diverting entertainment. See you anon.” She gave a dramatic wave out the window.
While she usually enjoyed visiting with her friends, Sarah had spent the last hour searching for an excuse to see them on their way. Mr Ravenhill’s unexpected arrival made her wonder what he’d found. It took every ounce of her self-control to keep her curiosity in check. Once or twice she’d nearly bitten a hole in her cheek to keep from asking something that would reveal their association.
Much as she’d tried not to think about him, he’d been in her thoughts almost constantly. His injuries appeared to be healing, but what of his head trauma? Odd little hesitations made it seem as if he was in the midst of some inner struggle, at times unable to decide what to say or do.
She’d never had such an urge to mother a man, to take him into her arms and tell him everything would be all right. And then… in her imagination, he’d show her the same care and reassurance.
Re-entering her home, she found him alone in the vestibule, turning this way and that… preening. Was he studying or admiring the fit of his fine continental suit in the long mirror? His posturing made her smile. Had she ever met a vainer man?
When he saw her, a corner of his mouth drew up in an ‘aha, you caught me’ kind of grin. Instead of blanching with embarrassment, he shifted his full attention to her. The weight of his admiration nearly caused her to stumble.
He’d a unique combination of strength, intelligence, and more than a dash of self-deprecating humor. And
Mercy!
sometimes when he gazed at her, the heat in his eyes threatened to melt everything inside her. In one sultry glance, he could make her feel as if she were the most wondrous being he’d ever seen. And he was gazing at her like that right now.
In four steps, he closed the distance between them. “Are they on their way?” The inflection in those simple words conjured an invitation that made her next breath shaky.
She nodded. “Has Lumsley left?”
Ravenhill’s smile slipped as he gestured with his chin. “He walked down that hallway.”
“Probably went for the parlor. My brother usually takes his nap in there.”
“I’m glad we have a moment to ourselves.” Ravenhill’s voice dipped to a confidential rumble as he raised his hand to brush back a stray hair from Sarah’s forehead. “Did the countess give you the list?”
Sarah caught a glimpse of his large, muscular hand as he dropped it to his side. A few minor scars decorated it, but there were no recent bruises or cuts. Evidence he’d
not
fought with his attackers. Had they incapacitated him immediately? There’d been a rash of garroting of late. The newspaper explained the technique whereby a wrist bone was used to press against the windpipe. She shuddered at the thought.
Lumsley accused Mr Ravenhill of not being much of a fighter. She’d a hard time believing a man of his size and obvious strength couldn’t defend himself. Still, something seemed off about his injuries. “The countess will see to the list as soon as she arrives home,” she whispered in the echoing vestibule.
I’ve also discovered a few more things that might be important. Are you aware your husband maintained a laboratory in a St Giles warehouse?”
“No!” The information disturbed her more than she wanted to admit. “Are you sure?” Why wouldn’t Edward have told her about it? “I don’t understand. He had an excellent and convenient one right here. How did you find out about this other laboratory?”
“An explosion and fire took place in a portion of one of my father’s warehouses. The tenant was Lord Strathford.”
“I don’t believe it. We never kept secrets from each other.” Sarah clutched her hands so tightly they began to ache.
Ravenhill swallowed. He looked as uncomfortable with being the carrier of such news as she was hearing it.
Pressure inside her chest mounted. “Strathford already survived one explosion? Do you
While she usually enjoyed visiting with her friends, Sarah had spent the last hour searching for an excuse to see them on their way. Mr Ravenhill’s unexpected arrival made her wonder what he’d found. It took every ounce of her self-control to keep her curiosity in check. Once or twice she’d nearly bitten a hole in her cheek to keep from asking something that would reveal their association.
Much as she’d tried not to think about him, he’d been in her thoughts almost constantly. His injuries appeared to be healing, but what of his head trauma? Odd little hesitations made it seem as if he was in the midst of some inner struggle, at times unable to decide what to say or do.
She’d never had such an urge to mother a man, to take him into her arms and tell him everything would be all right. And then… in her imagination, he’d show her the same care and reassurance.
Re-entering her home, she found him alone in the vestibule, turning this way and that… preening. Was he studying or admiring the fit of his fine continental suit in the long mirror? His posturing made her smile. Had she ever met a vainer man?
When he saw her, a corner of his mouth drew up in an ‘aha, you caught me’ kind of grin. Instead of blanching with embarrassment, he shifted his full attention to her. The weight of his admiration nearly caused her to stumble.
He’d a unique combination of strength, intelligence, and more than a dash of self-deprecating humor. And
Mercy!
sometimes when he gazed at her, the heat in his eyes threatened to melt everything inside her. In one sultry glance, he could make her feel as if she were the most wondrous being he’d ever seen. And he was gazing at her like that right now.
In four steps, he closed the distance between them. “Are they on their way?” The inflection in those simple words conjured an invitation that made her next breath shaky.
She nodded. “Has Lumsley left?”
Ravenhill’s smile slipped as he gestured with his chin. “He walked down that hallway.”
“Probably went for the parlor. My brother usually takes his nap in there.”
“I’m glad we have a moment to ourselves.” Ravenhill’s voice dipped to a confidential rumble as he raised his hand to brush back a stray hair from Sarah’s forehead. “Did the countess give you the list?”
Sarah caught a glimpse of his large, muscular hand as he dropped it to his side. A few minor scars decorated it, but there were no recent bruises or cuts. Evidence he’d
not
fought with his attackers. Had they incapacitated him immediately? There’d been a rash of garroting of late. The newspaper explained the technique whereby a wrist bone was used to press against the windpipe. She shuddered at the thought.
Lumsley accused Mr Ravenhill of not being much of a fighter. She’d a hard time believing a man of his size and obvious strength couldn’t defend himself. Still, something seemed off about his injuries. “The countess will see to the list as soon as she arrives home,” she whispered in the echoing vestibule.
I’ve also discovered a few more things that might be important. Are you aware your husband maintained a laboratory in a St Giles warehouse?”
“No!” The information disturbed her more than she wanted to admit. “Are you sure?” Why wouldn’t Edward have told her about it? “I don’t understand. He had an excellent and convenient one right here. How did you find out about this other laboratory?”
“An explosion and fire took place in a portion of one of my father’s warehouses. The tenant was Lord Strathford.”
“I don’t believe it. We never kept secrets from each other.” Sarah clutched her hands so tightly they began to ache.
Ravenhill swallowed. He looked as uncomfortable with being the carrier of such news as she was hearing it.
Pressure inside her chest mounted. “Strathford already survived one explosion? Do you
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