Damn and blast. He should stop, intervene and insist she accompany him before it was too late. But, what right did he have to do so? She was a grown woman who made her own decision. Something she had made very clear on a number of occasions.

  Did she have any idea of the man’s reputation? She had to. Certainly, her brothers and Acker had warned her. Yet, there she was, being led to her Acker’s doorstep by one of the worst rakes of London.

  Perhaps her brothers had warned her and that is why she was with Thorn. The woman was stubborn and she would probably allow Thorn’s interest to continue because her brothers demanded that she stay away from him. If he had learned anything, Geneviève did not like being told what to do.

  Jonathan blew out a sigh of relief when Thorn bowed before Geneviève and left her at the door. At least he wasn’t going in. Yet, if he was honestly courting her, the man would have entered the home. This further assured Jonathan that the man was up to no good. It was time that supposed gentleman was warned way from Geneviève. Just because she wouldn’t marry Jonathan, didn’t mean he would stand by and watch her be ruined by another.

  He gave instructions for his driver to pull over then follow Thorn. Bridges didn’t want to assume the man was returning to his home but did intend to have a conversation with him.

  Though the day was rather chilly, Thorn entered Hyde Park. Jonathan left the carriage at the entrance and followed Thorn on foot. He found him sitting on a bench not far inside. This was perfect. They could have their conversation in private then Jonathan could continue on.

  “I believe you are following me,” Thorn said as Jonathan drew near.

  There weren’t many carriages out this afternoon so it would have been difficult for Thorn not to miss his. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  Thorn came to his feet. “For what purpose?”

  “What is your interest in Geneviève Mirabelle?”

  Thorn hitched a sardonic eyebrow. “I don’t believe that is any of your concern.”

  Jonathan fisted his hands. He would not hit the man – yet.

  “I do believe it is. This is the second time I’ve seen her walking with you.”

  “I rather like the lady’s company, if you must know.”

  Jonathan narrowed his eyes on Thorn. Lady? He couldn’t know she was a lady, could he? Why hadn’t Thorn said miss? “Stay away from her.”

  Thorn chuckled. “Now why should I do that when she appears to like my company just as well?”

  He took a step forwards, itching to break Thorn’s nose. Maybe if there was a flaw to the gentleman’s appearance he could no longer ruin innocent young women. “I will not see her ruined by the likes of you.”

  Thorn’s eyebrows rose. “Ruined? Likes of me?” He tilted his head. “What is your interest in Miss Mirabelle?”

  Apparently, Thorn used the word lady in the most general sense. Surely he could not know Geneviève’s secret.

  “That, sir, is none of your concern.”

  “Ah, but it is since I just informed Miss Mirabelle that I wished to court her.”

  Jonathan stumbled back. “Court her?” Thorn didn’t court anyone. He loved and left them. Was it possible he had honorable intentions toward Geneviève? Did she wish for Thorn to be courting her? Thorn would one day inherit, become an earl. What could Jonathan offer her? The title of Mrs., which was no title at all, but he did have wealth, as did Thorn. Bloody hell! He was almost afraid to learn the answer, but Jonathan asked, “And her response?”

  “That is between Miss Mirabelle and me.”

  Damn and blast, he was going to bloody the man’s nose and blacken his eyes. He might just break and bone or two in the process. “Stay away from her.”

  “I am afraid that might not be possible,” Thorn drawled. “I want her.”

  The man was courting death. “If you even think about touching even a hair on her head…”

  “I can avoid the hair as there are so many other delicious parts.” Thorn took a step back. Perhaps he realized his life was in danger. “And those lips.” He continued walking backward, putting distance between him and Jonathan. “Have you noticed they taste of tea and honey. Or perhaps it was her breath.” He shrugged. “Either way, she is very delicious.”

  He had kissed her! Jonathan raised his arm and his fist connected with Thorn’s nose. He wasn’t sure if the crunching came from his knuckles or Thorn’s face, but blood spattered everywhere as Thorn's head jerked back. He stumbled to the side, lifting a hand to his offended nose, and glared at Jonathan.

  “What the bloody hell did you do that for?”

  “You will never, ever think of Miss Mirabelle again. Nor will you go near her, or even think of touching or kissing her again.”

  Thorn drew a handkerchief from his pocket and brought it to his nose. Though his eyes watered, there was a mischievous twinkle in them. The man was a glutton for punishment. Perhaps if Jonathan beat him within an inch of his life and Thorn would rethink his attraction to Geneviève.

  “They lady may wish otherwise,” Thorn taunted.

  Jonathan raised his fist again and aimed for Thorn’s eye. It was blocked by Thorn’s arm.

  “Hold up,” he yelled. “Enough. Leave off.”

  “Not until I have your promise to stay away from her.”

  Thorn studied him for a moment. “Are you so much in love with her?”

  Jonathan gritted his teeth. He did not need to explain anything to Thorn.

  “Perhaps you should tell her.”

  Jonathan narrowed his eyes n. What was he about? A moment ago he wanted Geneviève for himself.

