A Lady for the Taking Page 4

  “Of course, Mr. Greer. I would be honored.” Actually, the lady looked as if she would rather be on her way to Newgate, Harry decided, as he took Lady Penny’s hand in the crook of his arm and led her onto the already-crowded dance floor. He didn’t think that reaction was because of his lack of charm.

  Secrets, on the other hand, were an entirely different matter.

  “Shall we?” Harry reached out to take her hand in his and almost yelped out loud at the shock that pulsed through his body the moment they touched, even through a double layer of fabric. It was likely only a small static charge, but it still made him jump back a bit. Given Lady Penny’s wide-eyed expression, she had felt the shock as well and it had made her just as uncomfortable.

  Good. That was good. He wanted her uncomfortable. At least for the moment.

  He would just prefer not to be uncomfortable. Made it damned hard to do his job if he was.

  “Of course.” Once more, Harry could tell this woman would probably prefer to swallow tacks than waltz with him, but the smile on her face remained serene. Almost placid. And perfectly polite. But also entirely insincere.

  He was the master of insincere smiles these days so he should know.

  Briefly, Harry wondered if that was how he had appeared to Dory for the better part of the Little Season last year. There but not. Pretending that he was still infatuated with her when it was nothing more than an intense friendship. Now that he was on the receiving end of one of those smiles, he found that he didn’t like it. He also realized that he had been unfair to Dory in the process. He vowed to apologize the next time he saw her. Provided she was still speaking to him, of course.

  Once the music began, there was no time for idle talk as Harry concentrated on learning how this woman moved. For some reason, he could not dance with a woman, particularly a waltz, if he had no idea how a lady moved her body or how her hips swayed when she walked. So, for the moment, Harry simply allowed himself to feel Penny’s body in his arms and learn the sway of her hips. The curve of her back. The weight of her arms. The gentle slump of her shoulders.

  Harry learned how her body leaned into his at every third turn as if her right knee did not quite bend correctly all of the time. He learned that she preferred a softer stance and adjusted the way he held her to accommodate for that. She might fear him – and he knew she did because he could see that fear in her eyes – but her body had a mind of its own and, within a few minutes, they were all but melded together, her body seeking out the warmth of his as if they had done this many times before.

  Finally, content that they were settled enough for the remainder of the dance, Harry allowed his gaze to linger on Penny’s lovely face. For she was lovely, even though she was not perfect. Well, Society would likely not view her as perfect. Harry happened to think otherwise.

  Up close, he could see the dark brown streaks in her otherwise golden eyes. He could see the faint hint of green that ringed her pupil and only served to enhance her resemblance to a lioness. Her hair, which had appeared a uniform color under the soft candlelight from wall sconces, actually was made up of numerous shades of blonde when he could finally see her properly. Nearly a dozen different shades by his quick count. Her body was lush and curvy, and her breasts abundant, but she was not heavy or running to fat. There were faint lines at the corners of her eyes and even fainter spots on her face that indicated she might have spent quite a bit of time in the sun at some point in her life.

  He estimated that she was around four and twenty or five and twenty in age, though possibly older. Not younger, for her eyes were too wise in the ways of the world. And, like his own eyes, held a hint of weariness along with something rather vague that spoke to a life lived intensely rather than a life of leisure.

  She was also clearly afraid of him. Despite her body’s desire to curve into his, she still held herself a bit apart at times, her shoulders stiff on occasion and her neck straight.

  It was when Harry was looking at her neck, however, that he noticed the first tell-tale sign that her life likely hadn’t been a fairy tale. There, just beneath her left collarbone and curving outward toward her shoulder was a thin, curved line that seemed to waver every so often where it crossed her lovely skin. The mark was so faint that it was almost imperceptible but actually rather visible when seen next to the slightly darker fabric of her gown. The sort of mark that a whip left behind if it was wielded by an unskilled person out to hurt rather than gently discipline.

