His smile became predatory.
‘Well, if you cannot dine with me, perhaps a little kiss—’
He lunged at her. Dominique whisked herself away, but not before his fingers caught the muslin fichu tucked decorously into the neck of her summer gown. It slipped from her shoulders as she retreated behind the sofa, anger blazing through her.
‘How dare you?’ She glared at him. ‘I came here in good faith, monsieur. I thought as a fellow countryman I could trust you!’
‘And so you can, madame.’ He held out his arms. ‘All I ask is a little kiss from you and I shall let you go.’
‘Do you think I am a fool?’ She snatched up the poker from the hearth. ‘Stand away from the door, monsieur.’
He looked a little startled, but made no attempt to move out of her way. Dominique was enraged, but she was well aware that the Frenchman had the advantage of strength and size. She was debating what to do next when swift footsteps were heard on the stairs and a familiar voice sounded from the landing.
‘No need to come with me, my man. I know the way.’
The door opened and with a smothered exclamation Raymond jumped aside, his eyes narrowing as Gideon appeared, his frame almost filling the doorway.
Dominique stared. To her amazement her husband merely smiled at her.
‘My apologies, my dear, have I kept you waiting? I was delayed, don’t you know, in Piccadilly.’
Gideon uttered the words cheerfully as he came in and closed the door behind him. He had entered the room with every nerve-end tingling, prepared for a brawl, but when he had opened the door to see his wife brandishing a poker to keep her would-be seducer at bay his worst fears were alleviated. In fact, he had a strong inclination to laugh.
‘I think, my dear, you can dispense with the weapon now.’
She lowered the poker.
‘How did you know where to find me?’
‘A simple deduction.’ He glanced at Lamotte, who was silently watching him, a guilty scowl darkening his countenance. ‘What inducement did you use to entice my wife here?’
Nicky said quickly, ‘He told me he could help me find my father.’
Gideon raised a brow. ‘And can you, monsieur? I thought not,’ he added drily as Lamotte shrugged. He picked up the fichu from the floor and handed it to Dominique. ‘Here, madam. Put this on and your coat, too. I shall escort you home.’
She took the muslin scarf from him, but made no move to put it on. Instead she stood twisting it between her hands, her dark anxious gaze fixed on his face.
‘B-but I have been seen here. The landlord and the waiters who brought in the dinner—’
‘The landlord now believes you came here looking for me and as for the waiters, I think our friend here will be able to silence them.’ He turned to Lamotte, placing the tip of his cane against the Frenchman’s silk waistcoat. ‘Let me make myself very clear,’ he said icily. ‘If the slightest hint of scandal attaches to my wife’s being here, monsieur, then I shall take great pleasure in calling you out and despatching you. Do you understand me?’
Lamotte shook his head.
‘Believe me, I never meant any harm to madame.’
‘No.’ Gideon’s eyes narrowed. ‘You were put up to this by another, were you not?’ The flash of fear that crossed the Frenchman’s face gave Gideon his answer. His lip curling, he gave the cane a little push, sending Lamotte staggering back.
Dominique had put on her pelisse and was now watching them. Gideon opened the door, saying loudly,
‘I am very grateful to you, monsieur, for looking after my wife until I could join you. But we will not keep you any longer from your dinner. Adieu, sir!’
He flourished a bow and held out his hand to Dominique. She picked up a sheet of paper from one of the armchairs and stuffed it into her reticule before crossing the room to join him.
‘It is the information about my father,’ she said in response to his enquiring gaze. ‘It will not be needed now.’
She bent a look of burning reproach upon Lamotte, who had the grace to hang his head.
‘I beg your pardon, madame.’
Gideon took her arm.
‘Come, my dear.’
He escorted her down the stairs and out into the street. As they walked away from the lodging house Dominique gave a little sob.
‘I am so very sorry, Gideon. It was foolish of me to go there alone. I should have told you...’
‘And why did you not?’
‘B-because he said that success in finding out about Papa depended upon the utmost secrecy.’
Gideon looked down at her bowed head.
‘But that is not all, is it? You thought I should refuse to sanction this line of enquiry.’
‘Yes.’ Her reply was so quiet he almost missed it. He sighed.
‘Am I such an ogre, Nicky?’
‘Oh, no, no!’ She stopped and turned towards him. ‘You are not an ogre at all, but your abhorrence of all things French—’ She bit her lip. ‘But in this case you were right to be suspicious of Monsieur Lamotte and—and I beg your pardon.’
He squeezed her hand.
‘It was not totally your fault, Nicky.’
She was silent for a while, but as they walked out into St James’s Street, she said slowly, ‘You said someone else was behind this. Do you think it was my cousin?’
‘I not only think it, my dear, I am sure of it.’
She gave an angry little growl.
‘Ooh, of all the odious—’ She stopped. ‘There he is now, across the street with his cronies! And he has seen us. Let us confront him. I would like to scratch his eyes out!’
‘I have a much better idea,’ he said, catching her chin between his thumb and finger. ‘We will show him that his plan to cause trouble between us has not worked at all.’
He lowered his head and kissed her.
* * *
Dominique’s heart stopped and she forgot all about being angry with Max. She forgot about everything, save the soaring pleasure that filled her whole being. Gideon was still holding her chin so she could not pull away, even if she had wanted to do so, which she did not. His lips were gentle, it was the lightest of kisses and she found herself standing on tiptoe to prolong the moment. When at last he raised his head he was smiling down at her, such a glint in his eyes that she wanted to reach up and pull him down so she could kiss him again.
‘Is he still watching us?’ he murmured.
‘Who?’ She ran her tongue round her lips, trying to drag her mind away from the distracting cleft in his chin and the seductive curve of his lips.
He laughed, settled her arm firmly in his and began to walk on.
‘Your cousin is standing on the far pavement and staring at us as if he cannot believe his eyes. Look across, my dear, and smile while I tip my hat to him—like so. There, is that not more satisfying than, er, scratching his eyes out?’
Dominique chuckled even as she smiled and nodded at Max, who was glowering across the road at them.
‘It is amusing to