She glanced up at him as he carried her glass over to her. “Have you ever shot someone before?”
“Once, to foil another highway robbery. I was more successful that time.”
“You were successful this time. The thief didn’t make off with Winifred’s jewels as he intended. She would have been devastated to lose her brooch-although I doubt she is quite as distraught as she claims.”
Arden settled beside her with the fluid elegance that characterized all his movements, making Roslyn suddenly very aware of his proximity. She quickly took a sip of wine to distract herself. “It was kind of you to remain here tonight to solace our nerves, but you needn’t become any more involved in our affairs.”
He gave a shrug of his lithe shoulders as he relaxed back against the couch. “Marcus would never forgive me if I let harm befall you when I could have prevented it.”
At his casual movement, Roslyn shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She couldn’t help remembering the feel of the hard-muscled body concealed beneath that impeccably tailored coat. She drank another swallow of wine, trying to discipline her wayward thoughts. “You are not responsible for my welfare, your grace.”
“I know. But I still plan to remain here for a day or two.”
She managed a wry smile. “If you stay, her ladyship’s matchmaking will only get worse.”
“Don’t concern yourself. I’ve had ample experience foiling eager matchmakers.” His tone was still amused, but an undercurrent of cynicism had crept into his voice.
“I can imagine,” Roslyn replied, before returning to the problem of the holdup. “So you mean to meet with the bailiff, Mr. Hickling, tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, to have him begin a search for the highwayman.”
“I would like to be present.” When Arden raised an eyebrow, Roslyn expounded. “I saw the culprit up close, so I can offer the best description. And I know most everyone in the district and where to search.” She paused, gazing down at her glass. “The real truth is, however, I would like to feel as if I am contributing. I don’t like feeling so helpless.”
Arden nodded as if he understood. “You are welcome to join us, sweeting. But only if you promise me never to challenge any more armed bandits. You should allow me the chance to play the hero.”
Roslyn shot him a sharp glance before realizing that he was baiting her in a deliberate attempt to take her mind off the robbery. “You were rather heroic tonight,” she admitted lightly, making an effort to quell her disquiet.
“So were you.”
“You said I was foolhardy.”
His slow grin was irresistible. “That too.”
Roslyn smiled back at him. The wine was succeeding in relaxing her somewhat, so she wasn’t quite as unnerved by Arden’s nearness. But it still was deplorable the way her pulse reacted to him. It was a purely physical response, of course. Her emotions were not engaged in the least. She wasn’t even sure she liked the duke. She certainly couldn’t deny her attraction, however.
She was glad when he changed the subject, even though the one he chose was just as provoking.
“Marcus told me of your bluestocking tendencies,” Arden said, studying her. “And Eleanor says that you read Latin. I confess I find it surprising.”
“Why?” Roslyn queried. “You don’t believe women should be educated in masculine disciplines?”
“No, I just wonder at your having such an unusual interest. You don’t look to be the scholarly type.”
Her smile this time was cool. “Many people mistakenly leap to that conclusion. They take one look at me and assume I don’t have a mind. You did yourself the night we first met. Your proposition was based entirely on my appearance.”
“Not entirely. Your wit appealed to me, too.”
She laughed at that. “You had no chance to determine my wit before you offered to make me your mistress.”
“I believe the circumstances justified my assumption about you,” Arden said amiably. “I thought you a courtesan.”
“But even men who know that I am a lady rarely look beneath the surface.”
“So you consider your beauty a disadvantage rather than an attribute?” he clarified, his tone skeptical.
Her smile turned strained. “It frequently is. No woman wants to be plain, of course, but beauty can make one a target for the worst sort of reprobates.”
“Marcus said a wastrel recently pursued you.”