“I’m going to settle twenty thousand pounds on him tomorrow. It isn’t enough. There could never be enough.”
Jessica’s smile disappeared as if it had never been, as if the light had never come back into her eyes. “Now you want Richard to sell me?”
“Oh, God. Damn! That wasn’t what I intended. Marry me, Jessica, don’t marry me. Richard still gets the settlement, the two of you get your damn inn or whatever you want. But we want answers, or at least I do, and you want to protect your brother. Become my countess, and you can go into society with me, we can do our own investigating. Trixie is…I don’t know how much she knows, how much she didn’t tell us.”
Jessica got to her feet, smoothed down her gown. “You sensed it, too? For all she said, I think she may have been holding something back. I can understand that. He was her son, after all, and he was a monster.”
“A monster, yes. Playing a very dangerous game.” Gideon rose, as well. “So she seemed frightened to you, as well, handing out her warnings about your brother? Trixie isn’t the sort to be frightened.”
“It wouldn’t be natural if she wasn’t frightened. People are dying, Gideon, people who knew the sort of things she knows. She says no one would dare touch her—but can she be sure?”
“Can any of us be sure of anything? We also have to consider Adam. You’d be with him, residing under the same strong, well-guarded roof. He’s young, Jessica, just as you were young. But not nearly so strong as his sister. If they’re keeping to the devil’s thirteen, your father’s vacant seat needs to be filled. Adam could be approached, you said so yourself.”
“I know what I said, you needn’t keep beating me over the head with my own words, you know.” She seemed to search his face with her eyes, as if hunting some escape route. “There’s no other way to go about it?”
He had her on the ropes now, he could see it. He was a Redgrave, so he would push his advantage. And, yes, please God, he would sleep nights.
“I’m the Earl of Saltwood. I have a reputation, God help me, but at times it serves me well. My countess will be accepted everywhere. Nobody would dare to deny you. If our murderer is in society, we need to be there, as well. I haven’t stepped inside Almacks in years, nor do I usually attend every damn ball and rout and picnic that litters the Season. But with a fiancée, a new bride on my arm? I’d be expected to make all the rounds. Invitations from the curious will pile up on my mantelpiece like snow. Perhaps several from members of the Society, anxious to see Linden’s widow. We won’t have to search them out, Jessica, they’ll come to us. I pride myself on being observant, but you’ve the better of me there, I’m convinced of that. And then there are the widows, the wives. It should be easier going for you to gain their confidence than me. It’s all logical.”
“Logical. I suppose so. But I don’t want to marry you. I vowed never to marry again. A woman has no power beyond the will of her husband.”
“No power?” He touched a hand to her cheek and kept it there. When he spoke again, his tone was soft, perhaps even tender. “You sincerely don’t know, do you? How beautiful you are, how desirable, what an extraordinarily strong, brave and special woman you’ve made of yourself against all odds. You have no idea how you can figuratively take me to the floor just by looking at me. I’m not going to go down on one knee to profess some undying love for you. You’re too intelligent to swallow such a bag of moonshine. In part I’m attempting to pay a debt my family owes you, thanks indirectly to the actions of my father and grandfather. I’m attempting to soothe my own conscience for what happened here the other night. I admit that freely also. But know this, as well, Jessica soonnever-again-to-be-Linden, I would never, never intentionally hurt you.”
A single tear ran down her cheek, burning his skin.
“You’re a fool, Gideon Redgrave, and arrogant into the bargain. Nobody can save the world, you know, not even you. Yes, all right, I see the wisdom in marrying you.”
Gideon covered his relief with a chuckle. “My sister has said the Redgraves are the least romantical people in all of England. You’ll fit in very well. Now, to seal the betrothal?”
He leaned in and kissed her. On the cheek. Bloody hell, on the cheek.
But that was now. He could scarcely have heard what she and Richard had told him this past hour and dare to attempt anything more. The ancient Greek was right: timing is in all things the most important factor. He’d had her beneath him, he’d felt her first stirrings of fire; he could awaken her even more, teach her pleasure she could still not possibly imagine. He knew what awaited him, awaited them both, if he was patient, and he was very good at being patient.
He left her where she stood and strode into her bedchamber, returning moments later with James Linden’s wadded-up banyan clutched in one angry fist. “This doesn’t come to Portman Square with you,” he said, holding it aloft as he headed for the stairs.
He didn’t look back, but he hoped she was smiling… .
CHAPTER NINE
“I SUPPOSE IT WILL DO,” Adam Collier said, sighing disappointedly as he made his way around Jessica, taking a full circuit in his red-heeled shoes, quizzing glass stuck to his eye. “But perhaps too crushingly ordinary? I mean, really—lavender? Must we?” He waved the glass at the hovering modiste. “Bows. That’s what’s needed. At the hem, on those capped sleeves. Yes, that’s the very thing. I’m never wrong. See to it, woman.”
Jessica rolled her eyes as she looked into the mirror at her reflection. “Bows, Adam? We’re in mourning, remember? By rights, I shouldn’t be going into society at all. You may escape with that ridiculous black band, but I can hardly pretend Papa and Clarissa aren’t barely in their graves. Even if he did publicly disown me for eloping with James.”
“I had that wrong, didn’t I? You didn’t eat bad fish, you married it.” Adam shrugged eloquently in his tightly fitted swan tailcoat. “I was young, and not told much of anything. Your name simply wasn’t to be mentioned again. Mama explained that, though.”
“Oh? And how did that explanation go, precisely?”
“It pained Papa to think of you, of course.” Adam snatched up one of the hastily constructed bows made up of the same lavender silk and held it to the center of Jessica’s bodice. “No, not there. Yes, just as I first thought, on the sleeves, and then a dozen more, dancing about the hem. And perhaps dusted with something sparkling? I do adore sparkles. A pity we men can’t embellish ourselves with brilliance. Although Papa used to sprinkle glittering dust in with the powder for his wig on special occasions, as I recall it. Vain man, our father, and he would persist in clinging to his periwig even after the fashion so clearly changed. He should have seen himself after the fire. No amount of glitter could have been any help to him then, hmm?”
“Adam!” Jessica pulled him closer, ignoring his near shriek of alarm as she wrinkled his neck cloth in her fist. “Take a moment to think where we are,” she whispered in warning. “Someone could overhear you. Imagine Gideon’s reaction.”
Adam carefully disengaged himself from her grip, then anxiously fluffed at the lacy cravat. “I’d rather not, thank you. I’d rather not think about him at all. Are you quite sure you want to