To Con a Gentleman (Dalton Family 1)

At first, Carver had been eager to write her off. But then she had shown that one bit of backbone before h

e had stepped into the carriage. That pluck was strangely compelling, and only intensified every minute they shared in the carriage. The more they sparred, the more he realized that she was not at all what she seemed. It was like watching a flame try to hide beneath a sheet of fabric. The more she spoke, the more the flame threatened to engulf the fabric. And for reasons he couldn’t identify, Carver desperately wanted to see it set fire.

“But—surely you don’t want to marry me?” said Daphney—if that was even her real name—in that same meek voice he knew was put on. She was right. He didn’t want to marry her. And in the end, he wouldn’t. Carver just wanted to see how far he could push her little shenanigan and hopefully remain entertained enough during the long journey to avoid dwelling on the pain that would meet him at home.

“Who truly wishes to be married?” he said, taking on the personality he knew belonged to Lord Newburry. “But alas, I am a gentleman trying to turn over a new leaf. As such, the honorable thing to do would be to marry you as soon as possible.”

“How convenient you choose now to turn over a new leaf,” she mumbled, barely audible. The poor vixen looked ready to throttle him for messing up her plans.

He had to inspect his knuckles to keep from laughing. “What was that? I couldn't hear you.”

Quick as that she pulled back on her shy maid facade. He had seen enough of her fire to know it was only a mask. Could he be dealing with a professional thief? He liked that idea. “Of course, I appreciate you wishing to do right by me, but don’t you think a marriage between an earl and a pregnant maid might cause a bit of a scandal?”

“As the notorious earl?” He shrugged it off. “Hardly. I dare say everyone will find it a dead bore. Marrying a proper lady would be much more surprising.”

He smiled to himself as he watched her struggle to calculate a way out of the mess. For some reason, it was clear that she did not take to the idea of being married to him. Perhaps she was already married? Why did he hope she wasn’t? But he did know the pregnancy was fake. At some point during her humorous seat-scooting performance, the pillow under her dress had dislodged and moved precariously to the side of her abdomen.

“Could it be that you do not want to accept my offer, Miss Bellows?” Carver knew that she could not, in her right mind, deny him without looking strongly suspicious. Only a madwoman would not accept the hand of an earl. Especially when supposedly carrying his child.

Her eyes flashed to his. Goodness, they were beautiful. So much lurked beneath their amber surface. He remembered Oliver’s romantic notion of eyes telling a story and felt a little bad about ever thinking the man was daft.

“Oh, of course I do!” said Miss Bellows, holding his eye contact. “I’m only shocked. I had not expected something so…generous of you.” Oh, he heard the way her teeth tightened over those last few words.

He smiled. “Remarkable, aren’t I?”

Carver watched her purse her lips and flare her nostrils, biting back a remark. He wished she wouldn’t.

“Just right, sir.” Her eyes bounced around the carriage. Was she looking for a way out? Perhaps she would cave sooner than he expected. Oddly, that disappointed him a little.

He leaned forward and took her hand in his. Those bewitching brownish-gold eyes looked back at him, wide and full. Carver realized he had never seen such an eye color before. They looked exactly like brandy. “My dear, I can see that you are apprehensive. Come sit by me and I can soothe your nerves.” He had to clench his teeth together to refrain from laughing when her eyes widened at the innuendo.

Clearly, she thought him every bit the rakeshame that Lord Newburry was.

Her lovely pale pink lips formed a tense smile as she pulled her hand away from his. “Apprehensive? Oh no, not a bit! I’m only trying to understand what all of this means. I just—I cannot imagine that you would truly be happy married to me. I’m afraid that you are acting rashly and, if given more time to think about it, would prefer to simply provide for my financial needs and be free of any responsibility.” She would like that, wouldn’t she? But that was definitely not going to happen.

He moved her valise to the ground. Why did she have a valise with her? Convenient—he’d say that much. Carver then moved to her bench and sat so their shoulders were touching. He wasn’t actually going to do anything untoward. But she didn’t have to know that.

He took her hand in his once again, this time taken surprised by how nicely her hand felt in his. And was it her that smelled so wonderful? It was soft and airy, but also warm and comforting. She smelled like vanilla.

Keep your head straight, man. “Let us get to know each other better, shall we?” He could hear her sharp intake of breath.

“I think we know each other plenty.” She laid her free hand on the skewed baby bump, and as he felt her body stiffen beside him, he had to hold back a grin.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her discretely pull her cloak around her stomach.

“I would disagree,” he said. “I believe there is still much I have to learn about you.”

How long would it take for the woman to cry pax? He reached out and touched her chin, tilting her face up to look at him. Unfortunately, the moment her eyes locked with his, he completely forgot that he was acting. The air felt too thick to breathe and his heart pounded against his chest. His eyes slid to her bow-shaped lips. She did not turn away or even show any hesitation. In fact, her lips parted slightly. He leaned in only a breath away before realization took hold of his senses. What the devil was he doing? He wasn’t actually going to kiss her, was he?

Yes. No! That was not part of the plan.

Daphney seemed to have the same thought. She looked down as he scooted away from her. And of course, the bench made that horrible squelching sound again. Perfect. Heat rushed up his neck as he waited for the ‘I told you so’ look that Miss Bellows was sure to give him. Instead, her face was pale and almost concerned. Maybe he had taken the act a little too far.

“You know, I think I am feeling a little unwell after all.” She adjusted her posture until her arm was pressed against the wall by the door. “Could you have your coachman stop the carriage and let me out here? I think I just need some fresh air.”

He smiled, both relieved that perhaps she hadn’t heard his embarrassing noise and because he knew full well that she was hoping to find a way to escape without having to admit to her scam. He knocked on the wall of the carriage and it pulled to a stop.

Daphney looked at Carver with a pleased smile, maybe a touch smug, before the footman opened the door and let down the stairs. Apparently, this was the part where she would get out and plan to never see him again. “I’m terribly sorry to leave you in the middle of our discussion, but I think a walk is just the thing to help my queasiness. I’ll send a note around to your house with directions to where I may be reached so that we can settle all the details of our engagement.” Mmhmm.