“Please place the crates before the shelves.” There was no furniture to block the floor-to-ceiling library shelves.

  “I see you are quite prepared to begin,” he finally said.

  “I’ve been prepared for this task from the first moment I stepped into your office.”

  His face heated a bit. It was embarrassing to have someone actually witness the disorder and know how it had come about. “I thank you for your assistance.” He grasped her hands in his.

  A smile graced her delectable lips. “It is my pleasure, Mr. Bridges.”

  Once again he had the urge to kiss her. It must be because he was grateful for her assistance. She was beautiful with her flaming hair and intelligent grey eyes, but one such as she would drive him mad. She was irritating, stubborn, forthright, and intrusive. Those were not qualities a man sought when considering courtship of a woman.

  What was he thinking? Why did courtship keep popping up in his head? He needed to dismiss it for good because the two of them would certainly not suit. He was simply grateful for her assistance. That was all. Their relationship was one of a business nature.

  If he were of a mind to court anyone, which he was not at the moment, he would seek a more biddable woman. Besides, the last thing he needed was to be giving any woman serious consideration. He could still end up in Newgate.

  Jonathan cleared his throat and let go of her hands. “I did get as far as separating the documents into warehouses receiving shipments. I have not put them in date order, nor attempted to match the documents as of yet.”

  “Then the rest should not be all that difficult.”

  If only he could believe her words. There were months of dates to organize and match with invoices, receipts, and shipments. He had barely scratched the surface of what needed to be done and he had to report to Valentine on Monday. “Perhaps I should stay and assist.” He knew it was a very bad idea as soon as the words left his mouth. Being alone with Miss Mirabelle was dangerous and he wasn’t certain he could keep his mind on the task at hand; especially when she looked so desirable even in that simple gown. Goodness, the way the bodice molded her breasts was enough to make a man wish to do things that had nothing to do with paperwork.

  She smiled gently. “You have a business to run and cannot be away.” Miss Mirabelle linked her arm with his and escorted him to the door. “I will see to this and you can concentrate on more pressing matters.”

  He wished to argue that this was the most pressing but the warmth of her hand on his arm stole his speech. He was instantly calmed and comforted the moment she touched him. How very odd that this has happened twice now. He wanted to stay and absorb the comfort she offered.

  “I will report on any progress,” she insisted.

  She was turning him from the house, which was probably for the best. He had the strangest reaction to her, one he could not explain. It was best if he was at his warehouse and she was here.

  Thank goodness Bridges had not insisted on remaining, because Geneviève wasn’t sure if she would be able to concentrate with him in the room. There was something about Bridges that drew her, but she could not put her finger on what it was. He was handsome, of course. She had noted that fact the first time she had met him. Today, however, was the first time she had seen him put to rights. Even when he had called on her at Acker’s home his hair had been a bit mussed and his cravat slightly askew. Today, everything was in place and he was clean-shaven. Her breath had almost left her when she opened the door to find him on the other side. Thank goodness her irritation at being delayed held tight or she might not have greeted him at all, but stared into the warm brown eyes.

  Goodness, what was coming over her? He was a gentleman who requested her assistance on a matter of great importance. He probably gave her little thought above a pseudo employee. Yet, her attraction to him was more than one should feel for an employer. Her fingers nearly tingled when she laid her hand across his arm to lead him from the house. Such a thing had never happened to her before and it was very strange indeed. What did it all mean?

  Was it because she admired him?

  Geneviève pursed her lips and settled in the chair behind the makeshift desk. She did respect him more than most gentlemen of her acquaintance. He may have been reluctant for her assistance at first, but he had come to her eventually, accepting that she could be of a benefit. No gentleman had ever treated her as such before. It was liberating in a way she hadn’t experienced before coming to England.

  That was it. There was nothing more to her attraction to Bridges other than he recognized that she was intelligent enough to be of assistance and admitted that he needed her. This was a business relationship and she would treat it as such.

  She glanced about the room. Goodness! She hadn’t even looked at the documents. Already he had muddled her mind and she mustn’t let it happen again or he would relegate her to the list of useless females as her brothers had.

  Chapter 10

  Jonathan wandered into the warehouse intent on helping the workers. Jones had everything in hand and didn’t appear to need his assistance. One side of the warehouse had crates waiting for delivery or retrieval. The other side held crates to be loaded onto a ship. These records were also in his office. The crates at the far back of the warehouse, almost in darkness, were yet to be determined. Were they to be shipped somewhere, or received to be delivered in London? If there were only a few, he wouldn’t be so concerned, but there were over a dozen.

  Hopefully, by the time Miss Mirabelle was finished organizing the documents, all of the crates would be sent to their destination. With any luck, he would find that his secretary had only been incompetent and not a thief.

  Sickness churned in Jonathan’s stomach. If it were merely incompetence, his secretary would not have disappeared along with a few of the workers. How much had been stolen? That was the bigger question.

