“Are you mocking me?”
He took her hand and stuck it on his arm. “No, quite the opposite. I just gave you a compliment, you impertinent little baggage. You’re soft-hearted and yet quite fearless when you need to be. I’m still in awe of the way you chased off my attackers. Who taught you how to shoot an elephant gun?”
“My Uncle George,” she admitted with a wince. “He caught Lily and me one morning trying to break into the cabinet where he stored his collection of weapons. Rather than scold us, he thought it safer to teach us how to use them. We were twelve years old at the time and that gun was enormous, much bigger than we were. He taught us how to load it, but wouldn’t allow us to fire it because he thought the force of the recoil would break our young bones.”
He glanced at her shoulder and frowned suddenly. “I never thought to ask. You didn’t appear to be hurt, but—”
“I wasn’t.” She shook her head and laughed lightly. “Although the force of the recoil did knock me onto my dainty derriere. Twice. The thick carpet in my bedchamber cushioned my fall. I’m surprised Uncle George didn’t come tearing into my room at the roar of that first shot, but he’d been up for two days straight with that important patient of his and was exhausted. He fell asleep fully clothed—jacket, cravat, boots—and was snoring before his head hit the pillow. Nothing was going to wake him up.”
“Except your butler.”
Still smiling, Dillie nodded. “Poor Pruitt, he had to duck my uncle’s fists as he shook him awake. But all turned out well, thank goodness. You’re alive.”
He covered her hand with his own when she began to tremble, for it was still resting on his arm where he’d placed it when preparing to escort her into Daisy’s parlor. “Come along,” he said with unexpected tenderness, “or Daisy and Gabriel will wonder what’s become of us.”
They managed only two steps before Dillie held him back. “I forgot to mention, Uncle George and I never said a word to anyone about... you know.”
He arched an eyebrow. “About my week in your bed?”
“I wish you wouldn’t put it quite like that. We thought it better to keep the incident to ourselves. No one knows but the three of us.”
“And Pruitt. And Ashcroft,” he pointed out. “And your footmen and my coachman.”
Dillie pursed her lips in thought. “But they’re all loyal. They wouldn’t tattle, would they?”
He shrugged. “Let’s hope not.”
***
The quiet afternoon Ian had hoped for turned out not to be so quiet after all. He had expected to meet Gabriel at his home to discuss business and other matters of national importance, including who had tried to kill him last November. He hadn’t expected to find Dillie there visiting her sister.
The sight of Dillie standing in the entry hall, holding her niece in her arms, had sent his heart shooting into his throat. She had looked so happy. He couldn’t remember when he’d ever felt such joy. He didn’t think he ever had.
She was laughing and cooing over Ivy, the love she held for that baby shining through her glorious blue eyes, even as Ivy wreaked havoc on her hair and practically tore the earring off her earlobe. Dillie hadn’t minded at all. She’d held the child so naturally, as though the squirming bundle in her arms were simply another appendage.
She would make a wonderful mother. Unlike his own.
Dillie had caught him staring at her. In truth, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. It wasn’t simply that she was beautiful. There were many beautiful young women in London, though none came close to Dillie’s spectacular allure. She had a magical, inner glow, a moon-and-stars sparkle that made him ache to take her into his arms and hold her close forever.
Of course, forever for him meant about a month, for that was the longest any sweet young thing had ever held his interest. Dillie was the exception, but only because she was forbidden fruit. Gabriel and Graelem would cut out his entrails and feed them to the carrion birds if he ever hurt Dillie.
Ian fidgeted in his chair. Gabriel and Daisy had taken over the settee, leaving him no choice but to claim the seat beside Dillie’s. He spent the next half hour forced to pretend that her soft laughter and sweet blush did not affect him. Daisy, her own blue eyes sparkling with mirth, had taken over the conversation, relating the latest scandals making their way around London. Dillie had responded with the innocent awe of a child.
He couldn’t remember ever being that innocent.
He shifted uncomfortably once more, tortured by Dillie’s nearness and his inability to touch her. He couldn’t conceive of a worse punishment... and then Daisy’s other guests arrived. By the time Lady Eloise Dayne was announced, the servants had set out an elaborate display of sweets and other refreshments to accompany the afternoon tea.