Kissing Cousins (12 page)

“
I do what I can. Family, after all,
”
he said modestly.

“
The next time any of our relatives call you stiff-rumped, I shall give them a good piece of my mind,
”
she said.

That brought Salverton back to earth with a thump.
“
Is that what they say of me behind my back?
”

She smiled.
“
You do give that impression, you know, but I think it
’
s mainly impatience. I
’
m sure you have all sorts of important things on your mind, a gentleman like you.
”

“
I do carry a heavy load at Whitehall,
”
he admitted, again modestly.
“
There
’
s a report I should be working on ... But I shall do as I promised, and look after Darren first.
”

“
Well, you
’
re very kind, Cousin, and I thank you.
”

She reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. For a moment their eyes met and held. Neither of them said anything, but they were both conscious of some emotion more powerful than a simple kiss on the cheek would cause.

After a moment, Salverton cleared his throat.
“
Happy I could help. Well, good night, Cousin.
”

“
Good night, Edward.
”

As he returned to his own room, Salverton
’
s fingers massaged the spot where she had kissed him. A small smile tugged at his lips. He wouldn
’
t have admitted it for the world, but he was looking forward to Tunbridge Wells with Samantha, without Jonathon Sykes to cause mischief.

Salverton was accustomed to arising at seven to get an early start on his day
’
s work. He disliked dressing in evening clothes in the morning, and especially in yesterday
’
s soiled shirt, but at least he managed to get hot water and the loan of a dull razor from Mabel
—
for a price. The bump on the back of his head didn
’
t show. As he shaved in the few square inches of dim mirror over his dressing table, however, he noticed that his left eye was bruised from the fight at Mike Skelton
’
s gaming hell. How was he to explain that to Louise? She disapproved of violence, even the socially acceptable sort practiced at Gentleman Jackson
’
s Boxing Parlor.

At half past seven he put his ear to the connecting door to listen for sounds that Samantha was up and dressing. All was silence. The obvious didn
’
t occur to him
—
that she was still sleeping. He immediately leapt to the conclusion that she had run off to Tunbridge Wells with Sykes
—
without himself, after all his efforts on her behalf.

He flung the door open and barged into her room. The noise aroused Samantha, who was just awaking. She sat up in her bed, staring in consternation at Salverton. A golden tousle of curls tumbled about her cheeks. Her blue eyes blinked in confusion. Salverton just stared, half in admiration and half in embarrassment. How could a woman look so lovely, so ravishing, so early in the morning?

In the first instant of awakening, Samantha hardly recognized her cousin. Salverton
’
s bruised eye lent him a touch of recklessness. She felt that a strange man was breaking into her room. She pulled the bedcovers up to her chin and emitted one loud, high-pitched scream.

Salverton hastened toward the bed.
“
Stop that! You
’
ll bring half the house to your door. What
’
s the matter with you?
”
he demanded, his eyebrows drawn together in a sharp frown.

“
Oh, Cousin!
”
she gasped, and put her fingers to her cheeks in embarrassment as she remembered the night
’
s proceedings.
“
I
’
m sorry. You frightened me half to death. I didn
’
t recognize you at first. Is it time to get up?
”
She reached for her watch that she had placed on the bedside table.

Salverton noticed the becoming lawn nightgown she wore, with rosebuds embroidered by Miss Donaldson across the top. It was far from immodest. More of a lady
’
s body could be seen any night at a polite ball. But it was sleeveless and of a thin material that gave more than a suggestion of the supple curves beneath the gown. He knew he should leave the room, but he just stood, gazing at her as if mesmerized. His eyes moved slowly from her face to her dainty white arms and shoulders, to the thin lawn covering her upper body.

Samantha felt uncomfortable at this close scrutiny. She wasn
’
t afraid of her cousin, but she was shocked at his lack of control. To recall him to propriety, she said,
“
I had no idea it was so late. If you
’
ll leave, Edward, I shall be dressed and join you in a moment.
”

He gave her a self-conscious look.
“
Yes, I
’
ll meet you below,
”
he said, and left the room at a rapid pace, mentally chastising himself for acting like a Johnnie Raw. But to judge by what he had seen, Samantha
’
s body was enough to make any red-blooded man take a second look. Should he apologize when she joined him? Or would it be best to just ignore that uncomfortable moment?

It occurred to Samantha that Edward had behaved like a schoolboy, or a hungry man looking at a meal. She already suspected the match with Lady Louise was no love match, despite his protests. Did Edward not have a woman on the side? Had his affair with Esmée given him a disgust of hired escorts? What did he do about his physical needs? These thoughts flitted through her mind as she splashed cold water on her face, hastily dressed, and ran a comb through her curls.

At a quarter to eight she joined Salverton. He was waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase.

“
We
’
re not eating breakfast here,
”
he said firmly.
“
I
’
ve seen the dining room. It
’
s been taken over by black beetles. Sykes will take the carriage back to Winkler
’
s. We
’
ll walk to the Curzon.
”

“
But you
’
re dressed for the evening. And in that black eye, Edward, you look like a debauched dandy.
”
Her tinkling laughter was not entirely devoid of admiration.

“
A case of the pot calling the kettle black,
”
he said, smiling as his gaze moved to her bonnet.

