Chapter 8

8

S amantha deliberately avoided Mr. Croft for the rest of the evening. Ever conscious of his assessing gaze, she fought the urge to glance in his direction. A difficult feat, considering the effect he'd had upon her when they'd first met.

She'd not been prepared.

For some inexplicable reason, she'd imagined him to be shorter, lankier of build, and weaselly looking. Instead, he'd been the exact opposite: tall with nearly black hair and piercing brown eyes – extremely imposing. His chiseled features lent him a stern appearance, while his broad shoulders spoke of physical strength and power.

Despite all the training she'd done, learning to feign indifference, to contain every thought behind an inscrutable mask, she knew she'd shown her hand when she'd blushed. His maleness had affected her. She'd felt the heat creep up her neck and into her cheeks.

But then he'd started to question her and something inside her shifted.

As mortifying as her response toward him had been in the moment, it occurred to her that it complimented the role she would play henceforth. From now on, she was no longer bold and daring, but rather a meek, perhaps even shy and rather unworldly, young woman. Completely nonthreatening.

"How do you feel it went?" Harlowe asked later as they headed back to Clearview House by carriage.

The ball itself had been everything she'd ever dreamed of. She hadn't lied when she'd told Mr. Croft of her wish to experience one such event. As for the man himself…

"I found a subject with which to engage Croft's sister." A quick assessment of the young woman's slouch as she'd shifted from foot to foot had prompted a comment about uncomfortable slippers. "He approached a while later and introductions were made."

"So I saw."

"He's protective of her," Samantha noted, "and suspicious of anyone he doesn't know."

"I assume that's why you decided to keep it brief?"

"Yes. Coming across as eager would not have served our interests."

"Agreed." He eyed her as the carriage bounced along the cobbled streets on its way out of London. "You did well tonight, Samantha. I'm proud of you."

The comment warmed her immensely. Ever since he'd whisked her away to Clearview House for the very first time, she'd felt indebted. As the years had gone by, the fatherly concern and consideration he'd shown toward her had made her increasingly fond of him. She owed him her life and it was time for her to repay his generosity.

The carriage turned, allowing a beam of moonlight to fall through the window and play across Harlowe's features.

"His sister has invited me to join her for tea on Tuesday."

"An excellent start."

Samantha set her elbow against the edge of the window and sought Harlowe's gaze. "I'm thinking of coming up with some sort of excuse not to."

"Why? Getting inside Croft House so you can search for the proof Kendrick needs is your prime objective."

She shook her head. "It's too soon. Croft will be no less wary of me when I show up on Tuesday than when I engaged his sister in conversation tonight. But if I cancel, it will look as though I've no urgent interest in his family, and he might relax a little."

"Which will make it easier for you to do your job," Harlowe mused.

"Precisely." The carriage left the City behind, picking up speed as it travelled the country road. Clearview wasn't far. They'd reach it within another ten minutes. "I'll need a few tools at my disposal – an inconspicuous errand boy who's stealthy enough to double up as a watcher, someone who can help me expand my social network, and a rented room somewhere in the City where I can keep supplies, seek shelter, and catch some rest if need be without the hassle of trekking back here."

"I know a man you can speak to regarding the errand boy. Wycliffe's his name. Runs a gang of thieves out of St. Giles."

"Not exactly the sort of man we'd have 'round for tea then."

"My experience with him in the past has been positive. I'll give you his address once we're home. As for the contact you need, I'm sure Melody can help."

Samantha had already considered speaking with her. "It surprised me that she wasn't there tonight."

"From what I learned, the dowager marchioness was feeling unwell."

"I'll call on her tomorrow then."

"As for the room you wish to rent, I really must ask if you think that's wise. Don't forget the part you're meant to be playing, Samantha. Proper young ladies do not move about unchaperoned. They definitely don't live alone in the City. If anyone were to find out, it could undermine everything."

He wasn't wrong. And yet…

"I need to have a place I can escape to. Especially if I get injured." When Harlowe didn't reply to this, she told him firmly, "I don't know what the future will bring, but I'd like to be prepared for any eventuality instead of trying to muddle my way through a challenge I didn't see coming."

The carriage rolled to a halt in the graveled driveway, and the door was pulled open by one of the footmen. Dorian leaned forward, but before he alit he sent her a backward glance. "Promise me you'll be careful."

She nodded despite her concerns, convincing him as best as she could that he had nothing to fear. "Of course."