Chapter 7

Seven

Minnie was surprisingly unbothered about sharing a room with Lawrence under Lady Wimpole who had transformed into Lady Jessica’s, roof. They’d spent the last few days in such close proximity inside the carriage that Minnie was already used to the quirks of Lawrence’s character. She’d grown accustomed to the way he hummed and grunted, as if having a conversation with himself, when he was thinking, the way his hands twitched like they wanted to be holding sculpting tools when he became excited about something, and about the ridiculous way he smiled at almost anything, whether it warranted smiling or not. She appreciated his consideration for Clarence, who had been brought out and placed in one of the room’s windows with a view of the front drive, as well.

What she was not at all used to was changing out of traveling clothes, bathing, and donning a gown that was suitable for supper, all while Lawrence was so nearby she could hear him shuffling around. He, too, needed to bathe and change, so Prissy and a veritable army of footmen had brought up not one, but two brass tubs, placing one in the dressing room and one in the main bedroom.

At least they had not been asked to share a tub. Minnie was able to cast a great deal of social propriety aside to maintain their ruse, but sharing a bath with Lawrence crossed her limits.

Although, under the correct circumstances, perhaps after a bit too much wine, she could most definitely see herself bathing simultaneously with Lawrence. Bathing, in her experience, was a lovely prelude to other things.

She shook her head and muttered to herself, not unlike the way Lawrence was wont to do, as she scrubbed the travel dirt from her body, then stood from her bath as quickly as she could. It would do no good for her to let her imagination wander down those particular paths.

As much as it might have wanted to.

“I say, you are looking lovely,” a dinner-dressed Lawrence greeted Minnie when she finally emerged from the dressing room. His eyes glittered and his mouth pinched for a moment before he continued with, “Pregnancy agrees with you.”

Minnie found herself flushing at the ridiculous compliment as her heart lifted lightly in her chest. “You wretched beast,” she said, approaching him as he stood near the dressing table. “You are responsible for my condition.”

Lawrence laughed, and Minnie had meant it as a jest, but it was also true. Lawrence was the reason she had felt so happy and engaged throughout the sometimes arduous journey from London. She hadn’t thought about her plot or her intended destination for days, which had come as a surprise, since it had once been all she’d been able to think about.

“Would you be so kind as to do up the ties at the back of my gown?” she asked, turning her back to Lawrence and gathering up her loose hair, which she’d just washed, despite knowing that would leave it damp for supper, and holding it so her neck was exposed as well as her back.

“Certainly,” Lawrence said with a somewhat husky version of his usual cheer.

As soon as Lawrence stepped behind her and reached for her gown’s ties, Minnie became well aware of the reasons Lawrence’s voice had taken on the quality it had. All he did was fasten the ties of her gown so that it fit the way it was meant to. He did not dally overly long or take any sort of liberties. But his sheer proximity, the way his fingers moved across a part of her he had never touched before, never had a reason to touch, and the sheer, warm presence of him behind her had Minnie feeling as though he’d caressed her back and brought his lips to the pale skin of her neck.

She drew in a breath, nearly shivering when that caused Lawrence’s touch to become just a bit heavier. It was alarming to discover that she wanted his hands to venture away from her gown, to slide over her shoulders and across her collarbone. She wanted to feel the slight callouses on his fingers from his artistic work brush across her decolletage, and perhaps lower. More alarming still, she closed her eyes and fantasized about him clasping his large hand around her neck so that he was able to cut off her air and hold her very life within his power.

Lawrence cleared his throat a moment later, drawing Minnie back to the moment. She started and blinked as she came out of her fantasy, realizing the sensation between her legs was not a remnant of her bath.

“We should get a wiggle on,” Lawrence said with cheer that was decidedly false. “I’m certain we were expected at supper ages ago.”

Minnie turned slowly to look at him. His face was flushed and his eyes had gone dark with desire. If that was not enough of an indication of his state of mind, his breeches were noticeably tented.

“Let me put my hair up first,” she said, her voice coming out as rough and passion-tinted as his. “It will only take a moment.”