“
I doubt they
’
ll let us in the door.
”

“
They
’
ve never banned me from entering before. I shouldn
’
t think the hotel will be busy this early in the morning. We
’
ll hire a private parlor and eat there.
”

A quick glance at the few clients on their way to the breakfast parlor left Samantha with no wish to join them. It would be lovely to sit down at a table with a clean cover and good food.

“
We should say good-bye to Jonathon,
”
she said.

“
I
’
ve had a word with him. Sykes has been amply paid for his services,
”
he said, not reprimanding her for using the man
’
s first name
—
as if
“
Mr. Sykes
”
were not bad enough!
—
but stressing the
Sykes,
to remind her he was a servant.

As he spoke, he took her elbow and led her from the house. At least the weather was in their favor. A luminous copper disc in the watery sky suggested it would be a fine day once they got beyond the coastal mist. The breeze from the ocean was not so very chilly. Salverton set a brisk pace, and they arrived at the Curzon before his coachman. They found the lobby virtually empty. He asked for a private parlor and managed to get Samantha hidden away without being seen by anyone but the hotel employees. Then he sent word that his coachman was to wait for him outside.

“
This is more like it!
”
he said when the steaming coffee arrived. The waiter lifted the lids from plates of bacon and eggs. A rack of toast was placed on the table. Pots of marmalade and jam were offered, and they enjoyed a civilized breakfast.

“
Does the bruised eye hurt, Edward?
”
Samantha asked.

“
Only my pride. You will recall I was outnumbered last night. I can usually handle myself pretty well in a brawl.
”

“
I noticed you weren
’
t backward about starting the fight.
”

Salverton was pleased to see no sign of disapproval. He was happy to show her he wasn
’
t just a stiff-rumped worthy, but the sort of gentleman who could pitch himself into a brawl when necessary.

“
How will you explain the eye to Lady Louise?
”
she asked.
“
Bumped into a door, I believe, is the usual explanation.
”

“
Just so. At least I shan
’
t have to explain this shirt and soiled cravat. I
’
ll change before I call on her. Just a brief visit, and a quick trip to Berkeley Square. I must speak to my secretary, then we'll go on to Tunbridge Wells.
”

“
You got the address of Sir Geoffrey
’
s house from Sykes?
”

Salverton
’
s fork stopped halfway to his mouth.
“
I thought you had it.
”

“
No, I thought you got it when you spoke to him this morning. I know only that the cottage is in Tunbridge Wells.
”

“
Damnation! I
’
ll send my groom back to Sykes
’
s place to get directions.
”

They were interrupted by a tap at the door. Salverton
’
s face froze. If one of Lady Louise
’
s friends had seen him come in here with Samantha
—

Before he had time to think of a story to account for it, the door opened and Jonathon Sykes came striding into the parlor. Jonathon had had no problem with his toilette. He wore a decent blue jacket, a clean shirt and cravat, and a freshly shaved face, and looked, as Salverton was acutely aware, better than himself.

Samantha immediately invited him to join them for coffee.
“
You think of everything, Jonathon,
”
she said.
“
My cousin was just telling me he forgot to get the address of Sir Geoffrey
’
s house in Tunbridge Wells.
”

Jonathon pulled up a chair and handed her a sheet of paper.
“
I got the directions from Amy this morning, but that
’
s not the only reason I
’
m here.
”

Salverton directed a cold stare at him.
“
How much? I assume this trip has diverted you from some vastly lucrative enterprise.
”

“
Nay, you
’
ve paid me handsomely, melord
—
unless you want to add a
pourboire
for what I
’
m about to tell you.
”

“
What is it?
”
Samantha asked.

“
The fellow I warned you about last night. He
’
s still on your tail. I thought it wise to follow you to make sure. He didn
’
t follow you from my place, but he
’
s out front now, keeping an eye on your rig. I figure he went to the stable, knowing you
’
d collect your rattler and prads before going any farther. He
’
s changed his donkey for a mount, but it
’
s the same lad right enough.
”

“
Who can he be?
”
Samantha said, looking from Sykes to Salverton.

It was Salverton who answered.
“
Bow Street, obviously.
”

Jonathon said,
“
I could have a dab jostle him. I know a gallows bird would do it for next to nothing.
”

Salverton began to explain to Samantha.
“
What Sykes means is that he knows a pickpocket who
—”

“
I know that, Edward. I
’
m not a complete flat. You forget my association with Wanda. The man must be from Bow Street, don
’
t you think?
”
she said, addressing herself to Sykes.

“
Of course he is. Who else could he possibly be?
”
Salverton said.
“
No need to hire the gallows bird. The officer obviously followed us from London in the hope that we
’
d lead him to Miss Claridge and Darren. When he sees us return to London, he'll assume we
’
ve failed.
”

“
Still, it might be worth checking,
”
Sykes said.
“
Better safe than sorry.
”

Salverton assumed Sykes was interested only in further incursions into his purse, and declined the offer.

“
It
’
s up to you,
”
Sykes said,
“
but now that I got a closer look at the fellow, I
’
m not so sure he
’
s from Bow Street. It
’
s not one of the lads Townsend usually sends to Brighton. I know the regulars to see them. This one
’
s a big, husky brute.
”