageous, unpretentious and unaffected, she sparkled from within and shone on the surface. She was, he decided, the most interesting female he had ever met. She was also becoming embarrassed by his scrutiny. Her long ebony lashes had flickered down to hide her eyes.
Grant smiled, his grey eyes glinting with admiration. ‘Nor do I.’
‘I—enjoyed fencing with you,’ Adeline said, suddenly nervous, self-conscious, trying desperately to sound normal. ‘The exercise was good, and I can’t tell you how good it was to fence with such an expert as yourself. I rarely get the opportunity. I—don’t know how to thank you.’
His heavy-lidded gaze fixed meaningfully on her lips. ‘We’ll have to think of a way,’ he murmured softly.
At that moment Mrs Kelsall bustled into the hall, her face in subdued lines. ‘What is it, Mrs Kelsall? Has something happened?’
‘No, Miss Adeline. Your picnic basket is all prepared, but Emma isn’t feeling too well and doesn’t think she’s up to going out.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. She was complaining of a headache earlier. I’ll go to her.’ Adeline was clearly concerned about her maid. She turned to Grant and smiled weakly. ‘It looks as though my picnic will have to keep for another day.’
A sudden gleam entered his eyes. ‘It needn’t. Perhaps you would allow me to accompany you?’
Silver-grey eyes met hers, and she felt her cheeks warm. ‘Oh—I couldn’t possibly. I couldn’t impose on your time.’
His smile broadened into a grin. ‘It’s no imposition. I have a totally free day.’
‘But you don’t enjoy picnics.’
He arched one dark brow. ‘I don’t?’
‘Well—I wouldn’t have thought you were the type that did.’
‘I happen to love picnics.’
‘You do?’
‘Absolutely. Just make sure there’s a bottle of wine in the basket.’
‘I’ll go and put one in this minute.’ Mrs Kelsall was quick to oblige, happy that all the work she’d put into the basket wouldn’t be wasted after all.
‘You really don’t have to do this,’ Adeline said to Grant, protesting even while unable to quell the stirring of pleasure his offer aroused.
‘I want to. I promise I shall be a capable and attentive escort—and besides…’
‘Besides, what?’
‘It would be a shame to waste the food.’
‘But I thought you were going to see Lettie?’
‘I shall call on her later—there will be more chance of catching her then.’
Adeline searched his bold, swarthy visage, unsurprised by his nerve. ‘Your persistence amazes me. I shouldn’t be going anywhere with you on my own.’
He chuckled, smiling a wicked smile. ‘Why not? We might both enjoy the outing. I favour your company, Adeline, and I shall endeavour to be on my best behaviour and as charming as my nature will allow.’
Adeline looked at him with doubt. ‘We shall see. It should prove to be an interesting afternoon.’
‘It will be what we make it. Now, go and get ready.’
Seated across from Grant in the Osborne landau, with its grey upholstery and the hood down, Adeline experienced a strange exhilaration. She felt wonderfully, gloriously alive for the first time in years as she instructed the driver to take them to the Embankment. There was something undeniably engaging about her handsome escort. He made her feel alert and curiously stimulated.
‘You look exceptional, Adeline,’ he told her. ‘Radiant, in fact. I am honoured by this privilege.’
Adeline smoothed her dark green woollen skirt, knowing it became her extraordinarily well. She wore a fitted three-quarter-length matching coat and hat, which was adorned with small brown feathers. The ensemble combined rich, stylish flair and good taste.
‘I am often in London, and I really can’t name a sight that I haven’t seen. Is there anywhere else you would rather go than the Embankment?’ she asked Grant.
‘I am at your disposal entirely. The Embankment suits me perfectly well.’
On reaching the Embankment they left the landau, and with a slight breeze in their faces strolled along. The early autumn day was overcast, but it was warm. People strolled along, like themselves, and open carriages passed by, with women showing off the latest fashions. Street peddlers were selling various kinds of food, from drinks and pies to sweets, and further along a brass band competed with a hurdy-gurdy playing a popular dance tune.
The dancing silvered river was busy with shipping of every kind—ferries, lighter men and a string of barges—making their way steadily upstream, the movement keeping the waters constantly on the swell. There were sounds of laughter from the pleasure boats crowded with people enjoying themselves. A woman’s hat blew off into the river, causing much hilarity. Some waved to the people watching from the Embankment, and with laughter on her lips Adeline waved back.
