The Last Gamble. Anabelle Bryant

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СКАЧАТЬ duped the beguiling governess into preparing his dinner. It offered yet another opportunity to convince her she needed to accompany him to London and at the same time lead him to discover if she smelled like apricots everywhere.

      He’d spend the time in between writing a message to Cole in which he explained beyond the curt sentences he’d offered his partners before leaving for Coventry, to warn against a chance of repercussions. An appraisal of Dursley’s reaction to the theft was in order if word circulated, for the man dared frequent The Underworld. In all circumstances, information was scarce.

      Luke had hired investigators in the past but mayhap Georgina’s idea held worth. It couldn’t hurt to approach a private runner to poke around in things now he possessed Dursley’s journal. If only he’d known about the book months ago. He would stop at nothing until he recovered Nathaniel. For the life of him he couldn’t imagine what Dursley meant to gain.

      Thinking back at the confrontation immediately after the day Nate was taken, his half-brother’s behaviour proved disdainful, argumentative and imperious. Had Luke not been beside himself with broken emotion, he might have beaten Dursley to a pulp for no other reason than to expend his enraged helplessness. Dursley denied any involvement, quick to suggest Luke had become negligent or worse, had tired of fatherhood and, anxious to rid himself of the burden, engaged in suspicious methods.

      The young girl Luke had paid to watch over Nate identified Dursley without a doubt, but when Luke visited her home the following afternoon, the maid had vanished, disappeared into London’s population, another frightened runaway. Another Smith. Whether she fled of her own volition or was encouraged, threatened by Dursley, Luke would never know and it no longer mattered. Recovering his son consumed his purpose.

      Since that time he’d worked at the hell, continued on with life, even entertained a lady or two, but his heart and soul remained in a vault, devoted to his son until the day he brought Nate home again. Everything else served as perfunctory repetition and mere distraction.

      This afternoon he would take Snake Eyes for a run and expend their redundant restlessness before he bathed and dressed for dinner. Should he bring a gift to the lovely governess? Flowers or sweets? Something clever to curry her compliance. He had no idea what she favoured but he’d soon find out.

      Dinner smelled divine. The table was set with neatly pressed linen, the curtains drawn and Biscuit well fed, shut away in another room to guarantee he would not cause another troubling episode. Earlier, when Georgina had examined her wardrobe and chosen the amber gown, the best she owned here in Coventry, she’d almost decided to leave her hair down, her tresses often regarded by her friends as her loveliest feature. But in a belated judgement, she’d arranged the thick lengths into an attractive twist and pinned it up in keeping with her portrayal of a prim governess. This wasn’t a romantic liaison by any means, not a suitor come to call. It was an act of hospitality and gesture of kindness, and she’d be smart to remember Mr Reese, Luke, had one goal in mind.

      Chastising herself for the romantic inclination, she recalled the contents of the letter to her parents she’d written earlier, the note long overdue. In two paragraphs, she assured them of her safety while concealing her location. She’d held back from writing sooner, afraid she’d weaken and return home, but now, distanced from the devastating emotions of that fateful day, she believed her decision for the best.

      Coventry offered privacy and the quietude needed to sort out her future. She couldn’t go to London. London would be the cause of heartache and shame. Someday she’d return. She loved her family too much not to see them again, but at the present, someday offered the ideal amount of vagueness her spirit required.

      Recalling London brought with it the stricture of society so unlike Coventry. Her parents held tight to public opinion and tradition. She’d be ruined were it discovered she’d cooked a meal and entertained a bachelor unchaperoned in her home. A clever bachelor gaming-hell proprietor, no less.

      Still, a now-familiar pattern of guilt and remorse demanded she acknowledge the lifestyle she’d abandoned, her mind all too quick to flutter through a series of memories, whether elegant evening dinner parties or afternoon social calls. Her parents relished their social status afforded by relation to a peer of the realm. This truth in large part had fomented her decision to flee London and preserve their pristine reputation.

      As if in challenge to her woolgathering, a sturdy knock sounded at the door. She glanced at the wood box clock on the sideboard table. Luke was punctual if nothing else. Coasting her palms over her gown, she touched a hand to her hair to summon composure and opened the door to greet him.

      ‘Hello.’ A bubble of anticipation danced in her chest. Forget punctual, Luke was devastatingly handsome. Framed within the threshold, the sun fading at his back, he depicted a sinful rogue, his face shadowed into sharp angles and lean lines. Black hair, glossed by reflected light, was combed away from his face to fall in a too-long lock on one side. His grey eyes sparkled with the electric glint of late-night stars, fleeting, white-hot, and dangerous, yet enthralling all the same. He smiled then, and her breath caught. That dimple would be the death of her.

      ‘For you.’

      He handed a bouquet forward, every colour of peony tied together with a white satin ribbon and she couldn’t resist a tease. ‘You didn’t steal these from someone’s garden, did you?’

      ‘And run the risk of further canine catastrophe? Never.’ He stepped into her cottage and the evening suddenly became so much more than a gesture of hospitality. A giddy palpitation slinked through her ribcage, tickling her bones one at a time until it came to rest like a warm hug around her heart.

      ‘Something smells delicious.’ One dark brow slashed upward and he eyed the room with speculative interest before he continued. ‘You’ve caged the beast?’

      ‘Yes.’ She laughed, all at once aware of how secluded she’d kept herself. Oh, it was heavenly to have company. His company. Best she enjoy it this evening and not delude her heart it was an event to be repeated. ‘Dinner should be ready in a minute.’ She bustled about the kitchen placing the flowers on the table in a vase filled with water. Perfect. ‘You can pour the wine if you’d like.’

      She glanced over her shoulder and then turned towards the wood-burning stove to conceal her delight. It seemed natural, right, or maybe she was so accustomed to spending time alone, anyone’s company brought with it appreciation. She didn’t trouble herself with the riddle. Opening the stove, heat struck her face and forced her focus. She removed the pan and placed it on the cast-iron trivet to cool.

      ‘I can help.’ He appeared behind her, so close his breath against her cheek caused a startle. She swallowed and twisted to face him, half expecting him to step away and simultaneously hoping he wouldn’t. She’d shut the stove but the kitchen blazed like an inferno. Her body heated from the inside out.

      His gaze roved over her face slowly, studying her with intensity. ‘Do you always keep your hair tucked away and hidden like that?’

      She licked her lips to get her mouth working again. ‘The length is too long to leave down. It would forever be in my way.’ She darted a glance beyond his shoulder to the table, unsure and at the same time drawn towards his heat. ‘We should begin before something gets cold.’ No chance of that.

      ‘Yes. Another good idea.’

      Luke stepped to the side and allowed Georgina to lead. What was he thinking? He could only blame a sudden irrational addiction to the scent of apricots, otherwise the manner in which he sidled up to her near the kitchen counter was worthy of a slap or, at the least, another bite from Biscuit. Still, СКАЧАТЬ