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Chapter 37 - Surveillance

L Pov

I did not appreciate the way he looked at her. It was hopeful, protective, even at times enthralled. In short, it was exactly the same look I'd produce when I was unguarded. But I had a right to that expression. I had endured the tender feelings for far longer than this other man. This nobody, this thief.

I was not a fool. Caleb Robert Templeton wanted to be merely friends with Grace like I simply wanted to shake his hand and wish him good luck in his endeavor. Absolutely and under all circumstances false. No one else could see his danger. Grace had doubled over with laughter when I told her of his previous criminal background which had troubled me.

"Criminal charges?" she repeated with a disbelieving grin two days previous. "I demand to know what."

"Well, in 1998, he was caught loitering outside of a chemist smoking a cigarette." I informed her with a burst of pride that her perfect bubble regarding him was about to burst.

"Good Lord! Take him away! Loitering? Smoking? That's all you've got?!" She didn't seem that appalled by my revelation. "I thought you were working whilst in London, not conducting background checks on my friends!"

"I'm surprised you hadn't done that yourself." I had shot back. "How are you to possibly know if he is to be trusted?"

"Well, I rely on intuition instead of criminal records to deem a person's worth." She explained, her smile fading as she hid her eyes from me. "That is if he ever is going to talk to me again, thanks to you."

"You shouldn't fraternize with lawbreakers anyhow. Remember who you are."

"Who am I? I'm a woman who can't get any bloody peace!" She had let out a strangled scream and stalked out of the room. I couldn't understand her exasperation, but then again, there was much about Grace Deacon that I did not understand.

Oh, but they had talked again and then some. I couldn't understand why she was blind to see that his moody, ignoring behavior had only been a ploy to lure her into his net. After all, this man was a salesman by trade. He had to know many tricks to get the end goal he sought. Profit at any cost, that was his type. I could see this plainly.

Who was he, this upstart merchant, this boy of the streets, to feel that Grace was his to concern himself about? Did I need to tell him in no uncertain terms that she was supposed to belong to me? I felt foolish even thinking of the several ways a confrontation such as that would go and his reactions.

A complete disregard for my professed feelings leading to

A physical fight where he would be drastically trounced by my skill in martial arts but cause Grace to despise me for causing him bodily harm and showing off as a result.

A verbal argument in which an assault from my vastly superior reasoning would leave him wordless and unable to reply but would also come under the headline of "showing off" not furthering my suit at all with Grace.

or

2. Recognizing my perceived claim to her affections but still pushing ahead anyway resulting in

A. A physical fight previously described.

B. A verbal fight previously forecasted.

Nothing was producing a positive outcome. I did not have it in me to be kind and respectful of my rival, to allow him to take her out and simply hold on to the hope that she would realize on her own what a drastic mistake she was making. I didn't have that much patience.