Baston crossed his arms and stretched out his legs, and Blake instantly felt a body press up against his leg, “If I didn’t know any better,” he said, “I’d think a thousand ants had crawled all over your body. But I don’t see any ants.”
There was crawling, but it was no ant.
“But I do,” Blake announced with the lift of his chin. “An uninvited one.” An ant hewouldrather have scurry off before he blurted something that would alert Lady Rosilee to the fact that Blake had been spying on her for years. Though, honestly, could requesting regular news about her goings on really be called spying?
Yes, Blake.Yes, it could.
Baston suddenly scraped back his chair and rose to his feet. “I can see my welcome has not been met with eagerness. I shall not trouble Your Grace any longer.”
“Much obliged.”
Blake watched the man walk off and greet four men at the door. This was not good. The delays Bishop had orchestrated so that he could catch up with Lady Rosilee had allowed this blackguard to catch up as well. Which begged the question, did he know of her plans? It was as likely as not. It probably wouldn’t be that hard to deduce.
Lady Rosilee nudged his leg. “Is he gone?”
“No.”
After a moment, her soft voice drifted up to him again. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”
Blake’s lips twitched upward for a second. “I’m not.”
An unintelligible mutter met his answer.
Moments later, Baston disappeared with his men. “He’s gone.”
A rustle. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Blake murmured, gooseflesh spreading over his legs. “But he might return. You should keep your head covered with the blanket.”
“Then we must be quick. I must get to my room without being seen. Or better yet, we could leave this place.”
Blake glanced at the window. “Not in this rain.”
The heat of her body left his legs, and the blanket was drawn with her. “Drat it. I know.”
“I hate to ask this,” Blake murmured, “but does anyone else know of your plans?”
“Only Evangeline, my maid,” came the answer from under the table. “Why?”
“Is it possible that she might have told him?”
“Impossible.”
He’d reserve judgement on that. In all his years, the truest thing he had learned in life was that a man could never trust anyone with his life or his secrets. When pushed into a corner, it was still hard to tell what a person might say or do. Lady Rosilee, perhaps, was the only exception for him.
“Are you planning to stay under there all night? If so, then I shall order more tea.”
She peeked up from beneath the table on the opposite end from him, her eyes meeting his. “Is that amusement I detect? How novel!” Her eyes darted around. “Nevertheless, if it keeps me safe fromhim,I might just consider it, but that will mean you shall also have to sit here the entire night nursing a scowl.”
He could easily nurse the sight of her all night long. His gaze lingered on her for a moment before turning to locate Bishop. Hestill sat in the corner, his cap pulled low, shadowing his face but not obstructing his vision. He gave Blake a nod before rising and heading in the direction Baston had taken. As sharp as ever.
But only when it damn well suited him.
He must have his reasons.
“Bishop will make sure the coast is clear.” Blake turned back to Lady Rosilee. “However, we shouldn’t discount the idea that Baston might already know of your plans.”
“But my plans have changed, remember? You’re going to help me. And he doesn’t know about that. Besides, I doubt he would ever imagine I would approach Mrs. Dove-Lyon even if he thought I might go to London to find a husband.”
