“As you’ve always given me, yet you cannot deny I’ve taken away your sense of safety, that this enterprise I involved you in has placed you in danger.”
“We can’t be certain that is true. Crime is rampant in London, and this very well could have been an accident.”
“Yet how will we determine that?” Genevieve asked. “We cannot simply wait until one or both of us is harmed. Or worse. This must be stopped. Immediately. I must speak with Mr. Bayer.”
“I beg you not to, at least for a day or two. There was a witness who can identify the culprit. My father promised to write to let me know if the perpetrator is caught. If he is, then our worries are for naught. Let us wait to hear from Father.”
Genevieve worried her lowered lip, then finally jerked her head in agreement. “Very well. However, if you haven’t heard from him by tomorrow evening, I am going to London the following day. In the meanwhile, we must do something to guarantee your safety. Baxter will see to it that no harm comes to me, but I fear that although Milton and Spencer are brave, they cannot offer you adequate protection should the need arise.”
“I have already taken care of that. My brother’s American friend, Mr. Stanton, accompanied me to Little Longstone and is remaining for a visit.”
“But is he capable of protecting you?” Genevieve asked in a dubious voice.
An image of Mr. Stanton carrying her in his strong arms flashed through her mind, and to her mortification, heat crept up her neck. “Er, yes. He is definitely capable.”
Genevieve’s gaze turned speculative, then she hiked up one perfectly arched blond brow. “Indeed? Well, I am vastly relieved. I recall you mentioning this Mr. Stanton, but only in the vaguest terms. What is he like?”
“Annoying and opinionated,” she answered without hesitation.
Genevieve laughed. “Darling, all men are that. Does he possess any good traits?”
Catherine shrugged. “I suppose if pressed to do so, I could think up one or two.” When Genevieve continued to wait with an expectant expression, Catherine looked toward the ceiling and blew out a resigned sigh. “He was apparently quite helpful after I was injured last evening. And, um, he does not have an unpleasant body odor.”
Something that looked suspiciously like amusement flashed in Genevieve’s eyes. “I see. Quick-wittedness and a commitment to personal cleanliness are indeed good traits in a man. Tell me, how precisely did he prove helpful after the shooting?”
Another wave of heat engulfed Catherine. “He applied pressure to the wound until the doctor arrived.”
“Excellent. Clearly he knows something about treating injuries.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, but please tell me the doctor didn’t examine you right there in the drawing room!”
“No.”Damnation, but it was warm in here. Knowing Genevieve would eventually worm the information from her, Catherine met her gaze squarely and said in her best noncommittal voice, “Mr. Stanton was kind enough to carry me to my father’s chamber so as to remove me from the prying eyes of the other guests.”
“Ah, a man of discretion as well,” Genevieve said with an approving nod. “And I take it you ascertained the fact that he does not possess an offensive body odor while he carried you.”
“Yes.”
“And obviously he possesses superior strength.”
Catherine shot her friend an arch look. “Are you implying that I weigh more than I should?”
Genevieve’s musical laugh rang out. “Of course not. I merely meant that only a strong man could carry a woman from the drawing room to the bedchamber-a journey that naturally requires navigating stairs-all while applying pressure to her wound. Very impressive. Does he possess any fortune?”
“I’ve never asked.”
Genevieve shook her head. “My dear, you must have some idea. How are his clothes?”
“Very fine. Expensive.”
“His residence?”
“Rooms on Chesterfield. I do not know their condition as, naturally, I’ve never visited.”
“A fashionable part of town,” Genevieve said with approval. “So far he sounds quite promising.”
“Promising? For what?”
Genevieve’s innocent expression resembled that of an angel. “Why as adequate protection for you, of course.”
“A fortune and tailored clothing are not prerequisites. He is an expert fencer and accomplished pugilist, and brawny enough to present a threatening presence. That is all I require.”
“You are right, of course. And a pugilist, you say. I suppose he bears many scars and healed broken bones. Pity.” Genevieve blew out a sigh. “I gather he is remarkably unattractive?”
Catherine’s fingers fidgeted with the velvet cord of her reticule. “Well, in all fairness I wouldn’t say that.”
“Oh? What would you say?”
That this conversation has taken a most unsettling turn. An image of Mr. Stanton, sitting across from her in the carriage flashed in her mind, his dark eyes steady on hers, a teasing smile playing about his lips. She cleared her throat. “While Mr. Stanton is not classically handsome in any sense, I can see where a certain sort of woman might find him… not unappealing.”
“What sort of woman?”
The living, breathing sort. The words popped unbidden into her mind, appalling her. Heavens, she was losing her senses. “I really wouldn’t know,” she said, much more stiffly than she’d meant to. “Perhaps the nearsighted sort?”
Unfortunately, Genevieve ignored her stiff tone. “Oh, dear. Poor man. What exactly does Mr. Stanton look like?”
“Look like?”
Concern clouded Genevieve’s eyes. “Darling, are you certain that bump on your head is not more serious than you thought? Your manner is most odd.”
“I’m fine.” She drew a deep breath. “Mr. Stanton looks like… he has…”Dark, compelling eyes that you must actually force yourself to look away from. A slow, engaging smile that for some insane reason makes my heart beat faster just thinking about. A strong jaw, and that lovely mouth that looks both firm and delightfully soft at the same time. Silky, dark hair, strands of which fall over his forehead in a manner that makes one’s fingers itch to brush the locks back into place-
“He has what, darling?”
Genevieve’s voice jerked Catherine from her reverie with a start. Good Lord, her thoughts had positively run amuck. Perhaps she had bumped her head harder than she’d thought. “He has dark hair, dark eyes, and a, um, rather nice smile.” Her conscience balked at the lukewarm description of Mr. Stanton’s smile as “nice,” but she firmly swatted her inner voice aside.
“So he’s just very ordinary.”
Ordinary? Catherine tried to attach that word to Mr. Stanton, and was spectacularly unsuccessful. Before she could think up a reply, Genevieve continued, “Well, that is just as well. He is here to protect you. If you were attracted to him, you might consider entering into a liaison with him, and that could lead to all sorts of complications that could distract him from his duties.”
“I can assure you that a liaison with Mr. Stanton-or anyone else for that matter-is the furthest thing from my mind.”
Genevieve smiled. “Then thank heavens you do not find him the least bit attractive.”
“Yes, thank heavens.”
Yet even as those three words passed her lips, her inner voice whispered three words of its own.
Liar, liar, liar.
Chapter 6
Many men feel disinclined to give a woman what she wants if she is bold enough simply to ask fir it. In addition, many men disregard superb ideas simply because they were suggested by a woman. Therefore, the most expeditious way for Today’s Modern Woman to get what she wants and to implement her ideas is to lead the gentleman in question to believe that it was his idea all along.