  In Harry’s line of work, he knew far more about what went on in brothels, gaming hells, and gentlemen’s bedchambers than even the most jaded of gentlemen. Among other horrors, he had seen the bodies of whores who had been beaten to death by men who loved to punish rather than pleasure. And this mark on Penny’s otherwise flawless skin? It was a remnant of pain, not pleasure.

  Inexplicably, Harry’s blood began to boil at the thought of anyone striking this lovely creature but he fought to keep his responses under control. This woman was nothing to him. Or nothing more than a mystery to be solved, anyway. And once he had solved the riddle of her, then that would be the end of their association.

  Still, for the moment, she was the puzzle put before him, mostly because Julia seemed to wish it. And Julia was the Bloody Duke’s sister. Therefore, what Julia wanted, she would get. Harry would not want to get on Nick’s bad side, after all. Too much risk of one ending up missing a body part if that should happen.

  The fact that Harry was insanely attracted to this woman had nothing to do with his desire to uncover her secrets and see what lay beneath that pretty lavender gown – metaphorically speaking, of course. Nothing at all. This investigation, such as it was, was purely for Julia’s sake. And because Harry liked all of his limbs firmly attached to his body. But those were the only reasons. The fact that this woman felt as if she belonged in his arms in a way no woman – not even Dory – ever had had nothing to do with his need to discover more about her. Not in the least.

  “So you are new to London.” Harry decided the silence had stretched on between them long enough. He also did not say those words as a question.

  “What makes you say that?” There was a hint of panic in Lady Penny’s – or did she prefer Penelope, despite what Julia had said? – eyes, but she quickly tamped it down, meaning she was accustomed to hiding her emotions. Ah, so she was a challenge. He relished a challenge, especially as he was still feeling a bit stung from Dory’s accusations.

  Harry pasted that old, polite but insincere smile back on his face. Two could play at this game. He also knew who would win if they did play. “You were being introduced to many Society women who have been amongst the town’s premier hostesses for the last several years. Given your age, you would likely know them already if you were not new to town. You are probably here in search of a husband, as all young women are, given your style of dress.” He shrugged as he pulled her into a turn – another third – and noticed that her knee locked again. “It isn’t difficult to deduce such a thing, you know. Especially not for a Runner.”

  Penny swallowed hard at his words and Harry found his gaze being drawn to the slender column of her throat, wanting to press a kiss there and see if he could feel her pulse pound as he did so. The diamonds glittering there were too much, too ostentatious for an innocent young woman. But was she as innocent as she pretended? Or was this an act? Again, he had no idea but he intended to find out. Sooner rather than later.

  “So you are good at your job then.” Penny shrugged as if his comment mattered little to her, but Harry could see by the tightening at the corners of her eyes that it did matter. “How wonderful for you, sir.”

  Harry supposed she was trying to sound cool and indifferent, but he could hear the trace of fear that bordered on panic in her voice. Whatever game she was playing, she was not very good at it and she would likely lose if she wasn’t careful. Or was that her plan? Was she a master manipulator or a true innocent pushed into a game she did not know and would likely lose? He had no idea
but the longer he held her, the more determined he was to find out.

  Laughing a little in spite of himself, Harry pulled Lady Penny just a little closer than was proper, mostly because he wanted to this time and not because he was trying to pry information out of her, though that was still in the back of his mind. He was gratified when she relaxed a bit, though she likely did so in spite of herself.

  This woman did not trust and with all of the prying eyes on her just then, he did not blame her. Still, his gut told him it was more than that. She had secrets. Secrets that Julia, at the very least, believed were worth uncovering, and like her brother Nick, Julia was rarely wrong. Never wrong, actually.

  Mind made up, Harry pressed on with his gentle yet still probing questions.

