Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman by Julia Justiss

operations is just the sort of mischief that might attract him. If it were only Rob Roy, I’d not worry…but this new man is an entirely different sort, much more dangerous than George can credit.’
    Privately alarmed, Amanda sought a soothing tone. ‘Mr Anders will be reporting to the Coastal Brigade soon. Why not ask him to check with the local officer? If there’s anything dangerous afoot, they should know of it.’
    Her father brightened. ‘That’s an excellent idea.’ A momentlater, he put a hand to his chest, grimacing. ‘I’m afraid I’m growing weary, my dear. Will you mind terribly if I abandon you?’
    She’d just been about to broach the topic of Althea. But Papa did look tired and unwell, she thought with a pang of concern. Surely she could muddle along on her own a while longer. ‘Of course not. I was about to go up myself.’
    After her father kissed her goodnight and left for his chamber, Amanda lingered only long enough to put out the candles. She needed her rest, too, for tomorrow, in addition to her other tasks, she’d have to fit in a tour around the property with Althea—and Mr Anders.
    A flurry of anticipation buoyed her to her room. She couldn’t quite convince herself that the sense of heightened expectation was due only to the pride she’d feel in showing off Papa’s estate.
    Â 
    â€˜Mr Anders, you will truly enjoy this first site,’ Miss Holton told him as he guided the gig down the Salters Bay Road. ‘’Tis the ruins of an iron-age fortification. The area has many of them, remnants of the ancient Dumnonii who inhabited this region before the Roman conquest. The hills are riddled with caves as well, one of the reason free-traders are eager to land goods here. If you would stop now, please?’
    â€˜At your command, Miss Holton,’ Greville said, pulling up the horses.
    For the third straight day, he was touring Ashton Grove land with Miss Neville and her cousin. The first time, when he’d not been sure how long he’d be able to tolerate the jolting of a carriage, they had confined their explorations to the immediate vicinity of Ashton Grove manor. Perhaps mindful of his condition, Miss Neville had maintained a dawdling pace, stopping frequently at a series of small farms. At each one, she greeted the tenants by name, enquired about their families and askedinsightful questions about the condition of the fields and the current status of ploughing and planting.
    Yesterday they’d travelled north, past velvety pasture land dotted with dairy cattle, up towards steeper, rockier ground where flocks of sheep grazed. Again, Miss Neville paused whenever they encountered men tending the animals, enquiring after them and their beasts. Farther north still, she’d told him, were tin mines in which her father had a controlling interest.
    Today they were headed towards the coast at Salters Bay, where he meant to report for duty at the Coastal Brigade station.
    After climbing out, Greville walked around the gig, buoyed with anticipation. One of the benefits of finally feeling well enough to take over the reins from Miss Neville, who had driven on each of their previous outings, was going to be the delight of lifting her down from the vehicle.
    An instant later, she was in his arms. He revelled in this perfectly acceptable excuse to touch her…and if his fingers lingered a bit longer than absolutely necessary at her waist, allowing him to breathe in her light flowery scent and savour the sparking burn where his hands pressed against her—oh, that there were not so many layers of cloth and chamois between his skin and hers!—perhaps she’d attribute it to his not being recovered enough to complete the action swiftly.
    Though her widened eyes and slight intake of breath as she looked up at him, standing motionless with his hands still upon her, hinted that perhaps she found the contact as