  At least the warehouse was now well in hand and Jonathan wandered back to his office. It seemed almost empty now that the piles of documents were gone. His desk was clean again with the exception of the few invoices relating to this morning’s shipments. It would not take long to see that they were handled and filed accordingly, which left him with a good portion of the afternoon free.

  He leaned back in his chair. With the warehouse once again operating as it should, there was little for Jonathan to do. Should he return to the house on Henrietta Street and assist Miss Mirabelle? There was a good deal of paperwork to get through and two people would certainly be more beneficial than one.

  What if she had questions? He should be there to answer them for her.

  Yet, it wasn’t the wisest decision either. He was drawn to her despite the fact that he knew better. What if Acker found out they were alone in the house? Her reputation would be ruined unless Jonathan did the right thing by her.

  No, a match between the two of them would never work. She would never let his business be. He could envision a future of her trying to tell him how to run things when she should be concerned with her home and a family. No, they would never get along and, for that very reason he should stay away.

  Not to mention that twice he had to fight the urge to kiss her. An employer does not kiss employees. Of course, until today, he only had men working for him so the situation had never presented itself before. But, he did want to kiss Miss Mirabelle and more if he were honest. There was an energy and confidence that drew him. Perhaps it was because he had been so caught up and worried about the warehouse and his sister, it was refreshing to meet a woman who seemed to care about him and have compassion for his situation.

  Miss Mirabelle was unlike anyone he had met before and he truly wanted to know her better.

  But, now was not the time. Perhaps when the mystery had been solved of the missing shipments and his secretary had been found. Then, he would have the leisure to call upon Miss Mirabelle for a more pleasurable visit, such as a walk in the park. Of course, that is assuming she hadn’t lost complete respect for him by the time all the issues were resolved.

  Jonathan groaned and slouched in his seat. Who was he trying to fool? An intelligent woman such as Miss Mirabelle would never see him in the light of anything other than an employer. Not only must she be disgusted by the way he let his business flounder, but he wasn’t anyone of importance. Certainly, he was wealthy and hoped to still be when this was behind him, but he was in trade. Acker will probably introduce Miss Mirabelle to the ton this spring. Once she experienced the glamour of a ballroom in Mayfair, she would quickly forget he ever existed or that she had spent the latter part of winter righting his wrongs. The more lords that pursued her, as they surely would unless they were blind and idiots, the further he would slip from her memories. No doubt before the season ended she would receive several marriage proposals to consider.

  “Bloody hell!”

  Geneviève was surprised to find Mr. David Thorn being led into the library. He paused and looked about. What was he doing here? She glanced at the clock. She had completely lost track of time. “I apologize.”

  “What are you working on so diligently?”

  Oh dear, what did she tell him? Certainly not the truth. “How did you find me?”

  He chuckled. “When I called on you at Acker’s, Mrs. Stanwick, pulled me aside and said that I might find you here.”

  Of course, Thorn had been here the night Hélène was injured in her dual with Stanwick. Thorn had also returned the next day and learned the truth about her family. It was a relief she didn’t have to pretend about that part of her life, but he couldn’t know what she was doing with Bridge’s documents. “I promised to go through paperwork.” She rose from her seat and came around the makeshift desk, intent on escorting him from the room. “I hope your mother is not upset that I have kept her waiting.”

  “Mother is indisposed this afternoon, but I thought we could walk as it is a lovely day.”

  She blinked at him. Why would Thorn wish to walk with her? She knew the types of ladies he pursued and she was not one of them.

  Still, she needed to get him away from the house before Thorn saw something he shouldn’t. “That sounds lovely.” She led him back down to the foyer and waited for a maid to retrieve her pelisse. The young woman returned also ready for an outing. Of course, Thorn would expect her to have a maid trailing behind, and thankfully the maid knew what was necessary because once again, it hadn’t occurred to Geneviève to insist on the chaperone. Given she would be with Thorn; perhaps she should bring two or three along. The man did have a very wicked reputation though she suspected most of it was based on gossip and little fact.

  Geneviève shook the silly thought from her mind. He was no more interested in her than she was in him.

  They exited into the sunshine. For it only being February, the air was pleasant without a cloud in the sky. They turned at the corner and continued into the Square. The vendors who usually filled the space in the morning, selling flowers and produce, had since vacated, leaving the area open for others to stroll at their leisure. Geneviève tucked her hand into the crook of his offered arm and wondered at the different response. Her fingers didn’t tingle nor did she feel much of anything. Of course, she had slid on her gloves and that could be the reason there was no reaction.

  She tilted her head and looked at Thorn from the corner of her eye. He was a handsome gentleman and had always been kind to her, even when she was a servant in his parents’ household. He also cornered her on a few occasions and attempted to kiss her. But, when she refused, he backed away. He may be a flirt, known seducer of women, but once a rejection was uttered, he removed himself. She had heard stories that that was not always the case in other households, with maids being targets of young lords to be used as they wished, whether the young woman was agreeable or not. Thorn was not like them, which is why she did not fear being in his presence. Besides, she was certain there were far more women willing to agree to his seduction than reject him.