  “Miss Mirabelle is well aware of my feelings.”

  Thorn snorted. “Apparently not.”

  Jonathan stepped toward him again. It didn’t matter what Geneviève believed, so long as Thorn stayed away from her.

  Thorn threw his arm out to keep Jonathan at a distance. “She rejected me!” he yelled.

  He halted. Geneviève rejected Thorn’s suit? There wasn’t a woman alive who didn’t want Thorn, yet his Geneviève did not. Jonathan found himself grinning. He always knew she had sense. Well, most of the time anyway.

  “She claimed to care for someone else.” Thorn wiped his nose. It still bled and his cravat was spattered with red. “But feared the man in question might never come to his senses.”

  Jonathan quirked a brow. “She didn’t say who it was?”

  “Well, I certainly hope it is you. I don’t want to have to worry about watching my bloody back for the rest of the day.”

  “Yes, well, I agree.” Jonathan straightened. “I am glad we understand one another and you will stay away from my betrothed.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Betrothed. She mentioned nothing of marriage.”

  “It is something of a minor disagreement.” He bowed. “Good day, Mr. Thorn.”

  Chapter 29

  The family had gathered at Bentley’s townhouse. Everyone was present and had been since this morning. They were going to spend the day and evening together before she left for the ship with Rose and Lady Acker. The trunks were packed and stacked in the receiving room just off of the front entrance. Lady Acker joined them as well so that she could be with her son and Juliette could be with Geneviève.

  She should be excited about this trip, but she was cloaked with melancholy. It had been over three days since she had last seen Bridges. He hadn’t sent any further notes to indicate he had found her mother’s items. Would she see or hear from him before she sailed?

  Anxiety swept through her. She had to see him. She needed to talk to him one last time. She would not be able to enjoy her travels with always wondering if she should have agreed to marry him and live the life he painted instead of how she wished. Was her freedom worth the cost of her heart and never having Bridges?

  It wasn’t until she truly faced that she might never see him again that she realized she would give anything to have him forever. Even if it meant her days were spent shopping and gossiping.

  Geneviève couldn’t leave without seeing him one last time, even if it meant going to his warehouse. She suddenly stood, determination straightening her spine.

  Her family looked to her with concern and interest.

  “I need someone to accompany me to Bridge’s shipping offices.”

  All four brothers came to their feet. Were they each going or were they going to argue that she shouldn’t venture into such a dangerous area?

  “I will take her,” John announced. “Bridges and I have some unfinished business.”

  Bentley quirked an eyebrow at him.

  “We’ve discussed this and since I was the one there, I shall demand the answers.”

  Bentley nodded and took a sip of his brandy. Surely John wasn’t going to question him about the night in the cottage. Geneviève assumed that conversation was behind them. Perhaps John simply wished to discuss something else. She didn’t really care. All that mattered was that he was going to take her to Bridges.

  Jordan lifted his glass of brandy in a toast to John. This didn’t make sense, but who was she to question the gesture? They had all begun drinking a bit early. Supper would not be set for a few hours. But, this was a party, a sendoff, though there was little cheer in the room. Rose was anxious to be gone, but it was more to escape than to go on an adventure. Lady Acker was the only one who even appeared the slightest bit excited about the coming weeks, though her son wished she would remain where he could watch out for her. Would gentlemen always feel it was their duty to watch out for mothers and sisters?

  Did they feel it was their duty or was it deeper than that? The need to protect? It is what Bridges wanted to do. He wished to protect her when she didn’t need any, but it may be something as simple as the way gentlemen are made. Had she been raised with any males in her life, she might understand better but the only so-called gentlemen she had been around had been her mother’s lovers and the men in the theatre. They were not like her brothers, Acker, Brachton, or Bridges. The men in her life now were honorable, good and truly wished to take care of the females in their lives. It was also something she intended to get used to.

  As the door on the carriage closed, Geneviève heart hammered in her chest and her hands began to shake. Goodness, she couldn’t recall ever being this nervous.

  What if he rejected her? What if he had already put her behind him and moved forward?

  She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat, but it was impossible. Anxiety swept through her and Geneviève wasn’t certain if she wished the carriage to hurry or to move slower. She hadn’t realized how much she needed Bridges, loved him until she realized, she might not ever have him.

  Jonathan stood at the door to his office. All of the crates had been delivered to the rightful owners except those belonging to Geneviève and her sisters. Everything was working as it should in the warehouse and his business was back in order. Except for the piles of paperwork on his desk and the boxes of documents against the back wall. He should take care of all of this sooner than later but where to begin?

  Geneviève would know and have this office put to rights in the matter of a day, but he couldn’t ask that of her. He should hire a secretary, a proper one, and then his life would be settled once again. At least it would be once Geneviève agreed to marry him.

  She had to agree. He needed her and today he would get his answer. There were no more excuses for putting off calling on her. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her. He longed to hold her again and she invaded his dreams at night. He was simply putting off what he feared was the inevitable – that she would reject him once again and he would be forced to remove himself from her life.

