‘I will not be your mistress.’ It was a fierce declaration and he wished he could see her face.
‘No. I would not ask it.’ Lovers, yes, but he could not bear to see her brought to a position of a dependent, living on his whim, obligated to please him, to pleasure him. T
amsyn was wild and free and her own woman.
‘And I am not negotiating, that was not a demand for something more.’ She broke away, seemingly angry with herself, not with him. ‘I should never have come.’
‘Why did you come? And do not tell me, shopping.’
‘I wanted to deal with Franklin, to make him stop, to find a solution to this.’
She sat down and he pulled up a stool so he could sit close, catch her expression. ‘It is dangerous for you. I am dealing with it.’
‘Cris, it is not your problem to deal with.’
‘No?’ He reached out and cupped her cheek. ‘It has become so.’ When she shook her head he added, ‘Let me tell you what I have been doing.’
*
‘Lord Edenbridge—’ Tamsyn said when he had finished telling her about the Runner and his discussion with Gabriel.
‘Ignore Gabriel. He is going to find my right fist in his teeth if he does not stop this nonsense. It is insulting to you and it is driving me to distraction. You need have nothing to do with him and he’ll pull himself together soon enough and be of some use.’
‘There is a woman, I think. I don’t know her name, but she is…upsetting him. I saw them at Lady Ancaster’s reception. I do not know what exactly is going on, but I do not think he knows how to deal with her.’
‘Excellent. That will be the first time a woman has tied Gabriel in a knot. It might stop him attempting to nursemaid me.’ What was it that Gabriel had said when he arrived at Barbary Combe House?
A sudden impulse of decency in regard to a woman. A lady. I thought it better to remove myself before I discovered that I was on the verge of becoming reformed.
‘I can help,’ Tamsyn said.
‘No.’ It made his blood run cold to think what might happen if she sailed in to attack Chelford, all indignation, banners flying. ‘It is bad enough that you’ve been flitting about London unguarded as it is. You could have bumped into him at any time.’ He wanted to keep her in the house, wrapped in cotton wool, protected.
Tamsyn snapped, ‘He is not going to make me a prisoner, or afraid, any more than he is going to make me a pawn in his selfish, greedy plans.’ Her eyes were narrowed, her mouth set and her chin was up.
A warrior queen, Cris thought with a sudden jolt under his sternum. To treat her like a victim was to deny who she was, a fighter. ‘We need to get our hands on Gooding first, otherwise all we have is pure speculation. Even when we do, it will be his word against Chelford’s unless we can trick him into some kind of confession before witnesses, preferably our Runner.’
‘If he discovers I am in London then that will unnerve him, surely?’ Tamsyn turned to him, caught his hands in hers in her eagerness. Cris quietly closed his fingers and enjoyed the flutter of her pulse, the warmth of her palm against his. ‘He’ll wonder what on earth I am doing here and it might provoke him into rash action.’
‘If he tries rash action in your direction, I’ll break his neck.’ He discovered he meant it. ‘But it might be a good tactic. What we need is for both of you to be at the same party, one we can control and where I can keep you safe. I’ll see what I can persuade Tess and Alex to put on, I doubt Chelford knows we are friends.’
‘Thank you.’ She looked down at their clasped hands and made no move to free herself. ‘And thank you for agreeing to involve me. I know your instincts are all to shut up the women and children and man the barricades.’
‘I only want to shut you up safely.’ He lifted his hands until he could kiss her knuckles. ‘But it would be like caging a wild hawk, and besides, you wouldn’t let me do it.’
Tamsyn made a tiny, inarticulate sound and sought his mouth, fiercely urgent, pushing away the knot of their hands so she could find his lips. The heat surged through him as he caught her by the shoulders and pulled her on to his knee.
Mine. The word beat in his brain, drowning out common sense and caution.
‘Tamsyn!’
She recoiled from his grip back into her chair, sending the stool he was sitting on rocking. Cris got to his feet with a twist and regained his balance to find a trim matron in her forties regarding the pair of them with something between horror and amusement.
‘Lord Avenmore.’
‘Lady Pirton.’ How in Hades a grown man was supposed to maintain his dignity when he was caught in an amorous tangle by the chaperone of the lady concerned he had no idea. ‘I can explain.’
‘There is absolutely no need. Mrs Perowne may naturally count on my protection if she feels in need of it, but as she appears to be an entirely willing participant in your, er, conversation I will retire to the Green Salon and ring for tea. Perhaps you can both join me shortly?’