  “I have been intending to call upon you,” he said after a moment. “You disappeared without a trace last summer and I was shocked to find you in December.”

  She nodded.

  He leaned in. “Then to learn about your family…” he whispered.

  She stiffened. “You have not told anyone, have you?”

  Thorn pulled back. “Of course not. Bentley will handle the situation in his own way and I would be the last person to speak out of turn or start rumors.”

  His tone had turned a bit bitter at the end. Had he suffered from more rumors than she was aware?

  “I know what people say of me,” he said after a moment. “I assure you that it is either untrue or grossly exaggerated…”

  “You do have a rather wicked reputation,” she reminded him. Goodness, she had not expected him to come right out and mention what she had been thinking.

  Thorn offered her a rakish grin. “Ah, but only with those who also wish to be wicked.” He leaned in. “As you are well aware.”

  Heat infused her cheeks. Despite the freedom she enjoyed in Milan, this was not an appropriate conversation. Why had she even mentioned it?

  “We could have enjoyed much, the two of us,” he said, then turned and stopped before her. “We still could.”

  She could well understand why ladies succumbed to his charms, but he didn’t have the slightest effect on her. Why was it that Bridges left her breathless while one of the most dashing rakes of the ton didn’t even cause her pulse to increase? Her hands didn’t tingle when they touched, nor did her knees feel weak and she had absolutely no desire to kiss this gentleman. Was something wrong with her?

  “I refuse to be another conquest.”

  His shoulders dropped. Did he really think she would fall into bed with him?

  He linked her arm with his and they continued walking. “I never seduce innocents.”

  Then why was he attempting to do so with her? “I try not to listen to gossip,” she said instead. It didn’t matter where one lived; vicious gossip was everywhere and damaging. Why didn’t people mind their own business? If they did, Bentley wouldn’t be so concerned with how Society would view the news of her mother and sisters.

  “I just wanted you to know,” he muttered.

  They walked in silence for a bit more. She was not used to the quiet when with another. Usually, someone had something to say. While it was pleasant, it was a bit uncomfortable. What were his intentions?

  “What were you working on so diligently?” he asked with a curious tone.

  “I am helping a friend organize some documents.” It was the truth, she supposed. Bridges had found the papers hidden away, yet was he a friend? That was yet to be determined. She was an unpaid employee, but was she also a friend? She would like to be his friend. Bridges seemed the type of gentleman who could use one. Not that she knew anything about him outside of their current situation, but she witnessed enough to know that his life was spent in his shipping offices.

  “There seems to be quite a bit of organizing that still needs to be done.”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t about to offer anything further. If Bridges wanted to share his current circumstance with anyone, he should do the telling. Not her.

  Thorn chuckled. “Is it all so secret then?”

  She blinked up at him and smiled. It was all the answer she would give.

  He chuckled again. “I see. Remind me that if I ever need a secret kept, you are the one I should tell it to.”

  Goodness, she hoped he never shared anything with her. Yes, she did keep secrets and was good at it, but it didn’t mean she liked the burden of having them. Especially anything Thorn might wish to share.

  They rounded the corner and were once again on Henrietta Street. They stopped before the townhouse. “Might I call on you tomorrow? I know Mother will be available to meet with you.”

  She couldn’t allow anything further to interrupt her work at this time. “Would a week be too much to ask? I would like to finish my current project before I begin another.”

  His eyes dimmed with what she interpreted as disappointment. “Of course. I will advise mother.”

  Chapter 11

  The carriage pulled before the house on Henrietta Street and Jonathan was just about to emerge when he spotted Miss Mirabelle walking toward him, her arm linked with Mr. David Thorn’s. What were the two doing together? Did she have no idea of that man’s reputation? Of all the gentlemen in London, she should not be seen with that reprobate.

  Irritation boiled beneath the surface. Someone ought to protect her and make sure disreputable characters were kept at a distance. Did Acker know who his sister-in-law was walking with? Why had Thorn called on her here and not where she lived? How did Thorn even know Miss Mirabelle would be at this location? Were the two courting? Knowing Thorn, it was more likely he was setting up a secret liaison. Or had he already? The thought sent anger surging through his veins.

  This would never do. Miss Mirabelle was too lovely of a lady. Too kind and intelligent to take up with the likes of Thorn. The man had a reputation for breaking hearts, and ruining young women and Jonathan would be damned if he allowed Thorn to do so to Miss Mirabelle.

  But, what could he do? If he spoke to Acker, he might ask why he was at the house on Henrietta Street and what explanation could he offer?

  Damn and blast. It was something he would have to take care of himself. She needed to understand the danger Thorn offered. Besides, Jonathan didn’t like it one bit seeing her hand on another gentleman’s arm. For the moment, she belonged to him, even for only a short time, and Jonathan would be damned if he allowed another gentleman near her.

  He pushed the carriage door open after Miss Mirabelle entered the house and Thorn disappeared down the street. Taking a deep breath, Bridges marched up the few steps and lifted the knocker. He wished to pound on the door but refrained.