  “I would like to think so, though I am certain there are some who would disagree and claim that I am the worst Bow Street has to offer.” Harry looked down at the woman in his arms, noticing that, should he pull her fully against him, she would fit almost perfectly beneath his chin. He should not have noticed. But he did. “And again, my lady, if you were not new to town, you would already know that I am deemed exceptional at what I do, even for a Runner, and we are all rumored to be exceptional. Me more than most, however. All of the papers, including the gossip sheets, say so, anyway.” He rolled his eyes at that, for he didn’t really believe the gossip sheets in that regard.

  This time, it was Lady Penny who did her best not to laugh. She wanted to dislike him; Harry could tell. Yet, at the same time, she could not quite bring herself to do so.

  “A little arrogant, aren’t you?” she challenged and he had the impression that she was not nearly as stiff and proper as she wished to pretend.

  “Perhaps.” This time when Harry grinned at her, his smile was genuine. “But remember, it is the papers that say I am exceptional. I am merely repeating what they report.”

  “So why do I suspect you secretly agree with their assessment of your skills?” For the first time all evening, the lady’s eyes were no longer guarded but open and curious.

  “Because they might be right.” Harry was good. He was damn good. But he wasn’t Nick. Had Lord Nicholas Rosemont needed to work, as Harry did? He would have made an excellent Runner. Possibly the best ever. Harry wasn’t even in Nick’s league in that regard.

  Lady Penny quirked an eyebrow at Harry. “Might be? Now you are being falsely modest and that does not suit you, Mr. Greer. Not at all.”

  Flirting. This mysterious, convoluted woman was flirting with him! Harry might not be so young any longer, but even he knew flirting from a marriageable young woman when he experienced it. That notion did something odd to his stomach, though whether it was because he was flattered or because he was leery, he could not say.

  “Very well.” Harry risked pulling Lady Penny just a tiny bit closer and was rewarded when she inhaled sharply but still did not pull away. That indicated that she liked being close to him, even though her still stiff shoulders hinted that her mind was telling her she should not. “I am good. One of the best, actually, especially among the current Runners. There. Is that better?”

  “It is.” She was amused. He could tell by the quirk of her lips, though again he had the feeling she did not wish to be. “You do not strike me as a man who prevaricates, Mr. Greer. Rather, I think you likely always tell the truth. I also don’t think you much care for secrets.” She said the last word with a slight tremor in her voice, giving Harry yet another hint to the true depths of her unease.

  He also had the sense that, as much as she hadn’t wished to waltz with him at first, she was using the dance as an opportunity to get a sense of him. Meaning that she likely had known who he was even before they had been introduced. Or, if she hadn’t known his identity, she had probably suspected. Well, fair was fair, he supposed, for he was using this waltz to do much the same thing and he suspected she knew it.

  She wasn’t stupid. He could tell that much already. Hiding something, certainly. Pretending to be something of a peagoose? Most likely. Terrified, likely of him? Quite probably. Stupid and foolish? Not at all.

  “No, I am not fond of secrets. Secrets destroy people, Lady Penny.” He paused, deciding to find out the answer to one of his questions right now. “Or do you prefer Lady Penelope?”

  To his surprise, she shuddered a little in his embrace. “Lady Penny, if you please. I am not much fond of the name Penelope.”

  Harry’s first instinct was to ask why she hated her name, but something held him back. He could not say what, precisely, other than gut instinct. However, over the years, he had learned to listen to his gut and he did so this time as well. So instead of pressing the lady for more information, he merely smiled again – another sincere smile. That was a banner night for him in that regard!

  “Lady Penny, then.” It was with true regret that Harry released her when the music ended and the other couples began breaking apart to form up lines for the next dance. “May I escort you to your chaperone?” He made a great show of glancing about, even though his instincts told him she was alone.

  “I…ah…don’t have one.” To his surprise, her cheeks flushed scarlet and once more, he had to wonder about her innocence.

  She spoke and occasionally acted like a jaded woman and yet, the idea of being here without a chaperone seemed to embarrass her. There were too many contradictions about this woman for him to be comfortable.

  “Not even a Gray Lady?” He shouldn’t press. This was none of his business. And yet Harry could not let this go. And not just because Julia was suspicious of this woman.