She moved to sit at the dressing table, reaching for her hairbrush, which had been unpacked earlier, with a shaking hand. The carnal draw toward Lawrence was so strong that were they in an inn instead of his former beloved’s home, she feared she would have done something about it.

As it was, she took her time brushing out her damp hair and fastening it into a simple chignon. She was capable of styling her hair much more quickly, but she took her time to allow Lawrence’s state to settle into something presentable for supper.

It took a desperately long time.

“There,” Minnie said at last, once Lawrence had finally stopped exacerbating the situation by watching her stroke the brush through her long, dark locks and had taken himself to the other side of the room to look out the window with Clarence. “I think that will do.”

“It will do nicely,” Lawrence said, smiling as he came over to take her arm.

Still, the tension between them bristled as they left their room and headed downstairs. Minnie tried not to look at him, tried not to dwell on how handsome and desirable Lawrence was, or how natural it felt for her to call him by his given name. She tried not to think about a great many things, but failed.

All of that changed, however, the moment they joined Lord Otho and Lady Jessica in the dining room.

“I remember how long it took to compel myself to do anything when I was in your condition,” Lady Jessica said as they all took their seats, her smile false and her impatience obvious.

“I did not want to rush my darling,” Lawrence said with an adoring smile that wasn’t as false as it should have been. “She requested that her feet be rubbed, and since there is nothing I would not do for my goddess, Minerva….”

Minnie nearly broke into laughter as she sat across the table from Lawrence.

More importantly, she noticed the quick pinch of jealousy in Lady Jessica’s eyes, along with the sheer incredulity in Lord Otho’s expression.

Perhaps that was Lawrence’s game. Perhaps he merely intended to show Lady Jessica what she had missed by throwing him over.

She tried not to think of that horrific possibility as well as the footmen raced around the table with the first course of the night.

“I hope you do not mind turtle soup, my dear,” Lord Otho told Minnie with a look that was a bit too friendly. “It is my understanding that women with your affliction do not always take to the food they are served.”

Minnie answered with a completely straight face, “I have found that instead of developing an aversion to food, I have developed quite a craving for it, my lord.”

She picked up her spoon and dove into the delicious soup.

“I am curious,” Lady Jessica said stiffly, glancing to Lawrence. “Where did the two of you meet? The last I had heard of you, Lord Lawrence, you were tucked away in the country somewhere, playing with clay.”

On second thought, Lady Jessica’s sour disposition might have been enough to put Minnie off her food.

“I have spent a good deal of time at my country house near Winchester, yes,” Lawrence answered the question with more grace than it deserved. “But I am working in the medium of marble these days rather than clay, as I am certain you remember.”

“We met when dear Lawrence rescued me from a ravening band of highwaymen as I traveled from my home in Wales to London,” Minnie said, a bit louder than she needed to.

Silence thudded down over the table for a moment, likely both because of Minnie’s outburst and Lawrence’s reminder that Lady Jessica was most definitely familiar with his work.

“Is that so?” Lady Jessica asked, which could have answered both statements, turning from Minnie to Lawrence.

Lawrence cleared his throat, his mouth pulling to one side for a moment. “It is,” he answered at last, meeting and holding Minnie’s eyes across the table. “The highwaymen were most fearsome, but my darling Minerva was attempting to hold them off with a particularly large hat pin.”

Minnie nearly barked with laughter at the gauntlet Lawrence had thrown down for her.

“It was an instrument designed to resemble a hat pin, but it was, in fact, a small dagger,” she said.

“Minerva is a master swordswoman,” Lawrence said, almost as an afterthought. “She trained with the Chevalier d'éon in Paris as a young woman.”

Minnie nearly snorted. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that Lawrence knew of the Chevalier d'éon, who lived half his life as a man and half as a woman, but was regarded as one of the most brilliant spies of the turn of the last century.

Lord Otho and Lady Jessica didn’t seem to know what they were talking about, and in more ways than just the chevalier.

“You…fought off brigands with…a hat pin?” Lady Jessica asked, her soup spoon suspended over her bowl, dripping greenish soup.

“She tried,” Lawrence said, setting his spoon down as he finished his soup. “She was on the verge of being defeated and subjected to the inappropriate attentions of the brigands when I stumbled across the scene and rescued her.”

