Clandestine by Julia Ross Page B

generous—”
    â€œNo,” he interrupted. “I have my own reasons for helping you. I always do. I’m damned if I know why you think me either kind or generous.”
    She stared at him in obvious puzzlement, her hair unraveling around her face, a pulse beating beneath the skin of her speckled thrush throat.
    â€œYou dispute your reputation, Mr. Devoran?” she asked with a flash of amused audacity. “When you’re so universally respected and admired…and liked?”
    He deliberately buried the self-recrimination, and told her the simple truth. “You don’t need to like me, Mrs. Callaway. I ask only that you trust in my honor.”
    Color rose in a pretty flush over her cheeks—a lovely color that made him want to hold out his cold hands to warm them.
    â€œI didn’t mean to impugn your honor, sir.”
    â€œThen I pray you will trust me just a little further—” Guy broke off as someone knocked on the door. “Enter!”
    As lovely as night, still dressed as Nell Gwyn, Miracle walked into the room. A maid stood behind her.
    Guy met the question in the dark eyes and shook his head. Miracle walked past him to smile warmly at Sarah, who had dropped a small curtsy.
    â€œCome, Mrs. Callaway!” Miracle said. “You look worn out. If that’s Guy’s fault, I’ll pelt him with oranges until he turns blue.”
    â€œNo, indeed,” Sarah said. “Mr. Devoran has been everything—”
    â€œMrs. Callaway needs a guest chamber,” Guy interrupted. “She’ll be spending the night.”
    Miracle’s smile still had the power to smite every man in any room to the heart. “My dear friend, I’ve already seen to it.”
    She turned back to Sarah. “It’s far too late for you to return to your hotel, Mrs. Callaway. Penny here will show you to your room. I trust you’ll be comfortable.”
    â€œThank you,” Sarah said. “Your ladyship is very kind, but it’s not necessary—”
    â€œNonsense!” Miracle ushered her toward the door, where Penny, the maid, stood at attention. “If you don’t seek your bed right away, I’ll have to send for some smelling salts. Though Guy possesses more sensibility than most, gentlemen rarely realize when a lady’s had enough.”
    Guy watched the blue skirts and tousled red hair as Sarah Callaway was swallowed up by the shadows in the corridor.
    He glanced back at Miracle to find her studying his face. She met his gaze and smiled with real affection.
    â€œI thought at least one of you might need to be rescued. I hope I wasn’t wrong?”
    â€œNo.” Guy flung himself into a chair. “God, no! Of course not!”
    â€œGood, because Her Grace would like you to dance attendance downstairs, before any more of her guests assume that you, too, don’t approve of me.”
    He laughed. “It’s beyond my aunt’s comprehension, I suppose, that I might not wish to dance?”
    â€œThe company simply needs to be made aware of the presence of my most charming cousin.” Miracle strolled to the fireplace. “You’re Ambrose’s godfather, after all. Meanwhile, I’m forced to wonder why you couldn’t bear to let Mrs. Callaway defend your character or motives just now. She was obviously about to do so. What’s the matter, Guy?”
    â€œNothing.” He glanced around for his abandoned pirate headband and fake weapons.
    â€œNo, of course nothing’s the matter.” Miracle ignored the mess on the table and poured herself a glass of wine. “You bring waifs and strays to Blackdown House on a regular basis, after enlisting my servants in all kinds of strange subterfuges, then ask both Jack and Ryder to play bodyguard until you can take over.”
    â€œSarcasm doesn’t suit you, my dear friend,” Guy said. “Though I’m grateful for your help