Danger Wears White. Lynne Connolly
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no more, and she had difficulty keeping time, so her pieces meandered more than the composer intended.
Imogen shuddered only to receive a solicitous query about her health. Her excuse. “My lord, I am perfectly well now, but I confess to feeling tired. We keep country hours here, and I’m not used to staying up so late.”
Her mother trilled with laughter in an alarming way. From her perch next to Imogen on the large sofa, she tapped her daughter on the arm with her fan. “Really, Imogen, we are not quite the provincials his lordship will think us.”
Lord Dankworth got to his feet. “Nevertheless, ma’am, I do believe Miss Thane has the right of it.”
For once, her mother didn’t remark on the lack of title, and Imogen liked him better for using the honorific she was entitled to.
“If I may escort you as far as the hall, I’d count it a pleasure.”
She could say nothing, and truly, she didn’t want to. He chatted comfortably as they traversed the corridor and then the morning parlor, which led into the medieval Great Hall. At the door that led to her part of the house, he paused, took the candlestick form her, and placed it on a nearby table. He took both her hands and turned her toward him.
“One kiss,” he murmured in an intimate tone she would rather not hear. “That’s all I ask.”
“Sir, it’s not proper—“
“Nobody is watching us. I will be gone in the morning, far too early for you to see me off, I fear. I want to assure you that if you give me cause, I’ll stop here and my father can go to the devil.”
“Don’t you rely on him for a living?” The words were out too fast for her to stop them. If he wanted her for her fortune, even her house, she’d understand. Younger sons could have a hard time of it, even sons of dukes.
Smiling, he shook his head. “Not I. I inherited a tidy estate from my mother.” He paused. “I don’t rely on my father in any way. I do share his political leanings, and when in London I use the family home, but that is all.” He gazed into her eyes and she couldn’t look away. “I don’t expect you to agree to everything right away, but my desire to see you in London is genuine. I would love to present you to the ton, but I want to do it with you by my side. You understand me?”
She did. He wanted to marry her, or at the least, to court her. “I-I do not think we shall suit.”
“I think we will. Let me show you.” Drawing her closer, he released her hands to slide his arms around her waist, and then he kissed her.
He didn’t use his tongue, as Tony had. That utterly carnal kiss still haunted her, and through the day, she’d occasionally touched her lips in remembrance, but this was a kiss she’d find hard to remember. It was perfectly pleasant, perfectly placed, and utterly forgettable.
She endured, even let him draw her close, but when it was done she didn’t linger.
“I will return,” he said. His lips were reddened and for a change, he wasn’t smiling, only gazing at her as if she could solve some problem.
He gave her the candlestick, and with one backward glance, went back to the south side of the house.
Imogen continued north.
Once in her room she changed out of her finery and into her usual clothes, plain but serviceable. A dark green skirt and one of the white shirts she wore with her riding habits. A little jacket in gray wool in case it got colder, although the little room rarely suffered from the chill, built as it was above the kitchens and with little space to actually get cold.
The day had been interminable, unbearable, and by the end of it, she’d been at screaming point, wanting to yell for everyone to go away and never come back. Didn’t they know she had a sick man to visit?
Was he well? Better or worse? Because God help her, she’d move him into the main house if he were suffering, Lord Dankworth or no. Standing before the mirror, she stuffed her hair into a white cap that she used when undertaking dirty work, the kind dairymaids used for keeping hair out of the butter.
Finding a pair of soft shoes, she slipped them on and then bethought herself what she could find. Probably better leaving it to Young George to decide what to replenish. She would stay all night. Lord Dankworth was leaving early, and he had given her leave not to see him off, so she could stay with Tony all night.
The notion made her heart beat faster and her midsection tighten.
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