her. But what? And how,when she had no idea where he’d gone off to?
The means to find out the answer to his whereabouts came to her as she caught sight of Jeremy about to leave for the evening. She rushed out to the foyer to stop him.
“Have you got a moment, Jeremy?”
“For you, m’dear, always, though tonight, only a moment.”
“You’re not late for something, are you?”
“No, just eager.” He grinned. “Always eager.”
She smiled back at him. He really was following in his father’s footsteps, though she couldn’t imagine that Uncle James had ever been as charming and carefree as his rapscallion son was. James would have been much more serious in his seductions, whereas Jeremy was rarely serious about anything.
“I won’t keep you,” she promised. “But could you delay, just a bit, arriving at your intended destination?” His well-turned-out form said he’d be stopping in at one or more of the ton parties, probably one that she’d been invited to herself, but hadn’t wanted to attend. “Just long enough to find out where Warren has gone off to for the evening?”
She’d bowled him over with that request, if his expression was any indication, and it was. “Now what would I want to do that for?”
Amy hadn’t thought that far ahead. “George wants to know,” was all she could think to say. “She’s got an urgent message for him that won’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Very well, but don’t expect me to return with his whereabouts. I’ll send a runner with a note.”
“I’m sure that will do fine.”
She felt miserable after he’d gone. She wasn’t in the habit of lying to him or anyone else in her family. Withholding truths occasionally, but not outright lying.
But Jeremy would never have done what she asked if she’d told him that she wanted to send Warren a message, rather than Georgina. He’d have wanted to know why, and there simply wasn’t a good enough excuse that couldn’t have been taken care of with a message sent to Warren’s hotel instead, or held off until the morning.
To have confessed that she wanted to keep Warren out of some hussy’s bed tonight would have gone over real well, she was sure. She’d have had a good hour’s lecture from him, and the rest of the family would have been informed, likely that very evening, of her tender regard for Georgina’s most taciturn brother, and that would go over even better. She’d find herself shipped off to the country posthaste, no doubt about it—at least until Warren returned to America.
Jeremy came through for her sooner thanexpected. Not an hour later, she had a place, The Hell and Hound—a tavern, she assumed. She’d never heard of it, but she recognized the address, and it was not in a better part of town. Now all she had to do was compose a message, something dire, something earth-shattering, something guaranteed to pull Warren away from his hussy…
Chapter 13
“What the devil are you doing here?”
Amy winced at the thunder in Warren’s voice. And she wished she had an answer for him other than the truth, but she couldn’t think of one, no more than she’d been able to come up with a suitable message to send that would make him leave this place. She’d tried, she really had, but nothing had occurred to her that would work and keep him from wanting to kill her the very moment he figured out that the message was from her and not exactly true.
But she supposed she shouldn’t have come herself instead. That had been a bit too impulsive even for her, dangerous, too, and irresponsible; and why hadn’t she thought of all that before she walked in the door of The Hell and Hound?
Stupid jealousy, to goad her like that, when Warren had every right to sleep with as many women as he cared to—at least until she had a firmer commitment from him than “Keep your distance.” After they were married would have been the time to do something this foolish if he even considered being unfaithful, but not
The means to find out the answer to his whereabouts came to her as she caught sight of Jeremy about to leave for the evening. She rushed out to the foyer to stop him.
“Have you got a moment, Jeremy?”
“For you, m’dear, always, though tonight, only a moment.”
“You’re not late for something, are you?”
“No, just eager.” He grinned. “Always eager.”
She smiled back at him. He really was following in his father’s footsteps, though she couldn’t imagine that Uncle James had ever been as charming and carefree as his rapscallion son was. James would have been much more serious in his seductions, whereas Jeremy was rarely serious about anything.
“I won’t keep you,” she promised. “But could you delay, just a bit, arriving at your intended destination?” His well-turned-out form said he’d be stopping in at one or more of the ton parties, probably one that she’d been invited to herself, but hadn’t wanted to attend. “Just long enough to find out where Warren has gone off to for the evening?”
She’d bowled him over with that request, if his expression was any indication, and it was. “Now what would I want to do that for?”
Amy hadn’t thought that far ahead. “George wants to know,” was all she could think to say. “She’s got an urgent message for him that won’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Very well, but don’t expect me to return with his whereabouts. I’ll send a runner with a note.”
“I’m sure that will do fine.”
She felt miserable after he’d gone. She wasn’t in the habit of lying to him or anyone else in her family. Withholding truths occasionally, but not outright lying.
But Jeremy would never have done what she asked if she’d told him that she wanted to send Warren a message, rather than Georgina. He’d have wanted to know why, and there simply wasn’t a good enough excuse that couldn’t have been taken care of with a message sent to Warren’s hotel instead, or held off until the morning.
To have confessed that she wanted to keep Warren out of some hussy’s bed tonight would have gone over real well, she was sure. She’d have had a good hour’s lecture from him, and the rest of the family would have been informed, likely that very evening, of her tender regard for Georgina’s most taciturn brother, and that would go over even better. She’d find herself shipped off to the country posthaste, no doubt about it—at least until Warren returned to America.
Jeremy came through for her sooner thanexpected. Not an hour later, she had a place, The Hell and Hound—a tavern, she assumed. She’d never heard of it, but she recognized the address, and it was not in a better part of town. Now all she had to do was compose a message, something dire, something earth-shattering, something guaranteed to pull Warren away from his hussy…
Chapter 13
“What the devil are you doing here?”
Amy winced at the thunder in Warren’s voice. And she wished she had an answer for him other than the truth, but she couldn’t think of one, no more than she’d been able to come up with a suitable message to send that would make him leave this place. She’d tried, she really had, but nothing had occurred to her that would work and keep him from wanting to kill her the very moment he figured out that the message was from her and not exactly true.
But she supposed she shouldn’t have come herself instead. That had been a bit too impulsive even for her, dangerous, too, and irresponsible; and why hadn’t she thought of all that before she walked in the door of The Hell and Hound?
Stupid jealousy, to goad her like that, when Warren had every right to sleep with as many women as he cared to—at least until she had a firmer commitment from him than “Keep your distance.” After they were married would have been the time to do something this foolish if he even considered being unfaithful, but not
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