An Inconvenient Arrangement (The Rose Room Rogues 3)

Lying worked because although she smirked, she leaned back in her chair, resting her delicate hand on the knob of the parasol that matched her hat, and didn’t respond.

Sir Phillip clapped his hands together. “Excellent. I think this will be a beneficial arrangement.”

A rather inconvenient arrangement for me.

If word got out that he was courting a young woman, he would be forced to curtail, bloody hell, even stop his thoroughly enjoyable carnal pursuits. He and celibacy were not friends. He cleared his throat. “How long do you foresee this arrangement lasting?”

Sir Phillip grinned. “That depends entirely on you two. Bring me information that I need, and the assignment ends.” After studying them both for a few moments, he stood. “I suggest the two of you go for tea somewhere and make your plans. Miss Sanford will have a list of upcoming events that the two of you will attend.”

Being summarily dismissed, they both stood and left the room, Dante keeping his distance from the woman. They made their way outside and stood on the pavement and turned to face each other.

“Do you h

ave a carriage, Mr. Rose? If not, I have mine available.”

“Yes. I have a carriage, Miss Sanford.” When her brows rose, he realized his voice was not at all pleasant. “I apologize. I will be happy to escort you to tea and you may dismiss your driver. I will see that you are delivered home unharmed.”

She dipped her head and turned to address the man who hovered near her. After speaking with him, he nodded and climbed onto the top of the carriage. Miss Sanford walked right up to him and placed her arm in his. “I am ready.”

Perhaps she was ready, but he wanted to hightail it out of London. Hell, right now the Americas were looking good. She swung her parasol to and fro as they strolled, almost as if they were a courting couple.

Oh, God.

Once they were settled in his carriage, and Dante had given instructions to the driver to take them to a small tea shop where he was unknown, he settled back and studied his partner and scowled at her. “Why are you not married?”

“Why are you not married?” she snapped.

He huffed. “I’m a man.”

“And I am a woman.” She stuck her cute little nose in the air. “Now that we have established something that is patently obvious to any observer, why do you care if I am married or not?”

“You are a beautiful woman.”

“And you are a handsome man. Alas, I find we are back to my question to you. Why are you not married?”

Ignoring the query once again, Dante said, “You should be under the care of a doting husband with several children clinging to your skirts, not working a dangerous assignment for the Home Office.”

She waited for several seconds and he could almost see the steam coming from her ears. “I see. Since I am a mere woman, all I am good for is producing children and pandering to a husband, despite my talents, intelligence or skills.”

Dante waved his hand. “I did not say that.”

“Then what, exactly, did you say?”

“I asked why a beautiful woman like you is not married. You must be an age to be considered on the shelf.”

Miss Lydia Sanford’s face grew red, and she drew in a deep breath. He watched her attempt to control her temper, her eyes flashing and her bosom heaving. He could not take his eyes off her.

She was magnificent.

And major trouble.

Bloody hell. This was going to be the worse assignment he ever worked.

2

Lydia had to tamp down the strong urge to wallop the arrogant Mr. Rose over his head with her parasol. If she weren’t afraid of breaking it—it matched her hat so nicely—she would have done it.

She drew herself up. “Mr. Rose, we need to work together. Unless, of course you wish to disappoint Sir Phillip and back out of the commitment rather than work with a woman. I suggest we learn to get along. If we are to fool Society into believing that we are courting, you must refrain from insulting me, since I am afraid the bit of Irish in my blood will draw unnecessary notice to how much I dislike you.”