Alathea locked both hands on her parasol handle and prayed he wouldn't commandeer one.
His eyes met hers, then his brow quirked. "I don't bite," he murmured, as he halted beside her. "At least," he amended, voice deepening, "not in public."
Awareness swept her; she felt her blush rise. He viewed the sight, his brow quirked again, then he turned and surveyed the group moving far ahead of them. "I suppose we'd better keep them in sight."
"Indeed." Alathea stepped out; he fell in beside her.
"Have you heard from Wiggs yet?"
"No-his appointment was scheduled for eleven." It was only just past noon.
"Will you be at the Clares' ball tonight?"
"Yes."
"Good-I'll meet you there."
Alathea nodded. That was one benefit of the countess's unmasking; they could now easily meet to exchange information. "I read that explorer's book, at least the relevant parts."
As she jiggled her parasol and dug into her reticule, she felt Gabriel's gaze on her face.
"Burning the midnight oil?"
She flicked him a glance. She didn't need him to tell her she had rings under her eyes. "When else would I get time to read?"
The tartness of the reply had no discernible effect. "Running yourself ragged isn't going to help. What's this?" He took the sheet she thrust at him.
"That's the description the explorer gave of those three towns."
He perused it as they strolled; his brows gradually rose. "How very interesting. When was this explorer in these parts?"
"Only early last year. The book's just been published." Alathea leaned closer, peering at the sheet. She tapped one paragraph. "As I recall, Crowley said the company had purchased a large building in Fangak from some French government agency to house the workers involved in the construction of the company's mines. According to the explorer, Fangak is 'a collection of flimsy wooden huts far from civilization'."
"Crowley also said Lodwar was on a major road. Instead, it appears to be a tiny settlement halfway up a rugged mountainside, 'well away from the beaten track'."
Alathea glanced at his face. "It's evidence, isn't it?"
He looked at her, then nodded. Folding the note, he slipped it into his pocket. "But we'll need more." He looked at the group ahead of them. "How's that shaping?"
"Promisingly. Esher becomes more definite by the day, while Carstairs…" Tilting her head, Alathea considered the young gentleman. "I think he's trying to screw his courage to the sticking point, but is having a hard time believing that it's actually happened to him."
Gabriel snorted. "Poor bugger."
Alathea pretended not to hear.
They strolled on, following the others, then Gabriel halted. "I'll leave you here."
Alathea turned to him, only to feel his fingers close about hers. He raised her hand and considered it, slim fingers trapped by his. Then he lifted his gaze to her eyes.
She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He was close; because of her height, her parasol shaded them both, creating an illusion of privacy in the middle of the park. They never exchanged the routine pleasantries, touching hands, bowing, but now he held her hand, and her, too; she wondered what he meant to do.
His lips twisted, wry and taunting both. "I'll see you tonight."
He pressed her hand briefly, then released it. With a nod, he left her.
Alathea stood still, breathing evenly, and watched him stride away. Part of her mind noted that he'd left just before their ambling stroll would have brought them into view of the carriage drive, presently lined with the carriages of the ton's matrons, including those of his mother and aunt. The rest of her mind was engrossed with the burning question of what he thought he was about, what tack he intended to take with her.
The situation between them had changed, yet he still wanted her, even though he now knew who she was. He still intended to have her, to continue their illicit liaison; amazing though that seemed, that much was clear.
Very little else was.
With the countess's unmasking, all control of their interaction had passed to him. She was completely in his power, a power she knew better than to imagine he wouldn't, if provoked, wield.
The little group she was watching were drawing ahead. Straightening her parasol, she set out in their wake.
What he had in mind she couldn't begin to guess, any more than she could be sure of his motives. Given their encounters in Bond Street and Bruton Street, let alone the rest, he might well wish to punish her. His present conduct might be a facade, adopted to ease their way while they pursued the company. He was more than honorable enough to put aside his own feelings until they'd dealt with the threat. Then he might consider retribution.
Luckily, he rarely held a grudge. By the time their investigations were complete, it was possible, even likely, that his interest in her would have waned, that he would have grown bored and shifted his sights to his next conquest.
A frown in her eyes, Alathea climbed the slope to the carriage drive, and wondered why the prospect of him growing bored with her and thus abandoning any notion of retribution did not bring her any sense of ease.
Chapter 14
Lady Clare's ball was yet another unrelenting crush.
The Season was in full swing and everyone simply had to be seen at all the major events. Finally gaining Alathea's side, Gabriel cast a malevolent glance over the jostling throng. "Manic," he muttered.
Lord Montgomery, presently holding Alathea's attention, thought the jibe aimed at him. He bristled. Smiling serenely, Alathea pretended she hadn't heard. "Have your mama and sister come up to town this year?"
Faced with such unequivocal interest, his lordship's hackles subsided. With a disdainful glance at Gabriel, he intoned, "Indeed, indeed! They are, naturally, concerned as to the future of the estate. Why-"
Recently afflicted with a conviction that she would be just the wife for him, his lordship droned on. Alathea let her smile glide over the other eager faces, but did not linger long enough to encourage any to interrupt with his own tale. Completing her circuit brought her glance to Gabriel; he caught it, irritation behind his hazel eyes. He hesitated, then, to her surprise, reached out and took the hand she hadn't thought to offer him. He held it, waiting with studied patience until Lord Montgomery's monologue rolled to a close, then he bowed. As he straightened, Alathea, off-balance and mystified, saw concern color his expression.
"My dear, you're rather pale."
My dear? She nearly goggled.
Gabriel anchored her hand on his sleeve, drawing her within his protective orbit. "Perhaps a stroll outside… before you faint from the stuffiness."
She'd never fainted in her life. Her gaze trapped in his, Alathea waved a hand weakly before her face. "It is rather hot in here."
His brow quirked; one corner of his lips did, too. "The doors to the terrace are open…"
The suggestion was greeted with numerous offers to accompany them; obedient to the fingers squeezing hers, Alathea smiled wanly. "The noise…" She gestured limply. "A few moments of absolute quiet would help, and then I'll be able to return to you."
With that, they had to be content. Gabriel excised her from the circle and steered her down the room. Alathea hoped it appeared that he was dragging her off in brotherly fashion-for her own good-but the speculative frowns in too many eyes made her itch to box his ears. Next, he'd have the scandalmongers watching them avidly, and God only knew what they might see.