Page 50 of As the Devil Dares

“As soon as they’re old enough, we find them positions…the girls as maids or shopgirls, the boys as porters or apprentices. We’ve placed five children this winter alone.” Pride flashed across her face at that, but then vanished just as quickly beneath a tired sigh. “We can only help a few, but I’d like to think that the work we do here is important.”

“It is,” he murmured.

Slowly, she raised her gaze to meet his.

For a heartbeat, the vulnerability in her emerald depths rose unrestrained to the surface, and he saw her as more than the adversary set on ruining the future he wanted for himself, as more than the daughter desperately fighting for her father’s approval. What he saw was a kind and capable woman with dreams of her own, one who gave her heart and soul to the people she loved…A beautiful rose in the middle of a puddle of dirty water.

And he’d never met a more enthralling woman in his life.

She shook her head. “You don’t have to pretend to like the school. I know what you really think of me.”

No, he was certain she didn’t. Because at that moment, he was no longer certain himself. Not of her, not of Henry Winslow…not of his task to find her a husband. And certainly not of Winslow’s plan to benefit from the destruction of St Katharine’s. Her father was so confident that she’d accept relocating the school, so certain she’d put the company first. But as Robert stared at her now, a jumble of doubts twisted inside him.

Had he and her father misread her? Was longing to work at her father’s side a great deal more than wanting to prove a point, and far more important than simply rebelling when Winslow tried to turn her away?

“I like you, Mariah,” he answered, finally acknowledging the truth. Ignoring the puddle and what it would do to his breeches, he lowered himself to the floor until he was sitting close, hip to hip at her side, facing her. Close enough that he could see her swallow nervously as he placed his hand onto the floor on the other side of her, surrounding her on three sides with his body. “God help me, but I do.”

Her eyes widened, but for once, she didn’t attack. Or pull away. A small thrill of victory sped through him. Emboldened, he leaned closer.

His mouth lingered near enough to hers that he felt each of her warm breaths tease across his lips, and he sensed the moment when her breathing turned into shallow pants. The delicate sensation was maddening. So was the way she gazed at his mouth, as if half-afraid he would kiss her again. And half-afraid that he wouldn’t.

“Doesn’t it bother you at all, then,” she challenged softly, “that you want to marry me off for your own gain?”

“It isn’t like that.” She damned well knew it, too. But he couldn’t quash the flash of anger at that quiet accusation. Most likely because he’d wondered himself if that was exactly what he’d been doing since Henry Winslow challenged him with that task. He’d only been able to justify it by clinging to what he knew to be true—“Your father would never force you to wed a man you didn’t want to marry.”

“No.” Her voice emerged as little more than a whisper filled with hopeless exasperation. “Only take my allowance away and close the school.”

She unflinchingly held his gaze, as if daring him to deny it. But he couldn’t. If she ever decided to openly defy her father and refuse to participate another day this season, Henry Winslow might do just that. And it would have absolutely nothing to do with him or the partnership.

“I’m not your enemy, Mariah. I’m trying to help you.” He softened his tone, knowing that fighting against her only made her dig in deeper. “Tell me the truth now. Why did you refuse Olivia Sinclair’s invitation?”

Uncertainty darkened her face as she hesitated, then admitted softly, “Evelyn.”

He blinked. What did her sister have to do with this?

“Lady St James didn’t invite Evie,” she explained, pride and indignation lacing her voice. “If my sister isn’t good enough to attend her ball, then neither am I.”

He studied her face. That’s what this was about—a snub to Evelyn? The realization struck him of just how fiercely loyal she was to her sister, the same loyalty he and his brothers shared, and understanding settled over him. Her connections to her family were proving to be deeper than anyone gave her credit for. Including her own family.

Yet her younger sister’s reputation was as tarnished as her own, if rumors could be believed, since Evelyn was equally as adventurous and daring as her sister. He couldn’t blame the Sinclairs if they didn’t want either Winslow daughter at their ball. But knowing how gracious the countess was, he was certain she’d simply forgotten about Evelyn.

“It was an oversight,” he assured her. “Nothing more.”

A sniff declared that she didn’t believe him.

“Mother will secure an invitation for her. I’ll make certain of it.” He reached up to tuck a stray curl of black silk beneath the edge of her cap. Her siren song was irresistible, even all dirty and wet. “All right?”

She gave a curt nod, as if doing what he wanted cost her greatly. “Then I’ll send a note to Lady St James.”

He smiled faintly with relief. “Thank you.”

“But only because I don’t want to harm the duchess,” she clarified. Then, because the war between them mandated it—“I couldn’t care less what you want.”

Of course not. His mouth twisted with chagrin. “From you, Mariah, I would expect no less.”

Her red lips tugged upward in the start of a smile. No doubt the minx took his comment as a compliment. Perhaps it was. Although he was loath to admit it, he’d become fond of her stubbornness. And the challenge she presented because of it. No other woman had kept him on his toes the way she did.

Then she playfully swatted at his shoulder, as if signaling that this tender moment of understanding had ended and that they could resume the fighting they’d grown accustomed to.