“Some fabric was left over from a polonaise Lady Colchester bought from Paris and the feathers….”

Phoebe stared from the beautiful gown that clothed her to the little woman in front of her. Truly, this was a clever artiste. And Hugh was a clever man for finding her.

He looked smug as now he shifted his attention from Phoebe to the dressmaker who’d just packed up her pins and started to leave, having received payment and praise obviously sufficient to her needs. Offering Phoebe his arm, he led her toward the window.

“Miss Lavendar has traveled some distance today, but I felt it was justified to employ the talents of someone I know could be trusted.”

Phoebe looked from where her hand lay on his sleeve, then up to his face, which caught the sunlight that slanted through the diamond panes and felt a surge of something that was not gratitude snake through her heart before traveling disconcertingly to her loins. She wanted to rub her hands over the short stubble of his chin.

Instead, she inclined her head. “You obviously hold great store by your sister’s opinion,” she remarked and then saw the shadow that crossed his face.

“My sister is a remarkable young lady.” She could tell it was not lip service either. When he spoke of her, he was altered. When he was flirting with Phoebe, the maidservant, he was as louche as any man. The contradiction riled her, but she was also impressed by his loyalty. How nice if any man had ever championed her.

“I think she must be a lucky young woman to have a brother like you.”

“Alas, I failed her as a brother when I did not observe the nature of the man to whom she was losing her heart.” A flare of anger darkened his gaze.

Wentworth, of course.

Phoebe looked at him inquiringly. Perhaps now, in this moment of intimacy, he would make a confidante of her. Maybe, dressed as she was, he’d forget she was supposedly a lady’s maid, so far beneath him.

It appeared he did. “About eighteen months ago, Wentworth was a visitor to our district. Ada met him at the Assembly Rooms.”

Phoebe felt grateful for his trust. “And he swept your sister off her feet, like he did my mistress? Mr Wentworth can be a very charming man when he wants to be.”

“Clearly, he was charmed. Ada was young and unused to the attentions of gentlemen, and she was offended when I tried to counsel her on the need for caution.”

“Oh dear, she was rebellious?”

Mr Redding rolled his eyes. “Back then she was although it was a long time before I realised just how far she had strayed, and indeed that Mr Wentworth was in fact the devil I now know him.” He sighed. “How I would wish to see a return to her wilfulness from those days though, for all the fire and life has gone out of my sister now.”

“Poor Miss Redding. But surely a young woman with spirit would want revenge against a blackguard like Mr Wentworth?”

“And how would a gently reared young woman exact revenge?”

Phoebe tossed her head. “My point exactly. I hoped you’d see the impossibility we women face every day of enjoying the justice so often denied us.” She touched his arm. “We need to employ clever men as our conduits. Your sister and I are lucky to have you, Mr Redding.”

She was astonished by the stab of feeling his amused and interested gaze unleashed within her. Her nipples hardened, and again she was aware of the heat in her lower belly that surely wasn’t just gratitude for the dress he’d paid for. Tempering her smile, she looked away. It was a relief she was still capable of warm feelings for a man, but she mustn’t allow herself to grow too fond of him. She was poised for escape at the first opportunity. She knew it was too dangerous to return to her aunt in Norfolk for that’s exactly where Wentworth would look soon. But soon she’d need to leave here and go far away.

“Well, together we shall prevail, Phoebe.” They’d reached the window embrasure where he put his finger beneath her chin and tipped her head. “I was thinking long and hard about what you said the other day.” At her inquiring look, he added, “That the way to bring Wentworth down would be to discover what he most wanted.”

“I already told you what he most wants. The estate he’s inherited through murder.”

“And you plan to return to Blinley Manor to spy on him, is that right?”

“I can’t possibly go into company where he might recognize me.”

Mr Redding frowned. “But the new dress. I thought that was your very intention. I thought you planned to pretend to be a lady—”

“A lady, yes, but not …” she trailed off, miserable and fearful.

“You are very loyal to your mistress, aren’t you, Phoebe?” His tone softened. “Yet, despite your boldness, you’re doubting your courage and ability not to make a misstep, aren’t you?” He drew her unexpectedly against him, and his hands contoured her curves, skimming up and over the fine muslin before cupping her face. “Don’t worry, Phoebe. I shall be your tutor.”

“My tutor?” She pulled away, not liking the change in him. “I hope you mean in your endeavors to turn me into a proper lady. I am not as easy as you might suppose, Mr Redding,” she ground out, fighting the urge to cry. Just when she’d begun to like and trust him, he’d reverted to type.

He put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m curious. You pretend you’re an innocent, but you clearly have experience of men. You speak and behave like a lady. Who are you really, Phoebe?”