  But, he couldn’t call on her looking like he did at the moment. He needed to put himself to rights and by the time he accomplished that task, it would be a reasonable time to call on the family.

  With a sigh, he closed the door to his office and made his way down the stairs. Jones would see the work completed for the day.

  As Jonathan settled into his carriage, he took deep breaths, hoping to release the tension in his chest, but it wasn’t going away. He should not even entertain the possibility of her rejection. She claimed to love him. Certainly, they could come to an agreement. He just had to make her understand.

  There was still the option of kidnapping her and sailing off to Scotland. That idea had not been dismissed and he was already having one of his ships made ready just in case it became necessary.

  It wasn’t kidnapping of course. Or was it? Would she hate him if he took such action? Geneviève wanted to be in control of her destiny. But what of the destiny they should share?

  Would Bentley and her brothers come after him if he did take her? They wouldn’t catch up to him of course. They would assume he took a carriage to the border and Gretna Green like so many did when they eloped. A couple could be married over the anvil in any place in Scotland and he had a mind to take his future bride to Edinburgh. Besides, he was thinking of opening another office there and the trip could serve two purposes. Not that he would spend much time working. Once he had Geneviève alone, there would be very little time spent outside of any inn they found. And, the quarters on his personal ship were quite roomy and comfortable.

  A grin pulled at his lips and he considered the many ways they could pass the time in his cabin.

  The carriage pulled in front of his townhouse and Jonathan jumped out and hurried to the door. The anxiety had begun to release its hold only to be replaced with anticipation. She had to say yes.

  Jonathan’s valet was waiting as instructed with a bath drawn and fresh clothing laid out. It wasn’t often that he made use of his valet, but today might just be the most important day of his life and he had to look his best.

  The back of his hand hit the door as he entered the bathing chamber and Jonathan winced. His knuckles were bluish-purple and slightly swollen from their encounter with Thorn’s nose. If his hand hurt this badly, Thorn must be miserable, which gave Jonathan great pleasure. The man had kissed Geneviève, after all, and deserved much worse.

  After his bath, Jonathan allowed his valet to shave him and then trim his hair before helping him into his clothing. Once the cravat was in place, Jonathan studied himself in the mirror. This was the best he could do.

  He grabbed his walking stick and hat and returned to the carriage and ordered the driver to take him to Acker’s townhouse. Once again his heartbeat increased. In a short time he would know her answer. Perhaps the fact that he had located her mother’s belongings might soften her toward him. That is all she wanted in the beginning but he wanted so much more now. Certainly, she felt the same.

  He didn’t wait for the footman to open the carriage door when it stopped before Acker’s home. Jonathan took a deep breath and lifted his hand to the knocker.

  A footman opened the door. “Is Miss Geneviève Mirabelle at home?”

  “I am sorry, Mr. Bridges, she is not. Would you care to leave a card?”

  Jonathan simply stared at the man. She wasn’t home? Where the blazes she? Didn’t she realize how important it was that he see her?

  He shook the ridiculous thought away. How could she possibly know and why should she be waiting for him to call on her? He simply assumed she would be waiting for him.

  What if she was with Thorn? Jonathan just might have to kill the lothario. “Might I have her direction?”

  “She, with Lord and Lady Acker, are at Lord Bentley’s.”

  Relief sliced through him. She was with her family. “Thank you.”

  He turned to return to his carriage. Traffic had gotten heavier. “I will walk to Lord Bentley’s. Please await me there.” It was quicker to walk than maneuver through the streets. Besides, he needed to expel some of his nervous energy and be calm when he saw her. He could not allow her to ruffle him in any manner because then they might argue and that would never do. They would most certainly argue in the future, but not today. At least he prayed they didn’t today.

  As he reached the stoop to Bentley’s townhouse he took another deep breath but the door opened before he could reach the knocker.

  “Yes, I would like a word with Miss Geneviève Mirabelle,” he announced.

  “She is not here, Mr. Bridges.”

  “What?” He shouldn’t have barked the question at the man, but he had been told she would be here. Where had she gone? “Might Lady Acker be available?”

  The man stood back and opened the door. “I shall announce you.”

  Jonathan was left cooling his heels in the foyer while the butler slowly made his way up the stairs. A turtle could climb them faster than that man.

  Where the hell had she gone? If Lady Acker didn’t know, Thorn would be his next visit. If he found her there, Thorn would die. It was as simple as that.

  The house on Henrietta Street. She could be there. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? And, if her family was here, she might be alone in that house, with the exception of servants. They could certainly have the much-needed conversation in private. He was just about to turn when Lady Acker appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Mr. Bridges, you wished to see me?”

  “I am in search of your sister. Might I have her direction?”

  “Might I ask what this is about?” Lady Acker glided down the stairs toward him.

  Jonathan fought the urge to pull at his cravat. He didn’t really wish to tell her the truth. That was between him and Geneviève. He cleared his throat. “I have located your mother’s items.”

  A smile burst on Lady Acker’s face. “I will be certain and tell her. Would it be too much of an imposition to have the crates delivered to the house on Henrietta?”