Angel Rogue (39 page)

As he headed back to the main stable area, she sputtered, "What is that supposed to mean? You've been winding me around your finger ever since we met!"

He saddled the first gelding, then turned to her. "Surely you know that if you asked me to crawl on my hands and knees through a bed of hot coals, I would do it."

She blinked. "Wouldn't you at least want to know if I had a good reason for making such a request?"

He smiled. "Yes, and I'd wear my asbestos drawers as well. But I'd still do it if you asked."

An odd, breathless sensation fluttered in her chest as she gazed at him. He was either completely serious or the best liar on the face of the earth. Or perhaps insane; she mustn't forget that possibility. Wearily she found another saddle—the oldest, shabbiest one in the tack room—and saddled the other horse.

Robin led the way outside and they walked the horses quietly to a small gate in the estate wall. Maxie stared at the toes of her boots while he picked the lock. When they went outside, he relocked the gate, then they mounted and headed south.

When they were far enough from Ruxton for Maxie to feel safe, she asked, "Can we reach London today?"

"Yes, though it will be evening when we arrive."

She frowned, trying to calculate the state of the treasury. "Can we afford a night's lodging when we get there?"

"Not really. We have enough for tolls and food for the day, but that's about it. However, I have friends who can put us up."

"Won't they ask awkward questions?"

"Not these friends." He sighed. "Our casual habits will have to change, which is one reason why I haven't wanted the trip to end. Respectable folk would already consider you horrendously compromised, but it doesn't count since nobody knows. In London, however, we will rejoin the real world. Besides investigating your father's death, I assume you will want to visit your aunt. We're going to have to behave with a semblance of propriety, and make sure that our lies about the journey match."

" She made a face. "I suppose that means separate beds."

"I'm afraid so. If any of your relations—or mine, for that matter—discover that we have been traveling together, there will be a loud outcry demanding that we marry immediately."

"Why should you be concerned about that?" she said dryly. "I thought marriage was what you wanted."

He chuckled. "I can think of nothing that would make you fly off more quickly than being told that you
had
to marry me."

"I am quite capable of resisting social pressure, particularly from people I don't know," she retorted.

"So am I, but I learned a long time ago that superficial conformity simplifies one's life enormously."

"When in Rome, do as the Romans do?"

"Exactly. And that goes double for London." He glanced over at her. "Luckily I can obtain funds tomorrow, so we'll have no problems in that area."

"Dare I ask where you intend to get the money, Lord Robert?"

"From a banker, very boring and legitimate." His eyes danced. "Did you know that you always call me Lord Robert when you are disapproving?"

She thought for a moment, then gave a reluctant smile. "I suppose that silly fraudulent title symbolizes everything I don't know and don't trust about you."

"Do you truly distrust me?" he asked quietly.

She was not surprised that the question had resurfaced; it was at the core of their relationship. Luckily, they were entering a small village, which gave her time to think about her answer. After they threaded their way through the narrow high street and returned to the open road, she said, "It's no credit to my good sense, but I do trust you, at least to a point."

"What is that point?" He didn't look at her as he asked, and his expression was cool and unforthcoming.

"I am sure you would not knowingly cause me harm, and I believe you will always try to honor your word." She gave an exasperated sigh. "But perhaps I'm wrong. A wise woman once told me that being in love reduces one's intelligence by half, and eliminates good judgment altogether." She stopped in sudden consternation, realizing what she had just revealed.

Robin turned his head swiftly, his blue eyes intense. Catching her horse's bridle, he brought them both to a halt. Then he backed his horse next to hers, so close their legs touched, and bent over for a long, fiercely emotional kiss.

As she responded, her arms sliding up to circle his neck, she was startled by the depth of feeling her oblique declaration had unleashed. Robin might feel incapable of declaring love himself, but it seemed that her love was not an unwelcome gift.

As they resumed riding, the tension of the early morning was gone, and they were friends again.

One of the Wheatsheaf's chambermaids had been assigned to help the distinguished lady guest dress. Unfortunately, Desdemona's fresh gown was as dreary as the one she had worn the day before. She really must do something about her wardrobe.

As the maid fixed her hair, Desdemona thought about the previous evening. After their mutual baring of souls, both she and the marquess had retreated emotionally, and the dinner conversation had been general rather than personal. Yet even though Giles was the sort of rich landowner whom Desdemona had often opposed politically, she had to admit that his mind was both humane and tolerant. Probably more tolerant than her own, if she were going to be absolutely honest.

She had become wary as bedtime approached, wondering if he would try to persuade her to join him. But he had treated her with unexceptionable propriety. Except for one thorough goodnight kiss, the memory of which made her lips curve into a daft, cat in the cream pot smile___

Hastily Desdemona rearranged her expression, gave the maid a halfcrown, and went down to the parlor to break her fast. She was prepared for some constraint when she met the marquess again, and was perversely disappointed that he was not down before her.

With the unspoken hope that he would appear, she ordered enough food for two. The meal arrived shortly before Giles did. He tapped on the open door, then hesitated, his expression uncertain. "May I join you?"