Grant looked at her, thinking how adorable she was with her pink cheeks and shining eyes. She put him in mind of a child opening its presents at Christmas. ‘Enjoying yourself?’
‘I am. I love the Embankment, and today is just like London should be.’ She turned towards the river. ‘Can you smell it?’
‘Smell what?’
‘The salt on the incoming tide.’
Breathing deep, Grant could detect a tang in the air—the smell of salt and what he thought might be tar.
For a while they were both engrossed with the scene before them, then they walked back to the landau to continue on their way to Chelsea. Reaching their destination, they told the driver to return to Eaton Place. They would take a cab when it was time to return.
Carrying the picnic basket, and a rug over one arm, Grant gallantly presented his other arm to Adeline, at the same time catching her hand and pulling it through the crook of his elbow, not giving her a chance to deny him. Adeline was tempted to withdraw from his contact, but a small, naughty part of her knew she liked touching him. Very much.
The gardens overlooking the river were mostly for summer strolls and musical entertainments, and the quietness of the autumn day could not be denied. The wind was fresh, but reasonably warm, rustling the dying leaves in the trees and dappling the shade, and Adeline was content to let her escort lead her along the tree-lined lanes and past beds of the last of the summer’s flowers. As promised, Grant lent himself to a most gentlemanly comportment and treated her with polite consideration, making her feel as if she were the only woman in the world.
Finding a secluded spot beneath the giant trees, Adeline spread out the rug while Grant removed his jacket, opened the basket and poured the wine. Totally relaxed, they talked about little things—oddities of fact that made simple things interesting. They told stories and joked and laughed at each other, and all the while Adeline was aware of Grant’s appreciative gaze on her animated face. In all it proved to be a most enchanting afternoon, and Adeline experienced a twinge of regret that it would have to end.
Stretching out on his side, Grant leaned on a forearm and studied her profile from beneath hooded lids, wondering for the hundredth time what went on behind her placid exterior. ‘You are a strange young woman, Adeline,’ he murmured, focusing his eyes on a wisp of hair against her cheek.
Without thinking, he reached out and tucked it behind her ear, feeling the velvety softness of her skin against his fingers. She sat still as he ran the tip of his finger down the column of her throat, along the line of her chin to her collar and the cameo brooch at her throat.
‘Suddenly I find myself wanting to know everything there is to know about you—what you are thinking, what you are feeling. You are still a mystery to me.’
‘In the short time we have known each other, haven’t you learned anything about me?’
‘I have learned some things. I have learned that you are not the prim and proper miss you purport to be, and that you like making love to inebriated gentlemen when you are the one who can dictate the action, and that—’
‘Grant, please!’ Resting back on her heels, Adeline was aghast. ‘Stop it now,’ she retorted, her face heating. ‘It wasn’t like that, and you know it.’
‘No? Are you saying that you didn’t enjoy making love to me?’ He reached into the basket for a sandwich and slowly began to eat.
‘No—yes…Oh, behave yourself. You promised me you would.’
Grant was by no means done with her yet. ‘Have you done anything like that with anyone else?’
Adeline’s cheeks flamed with indignation. ‘No—and I have told you so.’
He grinned. ‘You have? Forgive me if I don’t recall.’
‘Will you please stop tormenting me about my—slip of propriety?’
His grin widened at her embarrassment, and then he gave a shout of laughter. ‘I like reminding you. I like seeing you get all flushed and flustered and hot under the collar.’
She glowered down at him. ‘Now you’re making fun of me.’
‘I know.’
Unable to stay cross with him—knowing he was teasing anyway—Adeline laughed.
Grant lay back beside her, linking his hands behind his head and staring up at the trees. ‘You should laugh more often. You have a beautiful laugh.’
Hearing the sensuous huskiness that deepened his voice, Adeline shivered inwardly. ‘Thank you—but you are only saying that to placate me.’
‘Do you need placating?’
She sighed, tucking her legs beneath her. ‘No. I’m having too nice a time to be cross.’
‘Good.’
