Stolen Kisses by Suzanne Enoch Page B

much gets by you, does it?” he said wryly. “And unfortunately, you are correct. I have no doubt Dolph Remdale would use my presence at the site of his dear uncle’s death to try to get me thrown into Old Bailey.”
    His offhand compliment surprised and pleased her,but only for a moment. “Then the authorities should definitely be contacted.”
    The marquis actually chuckled. “ Un coup très palpable ,” he said in perfect French. “A very palpable hit. You’ve wounded me with your wit.”
    “I believe one is supposed to quote Shakespeare in his native language,” she noted stiffly. It irked her that he thought she might require the translation.
    Dansbury pursed his lips, his eyes dancing now. “But Hamlet was Danish.”
    He did know which play he was stealing from. Interesting, though it certainly didn’t leave her feeling any steadier. “Then why French?”
    “I don’t speak Danish. I do speak a little Italian, if you would prefer me to quote from Romeo and Juliet .”
    “Why would I wish that? I am not Juliet, and you, my lord, are certainly no Romeo.”
    The marquis was wearing his innocent, seductive look again, but with Wenford’s corpse in the background, he was slightly easier to resist than he had been the last time he had waylaid her. “I suppose that would depend on whom you ask.”
    “I don’t discuss you at all,” she lied.
    He grinned, real amusement in his eyes, and glanced toward the window again. “Miss Benton, it’s still early. Why don’t we simply put Wenford in your coach, drive him home, and place him on his front step?”
    “What? What if someone sees?” It was too scandalous to contemplate. Yet at the same time, it was the best idea she’d heard all morning.
    “No one will see. Everyone’s at Billington’s, remember?” Dansbury studied her for a moment. “It will be our secret.”
    Lilith abruptly understood why he was being so solicitous. “And I will be in your debt, yes?” she said slowly, meeting his eyes.
    He didn’t show any sign of being remorseful at all. In fact, he smiled. “Yes, you will. And make no mistake, my lady—I intend to collect.” He looked down at his pocket watch, then glanced up at her from beneath his long, black lashes. “It is your choice, however.”
    There seemed very little choice, to her. Wenford left on the floor and a scandal, or Wenford gone and no scandal, but a debt to a blackguard. And with her family’s, and her own, good name to consider. “I don’t seem to be in a position to bargain.”
    Again he gave that sly, seductive smile. “No, you’re not.” He strode to the door and leaned out. “Bevins, Miss Benton requires the coach to be brought around front.” He glanced back at her. “You trust your head groom?”
    The rogue of a moment ago was gone, replaced by an efficient, intelligent man who, for a wild moment, she wanted to believe in. “Yes.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Milgrew.”
    He turned away again. “Have Milgrew bring it himself.”
    Dansbury hadn’t questioned her decision, hadn’t second-guessed her; he’d simply assumed she would have an answer and had followed it. That abruptly made her very uncomfortable. “So, is this how you captured William, as well?” she said, to have something to say. “Some sort of blackmail?”
    He laughed as he leaned back against the couch. “No. William walked into my demonic clutches quite willingly.”
    That stilled the comment she had been about to make regarding his demonic nature, so she clenched her handstogether and cleared her throat “You returned the Wenford pin.”
    Jack nodded. “Yes, to Dolph. Apparently, though, His Grace didn’t see fit to leave it in his nephew’s care.”
    “He probably decided it would be safer from you that way,” she countered.
    “If I’d wanted it I wouldn’t have given it back.”
    That stopped her. “Then why did you bother taking it in the first place?”
    “I won it, Miss Benton,” he corrected, faint humor