The fact that he was equally shy dissolved Desdemona's nerves. "Please do," she said cordially. "I can't speak for the deviled kidneys, but the coddled eggs and sausage are excellent."

He took a chair opposite her. "I've been to the smith. My coach won't be ready before tomorrow at the earliest."

"No matter." As domestic as a wife, she poured him a cup of tea, adding milk as she had seen him do the night before. "We can go to your brother's estate in my carriage. Afterward, I can either return you to Daventry or take you on to London if you don't feel like waiting for your repairs to be completed."

"That's very good of you." He served himself eggs and sausage. "I'm in no mood to cool my heels here for another day."

"Do you think we'll find our fugitives at Ruxton?"

"I doubt it—I'm beginning to think of them as willo'thewisps, eternally flitting away just out of reach," he said dryly. "Will your niece call on you when she arrives in London?"

She shrugged. "I hope so, though I wouldn't wager major money on it. Will your brother go to Wolverton House?"

The marquess shook his head. "The place is closed with only a caretaker at the moment. I'd been thinking of selling it, actually, but I'm reconsidering." He gave her a level look. "Perhaps I'll be spending more time in town in the future."

Desdemona liked the sound of that. She found herself smiling again. Lord, she was behaving like a schoolgirl suffering her first case of calf love.

No, that wasn't true. As she looked down and meticulously spread marmalade over her toast, she realized that she had never felt this way before. She had been a shy and bookish girl, slow to develop interest in the opposite sex. In her salad days she had been tormented by unwanted advances, and she had married young and without love. Surely she was permitted a little folly now. Glancing up, she asked, "How will you find Lord Robert?"

"Money must be high on his list of priorities, so I'll leave word with his bankers," Giles replied. "I'll also let some of Robin's friends know that I'm looking for him."

The conversation brought Desdemona's fancies to earth. While she had come to trust the marquess, Lord Robert was still a doubtful quantity. If he had harmed Maxima, the repercussions would certainly affect the fragile feelings growing between herself and Giles.

Resolutely she reached for another piece of toast. Let the future take care of itself. Today she would enjoy the hours spent with the most attractive man she had ever known.

The roads were muddy, so they didn't reach Ruxton until almost noon. The gatekeeper was happy to admit the marquess, but when questioned, said that Lord Robert had not visited.

Unconvinced, they entered and went to the estate office. The steward, Haslip, was frowning over his books when Giles and Desdemona entered. The frown disappeared when he glanced up to see the man who had hired and supervised him for years.

"Lord Wolverton!" He got quickly to his feet. 'This is an unexpected pleasure, my lord. Will you be staying for a time?"

Giles shook his head. "I only stopped by to see if my brother was here."

Haslip hesitated. "Perhaps he was, but I'm not sure."

When Giles raised his brows, Haslip said, "No one saw him, but this morning two horses were missing and this note was in the stable." He handed a piece of paper to the marquess. "I don't know if this is his lordship's handwriting. If it is, well enough, but maybe it was forged by a clever thief. Whoever the fellow was, he took the two best mounts in the stables."

Giles scanned the note. It said only, "I need the horses," and was signed "Lord Robert Andreville." The writing was his brother's distinctive backslanting script.

"That's his hand." Giles passed the note to Desdemona. "So he was here last night. At what time was it noticed that the horses were missing?"

"About nine o'clock."

"I'll look in the house and see if he spent the night. If he arrived late, he probably didn't wish to waken anyone," Giles said smoothly. Better not to mention the Sheltered Innocent; where she was concerned, the less said, the better.

Haslip obviously had questions, such as how his new employer had entered a walled estate, why he had left without notifying anyone of his presence, and why he needed two horses. But the steward said only, "Very good, my lord. I'll fetch the keys."

After being let into the manor house, Giles dismissed Haslip. Then he and Desdemona spent some time searching the house, finishing in the kitchen.

"They were here, all right," Desdemona said after prowling through the stillroom, the china closets, and a tin bathing tub with a few drops of water inside. She held a newly washed and polished crystal goblet up to the light. "It appears they dined in some style."

"Robin has always had style," Giles remarked. "I looked through the linen closet. Judging by the number of sheets that had been used once, then carefully refolded, they slept in separate beds. Perhaps all our worries were for naught."

"We shall see," Desdemona said tersely. Still, she was willing to accept the possibility that a couple could travel together without the man ravishing the woman. A day earlier she might have disagreed, but association with Giles was teaching her that a mature man did not invariably act like a lust crazed youth.

Perhaps Lord Robert really had offered his escort to Maxima from pure altruism.

But even if there had been no misconduct, the questions of propriety and reputation remained. "Since they're on horseback, they could be in London tonight."

"Yes." The marquess gave her an encouraging smile. "In another day or two, this whole imbroglio should be cleared up."

As she led the way from the house, Desdemona thought wryly that the problem of Maxima might be on the verge of solution, but the problem of the marquess was a good deal more challenging. Still, it was the sort of challenge she could relish.