Everything I Ever Wanted (12 page)

"As you wish."

He did not think he had mistaken a slight change in the shape of her mouth as she let her head rest against the side of the carriage. "Tell me, Miss Parr, could Mr. Kent be moved to murder?"

She cocked one brow but did not raise her drooping eyelids. The script she had in her hands was allowed to slide to a place on the bench beside her. "Only if an actor forgets his lines, or the receipts fall short of expectations."

"I am serious."

"As am I." India roused herself to more industry when Southerton said nothing. She reminded herself that she did not know the well of this man's patience. Mayhap she had plumbed those depths already. "I cannot say what Mr. Kent could be moved to do if he perceived his company was threatened. But you will make a practice of looking over your shoulder, won't you? Contrary to my cautions, you deliberately brought attention to yourself this evening. By tomorrow your name may well be linked with mine, and the exact nature of our exchange will not go unremarked." India pushed herself upright and regarded him as frankly as the veil of moonlight would allow. "How do you propose to proceed, my lord?"

South did not mistake her meaning. "I intend to draw out Kendall's murderer," he said. "Whether it is the colonel's affairs or your own that provided someone with motive" He shrugged. "You must see you are the common link, Miss Parr. I believe that more time in your company, not less, is the proper response."

"I see." She had suspected this would be his answer. "What is it you expect of me? I told you there was someone."

"I know what you told me."

"You do not believe me?"

"It is not that exactly," he admitted. "Only that I have been unable to discover his identity."

"Aaah," she mocked him gently. "How frustrating for you."

Southerton wondered at the ease with which she accepted his declaration of failure. Was she truly so confident that the identity of such a person could not be found? "Not so much frustrating," he denied, "as challenging."

"Did you inquire of the colonel?"

"He was the first person I asked."

"And?"

"He was unaware of any romantic liaison."

She smiled, but no part of it touched her dark eyes. Her gaze remained level. "You would do well to turn your attentions elsewhere, my lord."

He raised one eyebrow. "You are threatening me, perhaps?"

"Hardly. I merely wish to point you in a direction where something might be accomplished. If I were to tell you that your probing into my affairs-and I do not use that word in the same loose manner as you are prone to doplaces me at more risk than anything I have undertaken on the colonel's behalf, could you be persuaded to put a period to it?"

"Are you telling me that?"

Now it was India who hesitated. "Yes," she said at last. "If it is your desire to protect me, then you must know your inquiries may kindle quite a different flame."

Where was the threat? South wondered. Mr. Kent? The lover she would not name? Who was it she feared? "Consider it done," he said.

She did not insult him by asking if she could depend upon his word. "Very well. Then we have arrived at the matter of how to proceed."

"How to"

India held up one hand, stopping him as the carriage slowed in front of her house. "Can we not simply agree on arrangements that will allow me to assist the colonel without necessitating you living in my pockets? That is what you had in mind, is it not? To become my very public protector?"

"It had occurred to me," he admitted.

"Then mayhap I am protecting you, my lord, by refusing such, for surely we would not suit."

South was not certain of that at all. Still, he felt compelled to point out, "It would have been for appearances only."

"Of course," she said dryly. "An arrangement of convenience."

South was moved to laughter. "Very well," he admitted. "You have me there." He was unused to being cornered so neatly. And this notion that she was somehow protecting him? It was intriguing. Though she had not issued a challenge, South thought he might be of a mind to disprove her notion that they would not suit.

"Well, my lord?" India prompted when South made no further reply. "You are musing rather overlong."

"What? Hmmm, yes. So I was." He brought himself fully to the present. "Our mutual protection, then. Let us agree." South was unprepared for the breadth of smile this small concession raised. India's lips parted, showing the white ridges of her teeth and tiniest slip of tongue pressed between them. It struck him that he had witnessed this animation in her before, but only from the distance of Eastlyn's box or his seat in the audience. He could be a fool for a smile such as the one she shared with him now. Onstage that smile made the lights redundant. Here, in the shadowed confines of a rented hack, India Parr had done the same with the moon.

"Where do you go?" she asked softly, her smile slipping away and her features returning to their naturally cool composure.

Torture could not have wrung the admission from him that he had just been to the moon and back. Though if she had smiled again he might have confessed all."I just wander off," he said. "I have been advised that it is a most annoying and impolite custom of mine. I beg your pardon if I have given offense."

She shrugged lightly, shaking her head. Far from giving offense, she found his introspection appealed to her. These brief unguarded moments allowed her to study him without fear of discovery or consequence. If he were her lover she might watch him in the same manner while he slept lightly beside her, his breathing softly drawn through slightly parted lips, his lashes laid down in a perfect dark arc beneath his eyes. "I do not mind."

"You would be the first who did not."

"Then you are acquainted with far too many intolerant people, my lord."

Southerton grinned. "I believe you are in the right of it there, Miss Parr. I will tell them." When India leaned forward and extended her hand, Southerton first thought she meant to touch him. The jolt he felt at the thought of it was in direct proportion to the disappointment he knew when she did not. Her slim fingers curled around the door handle instead.

"The driver," she said, "is taking his cue from us this time." She raised the handle but did not open the door. "Will you be accompanying me inside, my lord?"

Southerton very much wanted to do just that. Caution made him hesitate. "Let us see what Mr. Kent and his investor make of our carriage tryst," he said. "I am not convinced the wags will have the tale on the morrow. Kent will have his own selfish reasons for not carrying tales. He could prevail upon his investor to do the same. If there is no nine-days wonder, then perhaps we may attend to the matter of our mutual protection in secrecy. That is what you wanted from the beginning, is it not?"

