“As always, my lady, you make valid points.”
“Please, call me Rebecca. We are colleagues after all.” She sighed into her mug. “Perhaps they will never learn the truth.”
“Would you stake your reputation on that gamble?”
“She will not stake her reputation on anything.”
Rebecca’s heart slunk from her throat to her toes as a shadow fell over them. She locked gazes with Wicke. Instant warmth spread from her core to her belly even as the blood drained from her face. He did not look happy at all. Jaw clenched and lips stretched tight.
And still the unbidden thought wrenched into her mind.Had he always been this handsome?
She watched as his gaze flicked to Mr. Lance, lips set in a hard line. “Send me the sum. I do not care how much she owes, I will settle the debt. But if you ever approach her again, I will end your existence.”
“Wicke!” Rebecca hissed, unsure what to say.
Blazing eyes settled on her.
“Lady Rebecca has no debt to settle,” Mr. Lance drawled, seemingly unimpressed by Wicke’s possessive display of arrogance. “All has been seen to.”
Lord Above.
Mr. Lance made it sound as thoughhehad settled Rebecca’s debt. She had no debt! She was entirely debt free. Wicke’s face had turned purple at the announcement, or at least a shade thereof. Quite remarkable, since Rebecca had never seen that particular hue embellish his skin nor had she ever glimpsed him this affected.
Rebecca’s eyes widened when Langley appeared at Wicke’s left flank. He was here as well? How was she going to explain her meeting with Mr. Lance?
A hand appeared before her nose. “Come.”
Rebecca placed her hand in Wicke’s. She did not see any other way out.
She gave Mr. Lance a telling look, and he nodded. They would revisit their conversation later, though she had no idea how she was going to wriggle her way out of this conundrum with Wicke. It was clear he knew Mr. Lance was connected with Knightley’s. Not good. Not good indeed.
Wicke practically yanked her from her seat.
Mr. Lance rose, face hard as stone. “I would tread carefully if I were you, sir. I take offense at men who manhandle women.”
“Manhandle?” Wicke’s voice vibrated with menace.
“It’s all right, Mr. Lance.” She shot Wicke a disapproving glance. “I shall be fine.”
Wicke said nothing and Rebecca sighed. Every muscle in his body appeared locked into place as he guided her stiffly from the Queen’s Arms. Regret carved her to the bone. If this was Wicke’s reaction to Mr. Lance, what would his reaction be if he ever discovered she owned Knightley’s?
She could not say she was terribly surprised. Wicke had so addled her wits with his confession, his kisses that Rebecca had allowed herself to momentarily forget her priorities. Indeed, Rebecca was more frazzled that she had permitted herself the excitement of exploring the passion between them in the first place.
Rebecca had come to her senses in the nick of time, it seemed.
Why then, did she feel as though she had been flung from a horse at thundering speed?