She wasn’t ready to confess her identity when she wasn’t sure enough of him.

“Were you trading on past experience to be so beguiling when you desired a new dress? Were you a rich man’s mistress, perhaps?”

Phoebe hung her head. That’s exactly what she’d been, and her silence seemed to confirm it in Mr Redding’s mind.

“So, once you had a rich protector, but now you’re a lady’s maid?”

Unable to look him in the eye, she nodded, tears threatening.

“And now I am your protector and am funding a new wardrobe?”

Slowly, she raised her head. “So this is when you ask me to sleep with you?”

He seemed to be thinking, staring out of the window with a troubled frown. “I had no idea my wild adventure to apprehend Wentworth would lead to this.” He returned his look to her. “To rescuing a beautiful woman and keeping her safe.” He appeared to resolve upon something for he added, “But gallant gentlemen rescue maids in distress. Opportunistic blackguards seduce them.” His sudden smile took her by surprise, sending her heart into freefall. “Have no fear, Phoebe. I shan’t make uncomfortable overtures and trade on my good fortune in adding an accomplished, entertaining, and exquisite-looking woman to my household. Not if the idea is so repugnant. No, I promised a fair trade: your information to bolster a case against Wentworth.” His voice dropped as his eyes traveled over her, lingering on her décolletage which, for the first time, was shown to best advantage thanks to the stays the dressmaker had procured in a hurry. “Perhaps one day I might persuade you of my inherent charm. But you will have to make it clear you’re…in the market.”

“I may have lost my virtue, Mr Redding, but not my dignity.” This was uttered in a less convincing tone. Phoebe slanted another glance at him. He was a fine-looking man. And a gentleman; not a blackguard. How many men would not take advantage where they could?

He put out his hand slowly, and Phoebe watched his seeking fingers gently skim the puffed roulade of her sleeve before advancing across her shoulder toward her bared skin. Anticipation rose, and she sucked in a shallow breath as he slowly contoured the edge of her gown, skimming the top of her breasts.

“I know you’ve felt more than just a passing interest in me, from the moment we met, Phoebe,” he whispered. His fingers were so close to dipping beneath the fabric of her bodice, but he restrained himself, and Phoebe felt a tugging, yearning feeling from the depth of her being and was unsure if she were relieved or otherwise.

By God, but he was making this difficult. She’d wanted any encounter of a physical nature to prove she was not the weak creature she’d always been with Wentworth. Yet she wanted only to step into this man’s embrace and see where it took them.

Swallowing, she suddenly pulled away, saying in an as disinterested a voice as she could manage, “What news of the murder at the manor? You were out on horseback in the village this morning, were you not?”

He remained where he was, matching his tone to hers.

“A dozen more men have been scouring the countryside looking for Lady Cavanaugh, but there’s not been so much as a sighting. Someone suggested she is so filled with shame and mortification she’s thrown herself down a well.”

Phoebe snorted. “I don’t think Lady Cavanaugh is one to be cast down by mortification for something she didn’t do.”

“Well, there’s no one standing in her defense except you, Phoebe.”

She swung around quickly. “No one? Well, I’m sorry to hear it, but I’ll not speak up and be the only one if it’s my word against Wentworth’s.”

“You might just have to since it would appear you are the only one to have witnessed his crime. There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that Lady Cavanaugh is her husband’s murderer.” He gave a sigh of frustration. “Are you sure there’s no one else who’d speak up in your mistress’s defense? That’s if she truly is innocent as you claim.”

“She is innocent,” Phoebe muttered sullenly. “But it appears Mr Wentworth is going to get away with his crime, after all. Doesn’t it?”

“Indeed. And in the days since the murder, you are I are no closer to achieving what either of us had hoped.”

Yes, only a few days had passed, but already Phoebe was growing weary of the lack of respect, bathing water, and other comforts she was used to. The servants in the house were barely civil to her, believing her to be Mr Redding’s mistress already, no doubt.

“So what do we do now, m’lord?”

He chuckled, reverting to the playful, slightly condescending tone he’d adopted prior to assuring her of his gentlemanliness. “I keep forgetting you’re a consummate actress, Phoebe, but although you’re adept at playing the lady of the manor, it only takes one misstep to be revealed for the imposter you are. No need to look so indignant. I am a gentleman; therefore you cannot refer to me as m’lord.” He put his arm about her shoulders and led her to the window embrasure, talking all the while as if tutoring a student. “But you are good, I’ll grant you that. Why, if the fancy took us, I do believe it would be quite a lark to take you somewhere I’d not be recognized and pass you off as my wife.”

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. “As your wife, sir? Why, you speak of a lark for the future which almost implies I was already your mistress. What was all this talk about just now, then? You do take a lot for granted.”

