Tempting Mr. Townsend (Dashing Widows 2)

"My dear Lady Deerham, you can't go traipsing off into the night with a man you don't know. There will be a scandal."

"Believe me, sir, your reputation is safe." If he called her his dear lady again, she'd go after him with a fire iron. "And even if it's not, I promise you don't have to marry me."

He didn't smile. "You speak lightly, but you haven't considered the consequences. My reputation in society doesn't matter a tinker's damn. Nobody's likely to worry about my suitability for Almack's. You, on the other hand, move in more discriminating circles."

It was a good argument, she gave him that. But not good enough when her beloved son was in danger. "I'm coming with you."

"You can trust me with Brandon, you know."

Surprisingly, some deep instinct insisted that, despite his rough edges, Mr. Townsend was a good man. In his care, Brand would be safe. But for heaven's sake, she was Brand's mother, and only crushing him in her arms and giving him a good scolding would banish her terror. "I know."

If she expected gratitude for her trust, she was disappointed. He folded his arms over his broad chest and regarded her like an insect. "Then let me do this. I'll send word as soon as I find them."

"You won't do that because I'll be right beside you."

"No, you won't. And nothing you say will sway me, madam."

Madam was almost as grating as my dear Lady Deerham. "Very well."

He looked relieved. "Excellent. I knew you'd see sense."

She rang for Greaves who appeared so swiftly that he must have been standing outside the door. "Have my gig readied."

"What the devil?" Mr. Townsend snapped. "You said you weren't coming."

"Not with you. I'll follow close on your heels."

"Don't be absurd. You won't keep up."

"I could beat you to Eton with one hand tied behind my back."

Exasperation turned those craggy features forbidding. "Brave words. If I didn't think you'd risk your damned fool neck, I'd take you up on the challenge."

With so much at stake, Fenella couldn't falter. "So you'll take me."

"Not on your life."

"We'll be discreet."

His snort was dismissive. "Aye, and of course nobody will pay a lass like you a scrap of attention when we stop to ask after the scamps."

"We'll manage."

That square jaw jutted with obstinacy. "I'll be on my own."

She summoned a saccharine smile, despite her urgency. "And I'll be just behind you."

"You're a blasted stubborn wench, Lady Deerham."

"I am." Strangely the remark pleased her. It was an improvement on madam or his dear Lady Deerham. Somewhere in the last six months, she'd grown a backbone—and she liked it. Before meeting Caroline and Helena, she'd been contemptibly compliant. "Whether you intend to take me or not, I'm leaving for Eton within the next quarter of an hour."

He folded his arms and tilted one eyebrow in disdain. She raised her chin and faced him down, although it was rather like scowling at Ben Nevis and expecting it to melt into a puddle.

"There's no room in my carriage for a maid, my lady. And I've neither time nor inclination to swap my rig for a larger vehicle. We'll be completely alone. You and I. All night."

Fenella recognized the potential for scandal. She hardly cared. "Sir, two young boys are lost somewhere out in the darkness. With or without you, I will find them. Compared to my son's safety, I couldn't give a…tinker's damn for my social standing. Or your nitpicking."

He looked rather startled at her language, despite his own tendency to curse. Too bad. She'd swear like a sailor if it achieved her end of joining him. She wasn't at all sure what she thought of Anthony Townsend. But she was positive of one thing—in the case of trouble, Mr. Townsend was big and mean enough to handle anything life flung at him. If anyone could track Brand and Carey down, it was this large, belligerent male.