The invitation was deliberate; she acknowledged it with her eyes.
Vane's chest swelled; his face was a conqueror's mask, hard and unyielding. His eyes held hers, then he nodded. "Later."
With that, he left her.
Chapter 21
Come to me later, she'd said.
Vane returned to Aldford Street just after ten o'clock.
The house was quiet when Masters let him in. His expression implacable, Vane handed Masters his cane, hat, and gloves. "I'll go up to Her Ladyship and Miss Debbington. You needn't wait up-I'll show myself out."
"As you wish, sir."
As he climbed the stairs, Vane recalled Chillingworth's words: How the mighty have fallen. The steely determination that had taken possession of him wound a notch tighter. He wasn't sure how deep the changes within him had gone, but as of this afternoon, he'd sworn off all attempts to hide his connection with Patience Debbington. The lady who would be his wife.
There was no doubt of that fact, no possibility of error, no room for maneuver-and absolutely none for negotiation. He was finished with excuses, with playing the game according to society's rules. Conquerors wrote their own rules. That was something Patience would have to come to terms with-he intended shortly to inform her of the fact.
But first, he'd set Minnie's heart at rest.
He found her propped on her pillows, eyes expectantly wide. Timms was present; Patience was not. Quickly, concisely, he explained and reassured. Then he left Timms to tuck Minnie, at ease once again, up for the night.
He knew they were grinning behind his back, but was not about to acknowledge it. Shutting Minnie's door with a definite click, he turned and strode down the corridor.
With a token, peremptory tap, he opened Patience's door and walked in, then shut it behind him. Rising from the chair by the hearth, she blinked, then resettled the shawl she'd draped over her shoulders, and calmly waited.
Beneath the soft shawl, she was wearing a fine silk nightgown, cinched with a drawstring under her breasts. And nothing else.
The blaze in the hearth roared.
One hand on the doorknob, Vane drank in the sight, luscious curves and sleek limbs outlined by the flames. The embers inside him ignited; a rush of fiery lust seared his veins. He straightened and slowly stalked toward her.
"Gerrard's with Devil and Honoria at St. Ives House." The words fell from his lips slowly, as, starting at her nightgown's hem, he let his gaze rise, noting the fascinating way the silk clung to each curve, to her long, sleek thighs, rounded hips, the soft swell of her belly, how it cradled the warm globes of her breasts. Her nipples peaked as his gaze feasted.
She tightened her hold on her shawl. "Was that part of your plan?"
Halting before her, Vane lifted his gaze to her face. "Yes. I hadn't imagined Bow Street, but something along those lines was in the cards. Someone had, from the first, tried to cast Gerrard as the thief."
"What happened?" Patience's words were breathless; her lungs had seized. She held Vane's gaze and tried not to shiver. Not with fear, but anticipation. The stark planes of his face, the silvery flames in his eyes, all screamed of reined passion.
He studied her eyes, then raised one brow. "By the time I reached Bow Street, Devil had descended and whisked Gerrard away. I followed them to St. Ives House. According to Gerrard, he didn't even have time to look around Bow Street before Devil arrived, courtesy of Sligo. He must have run all the way to Grosvenor Square."
Her eyes locked on his, Patience licked her lips. "He's really been a big help over this business."
"Indeed. As he could swear that the stolen goods were not in Gerrard's room yesterday, and nor was the sack in which they were found, the magistrate was understandably diffident over laying any charge." Vane's lips lifted. "Particularly with Devil leaning on the charge desk."
Bracing one hand on the mantelpiece, he leaned closer. Decidedly giddy, Patience tilted her chin. "I suspect your cousin enjoys intimidating people."
Vane's lips quirked. His gaze lowered to her lips. "Let's just say Devil's rarely backward in exercising his authority, especially in support of one of the family."
"I… see." Her gaze fixed on his long lips, Patience decided to let his description of Gerrard as "family" pass unchallenged. The tension investing his large frame, so close beside her, was fascinating-and deliciously unnerving.
"The magistrate decided something odd was going on. The report hadn't come from Minnie, and, of course, there was the matter of Sligo, Devil's servant, masquerading as Minnie's hired help. He couldn't understand it, so he elected to make no finding at present. He released Gerrard into Devil's care, pending any further developments."
"And Gerrard?"
"I left him happily ensconced with Devil and Honoria. Honoria told me to tell you they were grateful for the excuse to stay home. While they keep up appearances, they only came to town to catch up with the family. They'll be returning to Somersham any day."