Indiscreet

Sedgewick handed her up into the carriage, and Benedict climbed in after her, sitting down on the seat across from her. Sedgewick closed the carriage door, and with a sharp cry from the driver and a slap of the reins, they started forward.

Camilla looked at the stranger across from her and wondered what she had gotten herself into.

CHAPTER FOUR

CAMILLA PICKED UP her reticule and dug into it, finding the roll of banknotes she had stuck there earlier. Carefully she counted out twenty-five one-pound notes and handed them across the carriage to Benedict.

“Why, thank ’e, my lady,” he told her, again affecting a thick lower-class brogue and tugging at his forelock like a peasant.

“It is only half the money,” Camilla said crisply, refusing to let him draw her into irritation. “You will get the other half when you have finished your role.”

“Afraid I might run off as soon as we get there?” he asked in his normal voice, the usual sardonic smile playing about his lips. “I suppose that would be rather embarrassing.”

Camilla ignored his words. “What are you?” she asked. “An actor? A sharp?”

“You surprise me. An Earl’s granddaughter, so familiar with gambling cant?”

“I’ve heard enough of sharps and flats and the sort of gambling dens that innocents are drawn into. They use well-spoken apparent gentlemen, don’t they, to lure the young men in?”

“So I have heard.”

“You are not one of them?”

He shook his head. “I thought we had established that I was a common thief.”

“I am not aware that we had established anything about you,” she responded coldly. “The only thing that I am certain of is that I do not trust you.”

“No doubt you are a wise woman.” Again his dark eyes glinted with amusement. “But, then, a trustworthy man would hardly suit your purpose, would he?”

Camilla looked at him, nonplussed by his words. He was right. A scrupulously honest man would never have agreed to such a charade as this. The fact did not reflect well on her, she realized, since she was engaged in the same deception as he—worse, really, since it was her own family that she was deceiving.

She looked away from him, doubt sweeping over her for the first time. The warmth that the rum punch had brought her had gradually melted away, and there was a small, insistent throbbing at the base of her skull that betokened the beginnings of a headache. Had she really been inebriated, as this man had claimed earlier? Had she made a foolish, drunken decision that she would regret tomorrow morning?

She cast a sideways glance at him, wondering what she was doing, bringing a thief right into her family’s home. Was she simply being weak, deceiving her grandfather this way? Was she doing all this merely for the sake of her pride? Doubts assailed her.

“What?” he asked in a smooth, oily voice. “Having second thoughts, my lady? Wondering if your course is less than honorable? Or is it doubt about letting a thief have access to the treasures of Chevington Park? Perhaps you should have thought of that earlier, before you invited the viper into your bosom, so to speak.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Camilla said boldly, managing to keep the tremor out of her voice. “Even you would not be so stupid as to steal something, when it would be so obvious who had done it. When I could identify you.”

“As what? Mr. Lassiter, was it?”

Her eyes flew to his, startled.

“That’s right,” he went on. “You don’t even know my name, do you?”

“But…is it not Benedict?”

“Aye…my first name.”

“Your first name! But I thought Mr. Sedgewick meant your last name. What is your surname, then?”

“Why, Lassiter—what else?”

She merely looked at him, wide-eyed, momentarily bereft of words.

Suddenly, startling her even further, he reached across the carriage and grabbed her, pulling her across the carriage and into his lap. One arm went around her shoulders, the other around her waist, pinning her arms very effectively to her sides.

“What are you— Stop it! Let go of me at once!”

“You seem to have forgotten one other little thing in your rush to fool your family. A fiancé, you know, has certain expectations.”

He bent, and his lips fastened on hers. They were hard, almost bruising, pressing into her soft lips with an insistent force. Camilla gasped in surprise, and he seized the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, amazing her even more. She had been kissed only once or twice, and then only by gentlemanly beaux overcome by a moment of ardor. But she had never felt anything like this. His mouth seemed to feed on hers, hungry and urgent, demanding that she give in to him.

Just as suddenly as he had begun, he stopped, raising his head and gazing down at Camilla for a long moment. His face was flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and there was a glitter to his dark eyes. Camilla stared back, mesmerized, for once unable even to speak. She thought for an instant that he was about to kiss her again, but then he abruptly set her back on the seat across from him.

“Remember that,” he told her darkly, “the next time you decide to pretend some man is about to become your husband.”

Anger flooded Camilla, wiping away her astonishment, as well as the stab of fear she had felt a moment earlier. “How dare you!”

“I dare anything,” he returned flatly. “Do you think I care that you are a supposed lady, or that your family is respected? You know nothing about me, least of all my character. You were a fool to agree to this.”

“Then perhaps I should end it right now!” Camilla’s cheeks flamed with color. “Why don’t we stop, and you can get out and walk back to the inn?”

“Oh, no, my lady, we made a bargain, and I intend to see it through to the bitter end. Are you planning to renege on it?”

Camilla drew herself up proudly. “I never go back on my word. But don’t get the idea that you can claim any fiancé’s rights. I am paying you good money, and if that is not enough for you, then I suggest you leave right now. For you are not going to get anything else.” Her fierce gaze would have melted iron.

Her words seemed to amuse him, more than anything else, for he only smiled faintly and murmured, “You don’t scare easily, do you?”

“Is that what you were trying to do? Frighten me?” She gazed at him in perplexity. “To what purpose?”

“’Tis better not to go into a situation blind.”

“So you were testing me?” Her mouth twisted with exasperation. “Well, I can promise you, Mr…. whatever your name is…that if there is a weak link in this plan, it is not I.” She looked at him pointedly. He returned her gaze without expression, and after a moment, she drew herself up in her most prim, governess-like manner and said, “I believe it would be best if, instead of indulging in juvenile tests, we settled down to make certain of our story. Now, your last name is Lassiter, as you have said. I think that we could use your own name, Benedict, as your first name. That way, if I slip and say it, it won’t seem odd. I have never spoken of you as anything but Mr. Lassiter in my letters home, so they don’t know what your given name is.”

He nodded agreement. “Tell me, where do I live? How do I spend my time?”

“You live in Bath. Your parents have a small estate in the Cotswolds. You are a gentleman of leisure, and you write.”

“I what?” His expression turned pained. “I hope you don’t mean poetry.”

“Oh, no. You are a very scholarly gentleman. You are interested in ancient history, particularly the Romans. You have written several articles, and are working on a book.”

“Good Gad, you mean I will be expected to converse on the subject?”

“Oh, no,” she assured him airily. “Grandpapa generally dislikes scholarly subjects. I just thought it sounded like an admirable thing to be interested in.”

He grimaced and went on, “All right. Now, what else should I know about this paragon?”