continue the charade a while longer. And you must stay close to home.” He drove through Berkeley Square to Mount Street.
Kate swallowed. “What has happened?”
“Carrothers has traveled to Somerset to, er, dispossess your uncle and his spawn of your property.”
“Gillender House? They went to Gillender?” Anger infected Kate’s soul. She could not bear to think of Herbert and Osborn in her home.
“Indeed they did. We received a missive from one Tompkins in that regard.” The curricle crossed Park Lane, evading the cross-traffic.
“Tompkins has been our butler for an age, since my father’s day.”
“He seems to be quite a responsible fellow, but not Badham’s equal. He was unable to eject the Earl even after an appeal to the local magistrate.”
“That’s an outrage!” Kate’s fists clenched, gripping her reticule.
“Yes.” Upon entering the park, Quinn slowed the pair. Taking the reins into one hand, he awkwardly patted Kate’s fists with the other. “But not to worry, sweet Kate. I’ve sent Carrothers off with all the proper documents. We’ll have them sent off in a trice.”
“Will they come here?”
The horses set off while Quinn answered, appearing to consider his words well. “I don’t know.
That would be logical. But then again, I thought they’d come directly to London and enlist the help of the Bow Street Runners. Badham has not yet come to town, so we’re still several steps ahead of him.”
“In what way?”
He smiled at Kate. Although concerned about her future, she could not help but be cheered.
“We have applied to the House of Lords for help and he has not. We have hired the Bow Street Runners and he has not.” Quinn, slowing his pair, bowed to a passer-by.
“We have?”
“Yes, Lady Kate. Don’t refine upon the matter, I beg of you. Everything that could possibly be done for your safety has taken place.” Quinn guided the curricle past a stylish coach complete with postilions uniformed in pale blue and cream, apparently to match the equipage before which they rode. An elderly lady, in an old-fashioned, powdered wig, waved her fan from the carriage at Quinn, who bowed in response as the woman stared at Kate.
Kate lowered her eyelids demurely while restraining a giggle. The lady apparently set great stock in complementary colors, since she was bedecked in cream and blue like her coach. She looked as though she were about to fly away on a cloud. The manes and tails of her creamy-hued horses, braided with blue ribbons, seemed absurd and affected to country-bred Kate. She sighed inwardly.
Would there ever come a time when she would feel comfortable in the whirling throngs of London?
Quinn, having reached the Serpentine, slowed the horses to a stop. He handed the reins to his tiger.
Alighting, he reached for Kate. “Come, let us walk.” She allowed him to assist her from the curricle, but lost her balance on the small step and fell straight into his arms.
Quick as a flash, he clasped her about the waist.
Her feet dangled above the ground, but she’d never felt so safe…or so threatened. Quinn’s scent, spicy and compelling, enveloped her. He held her so closely that she feared her ribs might not survive the experience intact.
“Kate,” he said, looking down into her face. He sounded curiously breathless.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the heat in his chocolate brown eyes. Loosening his grip, he let her body slide down his. From top to toe, Kate tingled with heat and desire. She grasped his shoulders. She didn’t want to let him go.
A shout from Quinn’s tiger tore them apart. She stumbled back, away from Quinn, regaining her balance as he steadied her. Looking about, she realized that the intimate moment had gone unnoticed by the fashionables parading through the park; no one seemed to be watching. Even Quinn’s tiger was busy with the horses. Good. She had no desire to be labeled “fast” months before she planned to make her
Kate swallowed. “What has happened?”
“Carrothers has traveled to Somerset to, er, dispossess your uncle and his spawn of your property.”
“Gillender House? They went to Gillender?” Anger infected Kate’s soul. She could not bear to think of Herbert and Osborn in her home.
“Indeed they did. We received a missive from one Tompkins in that regard.” The curricle crossed Park Lane, evading the cross-traffic.
“Tompkins has been our butler for an age, since my father’s day.”
“He seems to be quite a responsible fellow, but not Badham’s equal. He was unable to eject the Earl even after an appeal to the local magistrate.”
“That’s an outrage!” Kate’s fists clenched, gripping her reticule.
“Yes.” Upon entering the park, Quinn slowed the pair. Taking the reins into one hand, he awkwardly patted Kate’s fists with the other. “But not to worry, sweet Kate. I’ve sent Carrothers off with all the proper documents. We’ll have them sent off in a trice.”
“Will they come here?”
The horses set off while Quinn answered, appearing to consider his words well. “I don’t know.
That would be logical. But then again, I thought they’d come directly to London and enlist the help of the Bow Street Runners. Badham has not yet come to town, so we’re still several steps ahead of him.”
“In what way?”
He smiled at Kate. Although concerned about her future, she could not help but be cheered.
“We have applied to the House of Lords for help and he has not. We have hired the Bow Street Runners and he has not.” Quinn, slowing his pair, bowed to a passer-by.
“We have?”
“Yes, Lady Kate. Don’t refine upon the matter, I beg of you. Everything that could possibly be done for your safety has taken place.” Quinn guided the curricle past a stylish coach complete with postilions uniformed in pale blue and cream, apparently to match the equipage before which they rode. An elderly lady, in an old-fashioned, powdered wig, waved her fan from the carriage at Quinn, who bowed in response as the woman stared at Kate.
Kate lowered her eyelids demurely while restraining a giggle. The lady apparently set great stock in complementary colors, since she was bedecked in cream and blue like her coach. She looked as though she were about to fly away on a cloud. The manes and tails of her creamy-hued horses, braided with blue ribbons, seemed absurd and affected to country-bred Kate. She sighed inwardly.
Would there ever come a time when she would feel comfortable in the whirling throngs of London?
Quinn, having reached the Serpentine, slowed the horses to a stop. He handed the reins to his tiger.
Alighting, he reached for Kate. “Come, let us walk.” She allowed him to assist her from the curricle, but lost her balance on the small step and fell straight into his arms.
Quick as a flash, he clasped her about the waist.
Her feet dangled above the ground, but she’d never felt so safe…or so threatened. Quinn’s scent, spicy and compelling, enveloped her. He held her so closely that she feared her ribs might not survive the experience intact.
“Kate,” he said, looking down into her face. He sounded curiously breathless.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the heat in his chocolate brown eyes. Loosening his grip, he let her body slide down his. From top to toe, Kate tingled with heat and desire. She grasped his shoulders. She didn’t want to let him go.
A shout from Quinn’s tiger tore them apart. She stumbled back, away from Quinn, regaining her balance as he steadied her. Looking about, she realized that the intimate moment had gone unnoticed by the fashionables parading through the park; no one seemed to be watching. Even Quinn’s tiger was busy with the horses. Good. She had no desire to be labeled “fast” months before she planned to make her
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