Page 8 of By Any Other Name

Rylla was certain that her knees were about to give way. She struggled to pull together the pieces of her will and stepped back. “If anyone comes along, you will present a most shocking image, sir.”

Gregory glanced down at her male attire and ground his teeth. “The devil.” He turned away.

Rylla glanced up the street and saw a hack pull into view at the corner, stopping to let his fare alight. She took off at a run, waving to the driver. Behind her, she heard Gregory let out a curse and come after her. She knew she could not hope to outrun him for long, but it was a short distance and she had a head start. And it was wonderfully easy to run without skirts hampering her.

Luck was with her, for she heard Gregory’s footsteps skid to a stop, followed by a man’s irritated exclamation and Gregory’s hasty “sorry.” She reached the hack and, tossing the driver the name of a church near her home, jumped into the vehicle. The hack pulled away just as Gregory reached it.

Rylla stuck her head out the window, calling back to him, “Thank you!”

“Blast it. Stop!”

But her carriage rumbled off down the street. Rylla sank back against the seat with a sigh. It was silly to be downcast about the matter; she scarcely knew the man. But she could taste him on her lips, feel his heat as he pulled her to him.

The thought that she would never see Gregory Rose again was a cold ache in her chest.

Chapter Four

Gregory trotted up the steps of the graceful Queen Anne house where his cousin lived. He had wasted the morning in a frustrating and fruitless search for his mystery woman.

How the devil had he let her slip away? At least he had overheard her give the driver the name of a church. Certain that his lovely deceiver either lived there or was visiting a friend who lived there, he had set out this morning for St. David’s, only to discover that the pastor was a childless widower without a houseguest. After tramping up and down several of the nearby streets, Gregory had to admit that there was little possibility of coming upon “Rolly” by simply wandering around the area. That left him with only one slim chance: Cousin Andrew.

Despite “Rolly’s” disavowal, Gregory was certain she had recognized the name Sir Andrew Rose. Andrew was Gregory’s cousin and lifelong friend, and he moved in the best circles of society. He might know the woman’s name. Moreover, he was someone Gregory could talk to freely and whose curiosity would be minimal. It was a pleasant benefit of dealing with a man who was largely self-absorbed.

Unfortunately, he was not a man Gregory felt comfortable pinning all his hopes on.

Sir Andrew’s valet showed Gregory into his bedroom. His cousin, still clad in his dressing gown, was contemplating the clothes his valet had laid out on the bed before him.

“Gregory!” Andrew had a winning smile. “Didn’t know you were in Edinburgh.”

“I haven’t been here long. Had to make duty calls on my mother’s sisters first.”

“I’m sure we can find more interesting places to visit.”

“No doubt.” And no doubt they would be the sort of places Andrew should avoid. Gregory had deliberately not invited his cousin to accompany him to Faraday’s last night. The less Andrew saw of gambling dens, the better. “I am surprised to find you here. I thought you might go to Baillannan for Christmas.”

“Thought I’d let the newlyweds have their first Christmas alone.” Andrew shrugged. There was little love lost between Andrew and his new brother-in-law. In fact, both Andrew’s sister Isobel and her husband Jack had suggested that Andrew leave their house last summer.

“I didn’t feel much like Christmas at home, either,” Gregory admitted. “I thought Edinburgh would be a nice change from Kinclannoch.”

“Purgatory would be a nice change from Kinclannoch.”

“Isobel tells me you’ve joined the social whirl here.”

Andrew snorted. “If you could call it that. Aunt Adelaide has decided it’s her duty to marry me off to a wealthy girl now that I’ve managed to lose the estate. She insists on dragging me to every bloody party she can find.”

“You’re thinking of marriage?” Gregory looked at him in surprise.

“I suppose I must at some point. It would be more pleasant to have a wealthy wife than a poor one. But the present hunt is all Aunt Adelaide’s idea.” He gave Gregory a pained look. “I used to think my aunt was a sweet, harmless female, but the woman is relentless.”

“It’s probably wise to assume that no female is harmless. I need your help, Andrew.”

“You do?” His cousin’s eyebrows lifted. “Whatever for?”

“I’m looking for a girl.”

“Will any girl do, or are you searching for a particular one?”

“A very particular one. I don’t know her name. But I know she is a lady, and I think she lives relatively close to St. David’s church.”