It took everything Minnie had not to clap a hand to her mouth to prevent her laughter. To hear the way Lawrence told it, the highwaymen merely wanted to use the wrong fork at supper with her.

“One of them had already run me through,” she said, meeting and holding Lawrence’s gaze, and being as vague about the potential double meaning of her words as she could be, “but Lawrence fought the men off, scooped me into his arms, and carried me off to a nearby gamekeeper’s cottage on a local estate.”

“Would that be Lord Elan Dunbridge’s estate?” Lord Otho asked, absorbed in the story, but for all the wrong reasons.

“Er, no, I was closer to Romsey,” Lawrence said, nearly fumbling.

“It could have been the moon, for all I was aware.” Minnie tugged the story back into her control. “My wounds were grievous, but Lawrence was attentive and quick-minded in my care.”

“Lawrence?” Lady Jessica balked. “Quick-minded?” She let out a peal of sharp laughter and tipped her head back as the footmen served the next course. “Now I am certain you are inventing stories merely for entertainment.”

Lawrence lost his bright, passionate look, but instead of turning to fury, like Minnie’s mien had, he lowered his head far too sheepishly and studied the fish he’d just been served.

“I can assure you, everything I say is the absolute truth,” Minnie said in clipped tones. “Lawrence rescued me from tragedy and certain death. Without him, I do not know what I would do.”

She glanced back across the table to Lawrence, who lifted his head and met her eyes.

The sudden, warm and grateful smile that seemed to encompass Lawrence completely made Minnie’s heart skip within her chest. With that came the overwhelming desire to defend him from whatever social brigands attempted to attack him. She was more certain with every minute that passed that Lawrence had been attacked far too frequently in the past.

If it was the last thing she ever did, she would defend Lawrence against anyone who dared to turn their nose up at him or disparage him until her dying day.

Except that in just over a week, she would be on a boat bound for Ireland, then Stockholm to begin a new life.

“Do you not enjoy your fish, Lady Minerva?” Lady Jessica asked once the dish had sat in front of Minnie for a full minute without her touching it. “It is a specialty of our cook. He trained in Paris before the troubles there. It was quite a coup for us to hire him, as he swore he wanted nothing more than to retire.”

The rest of the supper conversation revolved around the improvements Lady Jessica had made to the house upon her marriage to Lord Otho, and around the servants she had hired. Lord Otho spent a fair amount of time lamenting the servants he’d lost in the past, though by the sound of things, they’d all quit due to Lord Otho’s heavy hand and demanding ways.

The food was excellent, though, and by the time supper was over, Lawrence and Lord Otho retired to smoke pipes and drink port, and Lady Jessica brought Minnie into her favorite sitting room for tea, Minnie had calmed down sufficiently to endure the after-supper moment.

“I am deeply appreciative of your hospitality,” she managed to say, scrambling to find ways to help Lawrence in his mission. “I do so admire the way you’ve decorated your home. Do you, perhaps, have any of my dear husband’s work in your collection?”

The speed with which Lady Jessica’s face turned stony and pink flushed her cheeks told Minnie that the woman did, indeed, still have the sculpture she and Lawrence were seeking in her possession.

But Lady Jessica’s answer was, “I do not know if you are aware of the sort of art Lawrence creates, but it is not suitable for public display.”

“It is very nice, though,” Minnie said, sipping her tea coquettishly and leaving the door open for Lady Jessica to giggle and titter and say naughty things to her.

Lady Jessica did the opposite. She sat stiffer and set her tea down. “It is not appropriate,” she repeated.

A different sort of curiosity struck Minnie. “Is that why you threw him over when he sought your hand in marriage?” she asked, arching one eyebrow and pulling the proverbial hat pin from her head.

Lady Jessica’s eyes widened a bit before narrowing into a different sort of understanding. “He told you, then?” she asked.

“He did,” Minnie said, finishing her tea and setting the cup down. “Lawrence and I share complete openness and honesty with each other.”

“Yes, well, that does not surprise me,” Lady Jessica said, tilting her head up slightly so that Minnie could see her flared nostrils.