She had. India refused herself the weakness of being contrary now. Protecting Southerton from things he did not understandbecause she could not explaingave her only three choices that she could immediately determine. She must cut him from her life entirely or allow him to live in her pockets. The third alternative was to proceed with such secrecy that it appeared he had no significance in her life.

Which he did not, she reminded herself. Even for the colonel, Southerton could have no wish to align himself with an actress, who by virtue of her profession was already possessed of a certain reputation. Oh, she knew the viscount's own repute would not be harmed by a public liaison with her. In truth, among his own set it might well be enhanced, if such a thing were possible. She was the one with much to lose by so public a connection to any man. For all that Mr. Kent might hold out the promise of companionship to an interested investor, she had never allowed herself to be compromised. No man who sought favor with her in the crowded confines of her dressing room had ever been granted private moments to do the same.

London society was slowly discovering that India Parr did not comfortably fit the mold cast for her. Even in the ratified air of the ton , where haughty noses were often raised so they would not whiff their own stench, allowances were being made for her. Yes, she had much to lose.

"You are frowning, Miss Parr," South said, watching her closely. "Has my question overset you?"

India felt the tension around her mouth and brow only after South brought it to mind. Not only was she frowning, she had the first inklings of a headache. It did not bode well for the sleep she deserved. "Explain to me how we may meet again with no attention coming to us. If that can be accomplished, my lord, then we are done hiring hacks between us."

South's laughter was a deep, pleasant rumble."An uncertain arrangement at best, was it not? Very well, Miss Parr. You have but to place a notice in the Gazette . Most any sort will do. What name do you fancy for yourself?"

She thought a moment. "Hortense?"

Since Hortense was not a character she played but one her character addressed in the course of the play, South decided it could be employed for the time being. "And I will use the initials T. C. S."

"T. C. S?"

"The Colonel's Servant, if you will."

"And then?" she asked.

"And then I shall come to you," he told her. "Never the other way around."

"But"

"It must be so, Miss Parr."

She acquiesced because she could identify no other choice. "As you wish."

"Not a wish," he said firmly. "An imperative."

Though it chafed a bit to take his direction, India nodded. "I understand."

"Good." South realized there was no longer any reason to linger in her company. He quelled the desire to raise her hand to his lips. "Farewell."

She nodded once, unwittingly pressing the knuckles he would have kissed to her mouth as she did so. She returned them to the handle and swung the door open. "Farewell, my lord."

Then she was gone. A few moments later, so was he.

It was a good parting, Southerton reflected later. They did not come to the attention of the wags and thus were free of public scrutiny. Their terms were set. They had agreement on how they meant to go on. India would continue to apprise him of such matters as she knew to be of interest to the colonel, and he would tread carefully where her private affairs were concerned. He related as much to Blackwood and was given the colonel's cautious approval to proceed.

To that end, South made no further inquiries into the identity of India's protector. He did not, however, cease to remain fully aware of her routine. In deference to her concerns, this was accomplished in the main through trusted individuals in his employ.

Because he knew everything had been done with discretion, it was all the more difficult to comprehend when the first intelligence he had of India Parr arrived in the Times , not the Gazette , and the import of it had the kick of a cannon's recoil.

London's diamond of the stage has caught the eye of one Lord M, recently returned to town from the Continent. It is said she has accepted his attentions exclusive of all others. It only remains to be seen how long a mourning period her defection will inspire in her devoted following.

Lord M? Who the bloody devil was Lord M? India had not seen anyone this fortnight past that she had not seen regularly. The visitors to her dressing room had not changed. The same hopefuls came to her with the same praise and pledges. At home she received only her dresser, the wardrobe mistress, Mr. Kent, and the lad Doobin. Her existence when she wasn't onstage was private, even insular.

Southerton tossed his carefully creased copy of the Times to the foot of his bed. His breakfast tray wobbled across his lap. What had he missed? he wondered. How had he allowed himself to be shilly-shallied down this primrose path? What M's did he know? Montrose. Milbourne. Matthews. Macquey-Howell. Morris.

"Darrow!"

South's valet appeared on the threshold between the dressing room and the bedchamber. "My lord?" He gave no indication, either by inflection or raised brow, that he was unused to being called in such peremptory tones.

"I want you to place a notice in the Gazette ," South said. "Anything you like will do. Only use the initials T. C. S. somewhere in the bloody thing." That would serve as notice that he intended to seek her out. Miss Parr could wonder and worry when it would happen. South did not feel compelled to ease her mind with specifics.

"T. C. S., my lord. Of course." He hovered for a moment, regarding his employer through a dark gaze that had perceptibly narrowed. Southerton had arrived home late last night or early this morning, depending on one's view of such things. It was of no concern to Darrow, merely a detail. The viscount's vaguely ashen complexion, the thick, wayward cross-hatching of black hair, and the rigid line about the mouth and jaw were what drew Darrow's attention. "It was Lady Calumet's gala last evening, was it not?"

Distracted, South simply nodded.

"I will fetch the remedy," Darrow said. He turned to go only to be brought up short as Southerton recovered his wits.

"The hell you will," South countered sharply. "I have no need for it."

"Begging your pardon, my lord, but you always say that and then you drink it and are the better for it. It is the salt and tomato seeds, you know. They purge the poisons."