When he closed his eyes, Adeline let her gaze wander over the smooth, thick lock of hair that dipped over his brow, and the authority and arrogance of every line of his darkly handsome face. She let her gaze travel down the full length of the superbly fit, muscled body stretched out beside her. How well she remembered him lying beside her like this once before when, even sleeping, he had exuded a raw, potent virility that had held her in thrall.
As if he could feel her eyes studying him, without opening his eyes, he quirked the mobile line of his mouth in a half-smile. ‘I hope you like what you see.’ He sighed. ‘You can kiss me if you want to, Adeline.’
Adeline’s eyes opened wide in astonishment, and then she laughed. Why, the sheer arrogance of the man. ‘I most certainly will not,’ she objected, slapping him playfully on the chest with her napkin.
Like lightning, he reared up. His hands shot out and gripped her upper arms, and he pulled her down onto her back, leaning over her. ‘If you won’t kiss me, do you mind if I kiss you?’ His voice was low-pitched and sensual. ‘Are you not curious to find out if it will be as good as when I kissed you at Oaklands? When I found you wandering about my house like a beautiful ghost in your nightdress.’ A slight smile touched his mouth, but his heavy-lidded gaze dropped to the inviting fullness of her lips, lingering there.
Hypnotised by that velvet voice and those mesmerising silver eyes, Adeline gazed up at him with a combination of fear and excitement. She tried to relax, but in the charged silence between them it was impossible. And then, as quick as he had been to pull her down onto the rug, so she rolled away from him and got to her knees.
Startled, Grant stared at her, annoyed that he was to be deprived of his kiss. ‘Now what?’
‘I think it’s time to go.’
‘If there’s anything I can’t abide it’s an obstinate woman.’
‘I’m sure you have most women jumping up to do your bidding.’
‘As a matter of fact, some of them do. My fatal charm doesn’t seem to work with you. I’ve no idea why.’
‘I’m immune.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘No, you’re not. Do you really think you will escape me so easily?’
‘Escape? What a strange term to use, Mr Leighton. Am I your prisoner?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘It is I who am yours.’
She laughed, beginning to put things into the basket. ‘How I wish.’
‘You are a cruel woman, Miss Osborne,’ Grant accused, getting to his feet and brushing down his trousers.
‘I am beginning to understand you and your motives.’
‘Which are?’
‘You are wasting your time if you are looking for an easy conquest. There must be any number of easier prospects.’
‘There must?’
‘Mmm. I can think of one in particular who is always most willing. Diana Waverley has a habit of collecting men like other people might collect butterflies.’
‘She does?’
‘You must have noticed. You seem to spend a great deal of time together.’
‘I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. We don’t. I think you misunderstand me.’
‘Oh, no.’ She laughed. ‘I understand you very well. I have enjoyed our picnic, but I don’t attach any significance to it.’
Grant sighed with mock gravity. ‘I can see how difficult it will be to convince you that I am attracted to you.’
‘Not difficult at all. I told you—I understand perfectly. Now, fold up that rug and we’ll get back before it comes on to rain.’
‘We can always wait it out under this tree.’
‘No.’
He shrugged, reaching for the rug. ‘You win.’
‘I always do.’
He slanted her a dubious glance. ‘This time.’
When they reached Eaton Place, Grant got out of the cab to carry the picnic basket up the steps. He was about to take his leave when a sudden thought occurred to him. ‘Do you ride when you’re in town?’
‘Yes. Often.’
‘Early in the morning?’
‘It’s the best time.’
‘I couldn’t agree more. I shall be in Hyde Park at six.’ Raising a superior brow he met her gaze. ‘Will you meet me?’
Despite knowing there would be whispers and raised brows aplenty if she were seen riding alone with him at such an early hour, she nodded, her gaze open and direct. ‘Where?’
‘At the corner of Park Lane.’ He grinned. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’
When he’d gone Adeline was so confused by what was happening to her that she scarcely noticed she was going into the drawing room. The whole day had been one of shared pleasures—but she told herself that her attraction to Grant Leighton was dangerous, that because of all that had happened between them, and his close association with Diana Waverley, nothing could come of it. It would have to stop. But when she thought of the way he had looked at her with his mesmerising silver-grey eyes, and her traitorous heart reminded her of how it had felt when he had made love to her, she forgot the danger. She told herself it was nothing—that they had been brought together by their mutual concern over Lettie’s liaison with Jack Cunningham, and that he probably didn’t realise what he was doing.