Ann Lethbridge

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crossed his face: guilt. She frowned. ‘Did you know they were still in the area?’
    ‘I suspected it. I should have warned you.’
    So it was guilt. ‘Yes, you should have.’
    He huffed out a breath. ‘It would not have been necessary had you stayed where I left you.’
    Now she felt guilty. ‘Well, I am certainly glad you came along at the right time.’
    He glanced around. ‘Where is the tinker you came here to meet?’
    She shook her head. ‘I have no idea. He ran off when he saw you.’
    Should she mention the gypsy’s knife? She hesitated a moment too long and Mr Gilvry’s face hardened as if he guessed she was holding something back. ‘It is back to the dressmaker’s with you, Lady Jenna. And then home to Carrick Castle.’
    ‘Carrick is not my home.’ She belonged to Braemuir. Heart and soul, though no one else seemed to understand her devotion.
    He marched her though the crowds as if she was the criminal, not the man who had accosted her. And yet she did not mind the feel of his hand in the small of her back, the warmth of his large body, and the protection it offered. Should she say something about her suspicion that the man had sought her out? He had probably figured that out for himself.
    As he hurried her along, she caught a glimpse of the gypsy. He was watching them with dark unfathomable eyes. She wondered if she should point him out to Mr Gilvry, but before she could do so, the man faded from sight. Besides, if Mr Hughes trusted him, she should too. The person she must not trust was Niall Gilvry.
    * * *
    When they got back to the seamstress’s, Campbell already had the carriage waiting outside. He and Mary were deep in conversation at the horse’s heads.
    ‘Are you finished here?’ Mr Gilvry asked Jenna, nodding towards the shop.
    She mentally winced. ‘Not quite.’
    He sighed. ‘Verra well, let us go in. Miss Mary, your presence is required.’ He opened the door.
    ‘You don’t need to come with me.’
    He gave her a look that spoke volumes. Anger. Frustration. And something hotter than either, though he was doing his best to damp it down.
    An answering glow sparked in her own veins. Like a child playing near the fire, the closer she got to him, the more likely she was to burn. But there was something about him that made him hard to resist. And that made him dangerous.
    With a shiver, she let him take her arm and escort her into the shop.

Chapter Four
    J enna couldn’t sleep. After an hour or so of tossing and turning, she’d given up and had moved to the window seat to gaze out into the night. Was it simply by chance that ruffian had been there in the market place? One of them had said something on the road, and it only just now had returned to her. You are sure this is the one? The one what?
    It wasn’t only the ruffian intruding on her rest. She kept seeing Mr Gilvry, at first furious at her trickery, but then reaching for her, pulling her close, kissing her. Not a quick touch of his mouth, but something far more erotic, a melding that made her body burn with longing. The vision had sent her fleeing from her bed.
    She glanced over at the tumbled bedcovers. Her mind was going around and around far too quickly for her ever to fall asleep.
    She picked up the book she’d finished earlier. She could read it again. Or she could go to the library and choose another one. It might help her sleep. Something boring, like a treatise on sheep-raising. Or something a little more risqué , like a book of Gillray’s cartoons. Except that would make her laugh and keep her awake.
    No, something deadly dull was in order. She pulled on her robe, shoved her feet in her slippers, lit a new candle from the stub in the candlestick on her bedside table, and headed for the library.
    She was surprised to see a glimmer of light spilling out into the hallway from the slightly open door. She frowned. Surely the butler would not have left candles alight before retiring for the night. It would be the height

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