Passionately Yours (Hellions of High Street 3)
“Oh, here you are, Isobel,” she said brightly, hoping to defuse any unpleasantness with a minimum of embarrassment. Gentlemen were prone to drink too much during fetes like these and take liberties they would later regret. The masks, at least, would allow everyone to escape an awkward moment with their dignity intact.
Her friend whirled around, a look of gratitude glittering through her unshed tears.
The gentleman then turned as well, forcing Caro to swallow a gasp of dismay.
Thayer. The very last man on earth she wished to encounter.
Think, think!
Whatever his motive for seeking a private conversation with Alec’s sister, it could not be a good one. She had to extract Isobel, who knew nothing of his recent perfidy, and quickly.
Forcing a smile, Caro pretended not to notice that anything was amiss. “Ah, and Mr. Thayer, too.”
He inclined a mock bow.
“Isn’t it a lovely evening for pyrotechnics?” she went on. “Do you think this is the best spot for viewing the explosions? Or should we move closer to the crest of the ridge?”
“I think we’re quite nicely situated here,” replied Thayer. The dark silk masked his eyes, but his mouth quirked in a serpentine curl that sent a chill slithering down her spine.
“Yes, I daresay you’re right,” she agreed, after feigning a study of the surroundings. “This offers an excellent vantage point.” Inching a little closer to shield Isobel from his shrouded stare, she added, “Andover will be returning with our drinks. Perhaps you ought to return to our meeting spot so he doesn’t think that we’ve been abducted by cutthroat pirates who’ve sailed their rogue ship up the Avon.”
“Pirates.” Thayer let out a low laugh. “My, what a vivid imagination you have, Miss Caro. Evil villains, damsels in distress, and dashing heroes riding to their rescue—don’t tell me you read those silly novels that set all the young ladies to swooning.”
“But of course!” replied Caro lightly. “What young lady doesn’t dream of a dashing hero carrying her off into the sunset?”
“No wonder such novels are thought to corrupt the female mind,” he said, with a tinge of mockery. “The fairer sex suffers such a great disappointment when they discover that heroes are rarer than hen’s teeth in real life.”
While villains seem as plentiful as the stinging gnats that buzz around a barnyard.
“Why, Mr. Thayer, are you really so cynical?” asked Caro.
“I prefer to think of myself as pragmatic.”
“As you say, I had better go find Andover before he becomes alarmed,” said Isobel, inching back toward the pathway.
Leaves rustled, and the sound of her steps on the pathway quickly faded into the night.
“Miss Urquehart is a delicate little creature, isn’t she?” he remarked. “No wonder her brother is so protective.”
His words stirred another shiver.
“Isobel is actually much stronger than she looks,” said Caro. “She is capable of taking care of herself.”
“Indeed?” Thayer brushed a bit of leaf from his sleeve. “And what of you, Miss Caro? If I had to guess, I would say that you are the more adventurous of the two.”
Was he flirting? The idea made her skin crawl, but Caro made herself flash a coy smile. “You think so?” she murmured, echoing his teasing tone.
Boom! The first explosion of the fireworks display shook the stillness of the night, filling the sky with a burst of brilliant sparks.
“Yes.” He came closer, close enough that the cloying scent of his cologne clogged her nostrils. “Definitely.”
Boom! Boom! The flashes of red-tinted light painted his face in a devilish glow.
His hand curled around her arm and it was all she could to keep from flinching. He must not guess her true sentiments.
“I…” Caro turned her head, suddenly aware of footfalls on the gravel. A figure took shape from out of the smoke-swirled gloom—Boom!—and as a fresh flare of gunpowder light fell across the path, she saw it was Alec, wearing nothing on his face but a black scowl.
A viper. Alec felt a cold rage cloud his eyes as he spotted Thayer slide a step closer to Caro and touch her. A cold-blooded, cold-hearted snake, who took pleasure in sinking his fangs into innocent flesh, seeking to poison all that was right and good in the world.