Greythorne chuckled. ‘A pity. I fancy her myself.’ His arm swept the area. ‘As do others. Tannerton may be in for a serious contest.’
Greythorne possessed enough wealth to pose a threat. If he offered a great deal of money to put Rose under his protection, Flynn had no doubt Miss Dawes would bully O’Keefe into accepting. She’d have no qualms about selling Rose to the highest bidder.
Flynn regarded the man. ‘I am certain, as a gentleman, you would not covet what another man has claimed as his.’
Greythorne’s slippery smile remained. ‘Her father does not seem to agree with your perception. He seemed to indicate the game was still in progress.’
It was as if dark clouds suddenly gathered. ‘The deal is all but made,’ Flynn said.
Greythorne continued walking. ‘I would be the last man to encroach,’ he assured Flynn. ‘But if the deal is not made, I’m prepared to play my hand.’
Chapter Four
The next day was as sunny as any summer day could be in London as Flynn navigated the streets of Covent Garden on the way to Rose’s lodgings. Tanner had wholeheartedly endorsed this escapade, especially after hearing of Greythorne’s interest.
‘Something about that fellow,’ Tanner had said. ‘I have always detested the man. Damned natty, for one thing. Never a speck of dirt, or a wrinkle in his coat. Every hair in place. Devilish odd.’ Tanner had shuddered. ‘Something else, though. I shall endeavour to discover what it is.’
Tanner had insisted Flynn take his curricle and the matched chestnuts, which had cost him a fortune at Tattersalls.
Flynn brought the curricle to a halt in front of Rose’s building. He tossed a coin to a boy passing by, asking the lad to hold the horses. As he climbed the stairs to knock upon Rose’s door, his excitement grew, an excitement he had no right to feel.
The door opened and there she stood, green paisley shawl draped over the same dress she’d worn when he last visited these rooms, hat and gloves already on. If she could appear this beautiful in a plain dress, think of how she would look in all the finery Tanner could buy her.
He frowned as she turned to close the door. He must keep Tanner in mind. Wrest control over this tendency to be bewitched.
But his resolve frayed as his hands spanned her waist to lift her into the curricle. And frayed more when she smiled down at him.
He climbed up next to her, and the boy handed him the ribbons. ‘Hyde Park, is that correct?’ he asked her.
‘It does not have to be Hyde Park,’ she replied in a breathless voice.
‘Where then?’
The sun rendered her skin translucent, and he had the urge to pull off his gloves and touch her with the tip of his finger.
‘Anywhere you wish,’ she whispered.
They stared at each other.
‘Hyde Park, then,’ he said finally.
He flicked the ribbons and the horses started forward. He drove through the riders, wagons, carriages, and hacks on Long Acre towards Piccadilly. ‘Your father gave you permission for this outing, I trust.’
‘He and Letty are out,’ she responded. ‘So there was no objection.’
She had not really answered him, he realised. He thought of asking for an explanation. Why did she appear to be under her father’s control, yet also out in the world with the likes of her friend Katy Green?
‘It is a fine day,’ he said instead.
‘Yes, it is.’ She changed positions and her hand brushed his leg as she readjusted her skirt.
He felt her touch long after her hand closed upon the bench to steady herself.
Flynn mentally shook himself, and concentrated on what he intended to accomplish. He must give her Tanner’s gift, the finest emerald ring Flynn could find at Rundell and Bridge. He must offer her Tanner’s patronage and propose a time and place for her to meet Tanner.
And he must ensure she spurned Greythorne.
As the curricle reached the Hyde Park gate, Flynn felt back in form. ‘Have you driven through the park before, Rose?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she replied, with no elaboration.
He was again reminded that she was no green girl, but it only forced him to wonder who her former escorts had been.
The fine day had brought many others to the park. Governesses with young children, servants and shopworkers, all taking respite from their toil. Fine gentlemen drove carriages accompanied by gaily dressed female companions—their mistresses, no doubt. Flynn knew some of these men, though he knew better than to nod in greeting. Later in the day some of these same gentlemen would return to this same carriage path to drive their wives or some respectable miss they were courting.
It occurred to Flynn that, if he did his job successfully, Tanner would soon be sitting in his place in this same curricle with Rose beside him. He frowned.
‘What makes you unhappy?’ she asked.
He started and looked over to see Rose staring at him, her lips pursed with concern.
‘I am not unhappy, I assure you.’
One brow arched. ‘You looked unhappy, I was thinking.’
With effort he composed his features into their usual bland expression. ‘I am not unhappy. Merely concentrating on driving.’
She faced forward again to watch the few carriages approaching them at a leisurely pace. ‘Yes, it is so treacherous here.’
He ignored her teasing and changed the subject. ‘Do you enjoy carriage rides?’
‘I do,’ she replied, smiling again.
‘The marquess has several carriages,’ he said, dutifully promoting Tanner’s interest. ‘This one, of course, and a phaeton, a landaulet—’
‘How nice,’ she said without enthusiasm.
He persevered. ‘He also has been known to purchase carriages for special friends.’
‘Yes. Special friends.’ She showed no increased interest.
Flynn gave her a sideways glance. Most women would leap at the chance to receive this man’s regard. The advantages were inestimable. ‘He is a generous man, Rose. I can provide you many examples to prove it, if you wish.’
She gave him an imploring look. ‘Please do not.’
He frowned again, pretending to concentrate on the horses and the carriage path. Finally he asked, ‘What is it, Rose? Every time I mention the marquess, you put me off. Perhaps if you could explain why, I would proceed in a manner to please you.’
Two spots of colour dotted her cheeks. ‘Oh, I have nothing against the man …’
Flynn waited for her to say more. The horses waited, too, almost slowing to a stop. He flicked the ribbons and they moved again. The Serpentine came into view, its water glistening in the afternoon sun.
‘It is pretty here,’ she said after a time.
He forgot about Tanner. Against the green of the grass, lushness of the trees and blue of the Serpentine, she looked like a Gainsborough portrait. He wished he could capture her image, frame it and hang it upon a wall to gaze at for ever.
He closed his eyes. This was madness, coveting his employer’s intended