Minnie swallowed her impulse to attack Lady Jessica for what might have been a slight. “You refused him because of his artwork?”

Lady Jessica laughed. “No, I refused him because he is the stupidest man in the Kingdom of Wessex, and in all of Britannia.”

Hatred so sharp that it sent bile up the back of Minnie’s throat gripped her. “I beg your pardon?” she asked in a harsh whisper.

“Surely, you must have noticed,” Lady Jessica said, her manner relaxing. Now she wanted to play the sister sharing wise counsel? “The man is pleasing to look at, and as I am certain you know, he has certain skills that make him decidedly tempting.”

Minnie went hot all over. She did not know, but after dressing for supper, she suspected. Now she desperately wanted to know everything.

“He is as simple as a child,” Lady Jessica went on. “One who never learned his letters. He cannot converse with any ease or grace, and he has embarrassed himself on so many occasions that I have lost count. He is silly.”

Minnie blinked and stared incredulously at the woman. Could not converse with ease and grace? Had they not just been sitting at the same table as Lawrence followed her in spinning the most delectable tale of excitement and adventure the dull woman before her had ever heard?

But then, Minnie was beginning to see that Lady Jessica’s idea of good conversation was probably merely parroting the same things that everyone else in the ton said. Lawrence did not care for such things, so she likely thought that stupid. And she must have discovered Lawrence’s difficulties with the written word.

“It is as if we know two different Lawrences,” Minnie said, pretending everything was amenable between the two of them. “I find Lawrence to be jolly and clever. I have never found myself bored in his company or wishing to escape before I perish from dullness. If you will excuse me, Lady Jessica,” she said standing before her hostess could fit a word in, “I believe I will retire for the evening.”

“Oh! I, er….” Lady Jessica tried to rise to bid Minnie goodbye, but she was too late and too clumsy.

Minnie swept out of the room with a scowl, indignant that someone as shallow and uninteresting as Lady Jessica could be bold enough to criticize Lawrence. All she had managed to talk about, nearly from the moment they’d arrived at the house, was her blasted improvements to the house and how brilliant she thought she was because of them.

As it happened, Minnie met Lawrence coming from the other hallway as she entered the front hall and approached the stairs. He, too, wore a scowl that hinted his conversation with Lord Otho had been just as frustrating as hers with Lady Jessica.

“I take it you’ve no wish to remain in company with our host?” Minnie asked as they met at the foot of the stairs and headed up together, shoulder to shoulder, walking in step.

Lawrence huffed an incredulous laugh and shook his head. “I’ve no wish to converse with a man who speaks of women as if they are horses.”

Minnie could only imagine what that meant.

“It is lucky for him that he has married a woman who resembles a horse, both in appearance and manner,” Minnie grumbled.

Lawrence peeked sideways at her, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Is that what you think of my former object of desire?”

Minnie shook her head as they reached the top of the stairs. “I do not know what you ever saw in her.”

Lawrence smirked. “If we find that statue you’ll see.”

That caused Minnie to burst into a wide smile as they neared their room. “I am determined to find your artwork, now more than ever,” she said, keeping her voice low. “And I no longer have even the slightest qualm in stealing it once we do. In fact, I think we should steal a few other things from these odious people while we’re at it. They certainly deserve it.”

Lawrence laughed as he stepped ahead and reached for their door handle. “Good gracious, woman,” he said, his eyes dancing with affection. “I’m beginning to wonder if I didn’t rescue the highwaymen from you instead of the other way around.”

Minnie laughed as they stepped into their room. “Either way, you were heroic,” she said.

Without thinking, she lifted to her toes and kissed Lawrence’s cheek.

The effect was scintillating. Lawrence twisted to face her, half catching her in his arms. Minnie didn’t pull back, which left them staring into each other’s eyes at close proximity.

More than that, Minnie was highly aware of the large, soft, well-appointed bed just behind him. It would take nothing at all for them to fall into that bed, where they could enjoy each other immensely, all night long.

“We should make a plan to search the house while we still can,” she said instead, her voice rich and gruff with desire.

“You are right, of course,” Lawrence agreed, the heat in his eyes palpable. “We must act before it is too late.”

Minnie wondered if he was still talking about the statue.