“Damn fool deserves to suffer,” Leath grumbled, gradually remembering the disastrous sequence of events.
Another groan pricked Leath’s conscience, although he’d wanted to shoot the man himself when he’d burst in so disastrously. A murmur of voices indicated that Harmsworth offered Brown assistance.
“Greengrass got the money,” he said unsteadily, leaning against the wall.
“It’s only fifty pounds.”
“Says the richest man in Europe.” Leath struggled to stand, but Hillbrook settled a hand on his shoulder.
“Stay there until you can see straight. You got the diary.”
“Did I?”
Hillbrook smiled grimly and pointed to Harmsworth. “Look.”
Careful how he turned his head, Leath saw the volume in Sir Richard’s hand. Despite pain and anger, a tendril of satisfaction unfurled. “I did, didn’t I?”
Hillbrook’s smile broadened. “Good work.”
“Sod got away,” Sedgemoor announced from Leath’s right. “There’s a cellar with a passage through to the river.”
“Must be why he chose this place,” Harmsworth said. “I’ve made the mistake before of underestimating the brute.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Leath’s voice sounded thick in his ears. “Without the diary, he’s got no leverage.”
Hillbrook helped him up. “Come on; let’s get you back to Miss Trim.”
Leath staggered and cursed his clumsiness. Gratefully he accepted Hillbrook’s shoulder under his arm. “She won’t be impressed that I let the blackguard scarper.”
Sedgemoor took the other arm. “She won’t care when her wounded hero returns.”
For some reason, Leath found that description enormously funny and he laughed. At least until his stomach lurched in protest. Wounded hero indeed.
“I still think you should see a doctor.” Eleanor rose from her chair across the dinner table.
They were in Leath’s private parlor at the Royal Swan, Maidenhead’s best inn. Earlier, all five had enjoyed a meal to celebrate the diary’s retrieval. Leath’s head pounded, but he’d done his best with a single glass of champagne. The other men had made up for his abstention, raising glasses in increasingly lunatic toasts.
Eleanor had been reserved, but it was impossible to remain shy in Richard Harmsworth’s presence, and she’d soon joined the festivities. Leath had smiled to see her so easy in the high-bred company. More ammunition for his campaign to marry her. He merely bided his time before asking again. He suspected she guessed that. After she’d recovered from the shock of seeing his injuries, her manner had turned wary.
He appreciated the welcome the three men gave her. Even more, he appreciated that each had since found an excuse to leave the parlor.
Now Eleanor approached him, beautiful eyes dark with concern. It was a cold night and she looked so warm and inviting. In her neat gray dress, she seemed more his Miss Trim than the gorgeous creature in silk at Fentonwyck. He’d wanted that woman to the point of madness, but there was something familiar and delightful about this Eleanor.
Gently she ran her hand over the back of his head. Even such a delicate touch had him hiding a wince. She brushed her lips across his thick dark hair, so lightly that he barely felt it. Except that his lonely heart yearned for her care like a man dying of thirst yearned for a river.
Still gently, she caught his jaw in one slender hand and tilted his face. She rested her other hand on his shoulder as she scrutinized him with a detailed attention that made his bones melt with longing. She pressed another butterfly kiss to the bruise on his cheekbone. “You quite terrify me, James; you’re so scarred and bruised.”
He smiled. This was the first time she’d called him James all night. He raised his hand and pressed her palm against his jaw. “Who needs a doctor when I have Miss Trim? Will you stay tonight?”
For the sake of her reputation, he’d engaged a separate room for her, although he’d ensured it was across the corridor from his. A man lived in hope, after all.
She stared into his eyes and briefly he thought she might agree, before she shook her head. “No.”
He
tried to find comfort in her audible regret. “Are you sure?”
Amusement lit her eyes to gold. “Stop tempting me.”