Mr Redding laughed easily once more, and Phoebe noticed the dimples among the smattering of freckles on his cheeks. He really was a handsome and good-humored man when he smiled. Phoebe couldn’t remember when lightness and easy humor were a feature of her endless days with either Ulrick or Wentworth.

His eyes narrowed but again with humor. “Oh, I think you’ll enjoy it, Phoebe. You like a challenge; I can tell.”

“I like a challenge, it’s true, but my greatest challenge right now is convincing you that my honor is greater than my mercurial desires.”

“You intend to see how much I’ll give you without you giving me anything in return?”

“I’m giving you amusement.”

“There’ll soon come a time when that’s not enough.”

“Spoken like a true male. Why, then, am I disappointed? Perhaps it’s time for me to move on, since my true value—that is, getting you Wentworth—has proven not such a great asset since I’m not going to speak to Sir Roderick and risk my neck for anyone.”

He sobered a moment, then laughed again, though less convincingly. “I never pretended to be better than I am. Perhaps I’ll just call in that kiss you promised, especially if I’m likely to find you gone in the morning and nothing more on offer, given our last conversation.” He pulled her back into his embrace, murmuring with his face inches from hers before he kissed her, “See if I can persuade you to stay.”

She was easy to win over, she knew. The touch of his lips upon hers, the sensation wrought by his fingertips upon her heated flesh was incendiary. She had no shame or compunction in surrendering to the moment, albeit briefly. She’d had little enough warmth and affection in her life.

But they were in the parlor. Mrs Withins was quite likely to enter without knocking, and Phoebe was not going to compromise herself to such a degree.

“By God Phoebe, but you know how to send a man wild with wanting,” he ground out as he kissed her neck.

“I’d…best place a chair against the bedchamber door tonight then, sir.” Phoebe tried to make her breathing soundless as she watched Mr Redding gazing at her with a mixture of desire and frustration after they’d broken apart. She was aware she was nearly at the point of doing something unwise, and her head spun as she gripped the table ledge for balance. She must ensure he did not notice her discomposure. Let him think she held all the cards. The moment he realized the extent of her attraction toward him, then her power was heavily diluted.

She cocked her head in the direction of the passage, smiling brightly as Mrs Withins entered the room. “Ah, perfect timing, Mrs Withins, as I needed someone to admire my new gown. Do you like it?”

She cast an impish look at Mr Redding and saw that he appeared as breathless as Mrs Withins though did not have the excuse of having climbed a set of stairs.

“That’s a gown fer a lady, and though it mightn’t be me place ter say it, reckon people are goin’ ter wonder ‘ow ye came by such a thing, Phoebe,” she muttered, swinging around to present her with her back and to ask her master, “I take it ye’ll be dinin’ alone this evenin’, sir?”

Mr Redding looked past the red-faced retainer and licked his lips as he contemplated Phoebe.

“There’s been a dearth of ladies’ company to enjoy, Mrs Withins, and as you rightly point out, young Phoebe here is doing a fine job of pretending the role and now even looks the part. I think I might indulge her just this once and see if she knows how to hold a knife and fork. I suspect her deficiencies might mock her if I put her through her paces.”

Mrs Withins gave a short nod. “Aye, well, if ye want entertainment, I’m sure Phoebe don’t ‘ave any scruples that’ll get in the way, sir.”

Phoebe gasped as she positioned herself in front of the rude servant. “I demand an apology this instant!” she said in her most cultured accent. “Mr Redding?” she entreated when no apology was forthcoming.

Mr Redding shrugged his shoulders as he sent her a look of shame. “I rely on Mrs Withins to feed me and keep me in comfort, Phoebe. I wouldn’t dare. As for you, I’ve funded a new dress with nothing in return.”

At least he made this point clear to his housekeeper, thought Phoebe, though the housekeeper looked skeptical. To push it home, Phoebe added, “Yes, you rescued me, and I’m grateful. I shall have to consider what recompense is appropriate.”

Mrs Withins put her apron up to her face. “What a den of vice the good miller’s house ‘as become. If I ‘ad anywhere else ter go I’d be packin’ me bags on the instant. In fact, it mayhap’ll come ter that if that baggage ain’t gone soon!” she added with a baleful look at Phoebe.

Phoebe watched her scurry out of the room, transferring her despairing look from Mrs Withins’s departing back to Mr Redding’s amused face.

“Well, you made your intentions very clear to the servants, didn’t you, Phoebe, promising me I’ll soon get what I want in return for your fancy finery.”

“She thinks I’ve already bartered my soul for a new gown.” Phoebe shrugged. “Perhaps I have.”