described with naughty laughs. A physical pleasure that she certainly could never have felt with Radnor. “I don’t think so.”
“Believe me, you would know if either of you had,” he said sardonically.
Lottie thought of the way that Gentry had touched her in the firelight, the coiling sensation she had felt in her breasts and loins and stomach, the sweet aching frustration that had tormented her so. Had that been climax, or was there more she had yet to experience? She was sorely tempted to ask her companion, but she kept silent out of fear that he might mock her for her ignorance.
The sway of the well-sprung carriage lulled her, and she yawned tightly behind her hand.
“You should rest,” Gentry said quietly.
Lottie shook her head, reluctant to abandon herself in slumber while he watched. How silly to fear that small intimacy after all that had happened between them. She sought for a new topic of conversation.
“Why did you become a Bow Street runner? I can’t believe you chose such a profession willingly.”
A laugh rustled in his throat. “Oh, I was willing enough, considering the alternative. I made a deal with my brother-in-law, Sir Ross, three years ago. At the time he was chief magistrate of Bow Street, and he had evidence in his possession that would have had me dancing in the wind, had it ever been presented at a trial.”
“Dancing in the wind,” Lottie repeated, puzzled by the unfamiliar expression.
“Hanging. Dangling at the end of a rope. Believe me, I should have been drawn and quartered for some of the things I did in my underworld career.” Pausing to observe the effect of his words, Gentrysmiled slightly at her obvious unease. “In an effort to avoid the uncomfortable position of having to execute his wife’s brother,” he continued, “Sir Ross offered to conceal the damning evidence against me, if I would double-cross my underworld associates and become a runner.”
“For how long?”
“Indefinitely. Naturally I agreed, as I had no loyalty to my former companions, and I didn’t fancy having my neck stretched.”
Lottie frowned. “Why did Sir Ross want you to become a runner?”
“I believe he had the mistaken impression that a few years of public service would reform me.” Gentry grinned suddenly. “It hasn’t yet.”
“Isn’t it rather hazardous for you to hunt criminals in such places, after you have betrayed them?”
“More than a few people would like my head on a silver platter,” he admitted with reckless confidence. “In fact, you may not have to endure me for long. Everyone who knows me will vouch for the fact that I’m going to die young.”
“I probably won’t be that fortunate,” she said sardonically. “But one can hope.”
Immediately after Lottie said the words, she was inundated with shame. It wasn’t like her to stoop to such nastiness. “I’m sorry,” she said at once. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“That’s all right,” he said easily. “I’ve inspired people to say much worse, with less cause.”
“That I can believe,” she replied, and he laughed.
“I’m going to snuff the light,” he said. “I have to take my rest when and where I can find it. And tomorrow promises to be busy.”
The silence that followed was surprisingly comfortable. Lottie settled into the corner, exhausted and dazed by the unforeseen direction her life had taken. She had expected that sleep would be elusive, with all the thoughts buzzing through her mind. However, a deep slumber soon overtook her, and she sagged against the seat cushions. Shifting, twisting restlessly, she sought a more comfortable position. She felt herself being gathered up and held like a child, and the dream was so soothing that she couldn’t help but surrender to the insidious pleasure. Something soft brushed her forehead, and the last few pins that anchored her coiffure were gently drawn from her hair. She inhaled a wonderful scent, the crispness of wool and shaving
“Believe me, you would know if either of you had,” he said sardonically.
Lottie thought of the way that Gentry had touched her in the firelight, the coiling sensation she had felt in her breasts and loins and stomach, the sweet aching frustration that had tormented her so. Had that been climax, or was there more she had yet to experience? She was sorely tempted to ask her companion, but she kept silent out of fear that he might mock her for her ignorance.
The sway of the well-sprung carriage lulled her, and she yawned tightly behind her hand.
“You should rest,” Gentry said quietly.
Lottie shook her head, reluctant to abandon herself in slumber while he watched. How silly to fear that small intimacy after all that had happened between them. She sought for a new topic of conversation.
“Why did you become a Bow Street runner? I can’t believe you chose such a profession willingly.”
A laugh rustled in his throat. “Oh, I was willing enough, considering the alternative. I made a deal with my brother-in-law, Sir Ross, three years ago. At the time he was chief magistrate of Bow Street, and he had evidence in his possession that would have had me dancing in the wind, had it ever been presented at a trial.”
“Dancing in the wind,” Lottie repeated, puzzled by the unfamiliar expression.
“Hanging. Dangling at the end of a rope. Believe me, I should have been drawn and quartered for some of the things I did in my underworld career.” Pausing to observe the effect of his words, Gentrysmiled slightly at her obvious unease. “In an effort to avoid the uncomfortable position of having to execute his wife’s brother,” he continued, “Sir Ross offered to conceal the damning evidence against me, if I would double-cross my underworld associates and become a runner.”
“For how long?”
“Indefinitely. Naturally I agreed, as I had no loyalty to my former companions, and I didn’t fancy having my neck stretched.”
Lottie frowned. “Why did Sir Ross want you to become a runner?”
“I believe he had the mistaken impression that a few years of public service would reform me.” Gentry grinned suddenly. “It hasn’t yet.”
“Isn’t it rather hazardous for you to hunt criminals in such places, after you have betrayed them?”
“More than a few people would like my head on a silver platter,” he admitted with reckless confidence. “In fact, you may not have to endure me for long. Everyone who knows me will vouch for the fact that I’m going to die young.”
“I probably won’t be that fortunate,” she said sardonically. “But one can hope.”
Immediately after Lottie said the words, she was inundated with shame. It wasn’t like her to stoop to such nastiness. “I’m sorry,” she said at once. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“That’s all right,” he said easily. “I’ve inspired people to say much worse, with less cause.”
“That I can believe,” she replied, and he laughed.
“I’m going to snuff the light,” he said. “I have to take my rest when and where I can find it. And tomorrow promises to be busy.”
The silence that followed was surprisingly comfortable. Lottie settled into the corner, exhausted and dazed by the unforeseen direction her life had taken. She had expected that sleep would be elusive, with all the thoughts buzzing through her mind. However, a deep slumber soon overtook her, and she sagged against the seat cushions. Shifting, twisting restlessly, she sought a more comfortable position. She felt herself being gathered up and held like a child, and the dream was so soothing that she couldn’t help but surrender to the insidious pleasure. Something soft brushed her forehead, and the last few pins that anchored her coiffure were gently drawn from her hair. She inhaled a wonderful scent, the crispness of wool and shaving
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