  Yes, he had first asked Lady Penny to dance because Julia had all but pushed him into it and he did still wish to know what secrets she hid. If Julia was concerned, then Harry was concerned. She also likely knew, or at least suspected, something Harry did not.

  However, Harry was offering to escort Lady Penny to her chaperone because…because…well he didn’t know why exactly. He supposed he was doing so just because he wished to.

  “I don’t know what a Gray Lady is. I am sorry, sir.” Lady Penny flushed again and looked down and this time, Harry could see the raw innocence in her, something that could not be faked. She wasn’t completely innocent. This game she was playing was proof enough of that, but beneath the game was something else, something more delicate and yes, innocent.

  His gut also told him Lady Penny was alone in London, but why and abandoned by whom he didn’t know. Someone who didn’t give a bloody damn about her safety and who thought cutting corners with propriety a waste of time, obviously. Which spoke to her possibly being part of something larger, something far more nefarious. Likely under the control of someone who ultimately didn’t care about this woman or her reputation and the harm that could come to her if her peculiar circumstances were revealed.

  Was this what Julia been worried about? That Lady Penny had treachery of some sort in mind? For what young woman of any sort of social standing was left to fend for herself in the drawing rooms of London? Not one of good moral character, certainly.

  More to the point, if Lady Penny was the daughter of the late Earl of Telford and the ward of the current earl, how was a lack of a proper chaperone even permissible? Especially if her goal in town was to find a husband, which Harry had to assume it was, for why else would she be here if it wasn’t? Particularly when she had so obviously been searching for someone, likely a gentleman, earlier?

  No, something was not right here and as delectable as Lady Penny was, Harry had the feeling she was up to her pretty little neck in something nefarious that might end up with her coming to harm. Julia had known it as well and the duchess had, in her own way, instructed him to find out what sort of game this woman was playing.

  And so he would. Not only because this was his job but because these people were his friends and they deserved better than to have a snake in their midst. No matter how beautiful that snake happened to be.

  Tucking Lady Penny’s arm firmly into the crook of his elbow again, Harry
decided to return her to Julia for now – mostly because he had no idea what else to do with her. Except possibly kiss her, which would not be a good idea. At all.

  “The Gray Ladies are a chaperone service for young women in need of one when no one in their immediate family is available to fill that role. They are currently under the guidance of the Marquess of Berkshire and his wife. Lord Evan and Lady Cassandra are two of the finest people I know and above reproach, as are the women they employ.” Harry gently steered Lady Penny toward Julia who was chatting with a small crowd of her friends on the far side of the ballroom. “You might ask Julia about securing the services of one of them. It would likely help you move about London easier.”

  The last thing Harry wanted to do was present Julia with a new problem, but he needed someone to keep an eye on Lady Penny when he could not, and a woman who was in the employ of Evan and Cassandra would be ideal.

  “That would be…nice.” Lady Penny seemed to stumble over that last word, almost as if it was the word she wished to use but also didn’t wish to for some reason. “Thank you.” There was a long pause, but Harry simply waited, once more his instincts telling him that the lady wasn’t finished speaking yet. “My aunt, I mean my cousin, is serving as my chaperone this evening, but she is elderly and has likely fallen asleep in some corner.”

  That entire last sentence was a lie, but once more, Harry did not call out Lady Penny for her fabrication. The longer he was with this woman, the more convinced he became that there was a great deal more to her than simply a woman in search of a husband. Or a woman playing a simple game.

  Though Lady Penny hadn’t explicitly said that was why she was in London, she probably believed that was likely what Harry assumed. Most men, even well-trained Runners, would. It was a logical explanation, but with Lady Penny, the story didn’t quite fit. Harry had no idea why, but something about her and her evasiveness didn’t sit right with him. Probably because she was evasive. Too much so. After all, he had noticed right away when she deftly changed the topic away from that of husband hunting and why she was in Town.