LITMIR.BIZ

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valet and took the driving gloves he offered. ‘Thank you, Fredericks. I can handle everything from here.’ He took the stairs with a rapid step, something shopping had never engendered in him before. But today was different. He was going to pick out a sincerity piece for Eleanor Braithmore and by doing so, firmly put errant thoughts of Lilya out of his mind. Goodness knew there were a million of them.

      When he wasn’t thinking of dancing with her, he was thinking of finding her in Christoph Agyros’s arms, willowy and elegant, every man’s most kissable fantasy with her head tilted up just so, her lips slightly parted. That particular sight had filled him with unmitigated fury. She had not looked fully committed to the idea of that kiss when he’d come upon them. Even if she had, he would have felt compelled to stop it. He was the chaperon, after all. He had his duties.

      At least that’s what he told himself.

      In his more honest moments, he had his doubts.

      Truth was, he’d wanted to be the man doing the kissing. The idea shocked him. He was not prepared for the magnitude of the revelation. He wanted to kiss Lilya. Wanted to do more than kiss her. Since the night he’d seen her delectable back, lust had been steadily growing, riding him hard in ways he was not used to. His reaction to Lilya was indeed stunning and unexpected, but it would resolve itself in time. She was merely a novelty to him. Eventually, the edge she raised in him would dull and fade.

      Outside Pendennys House, his phaeton was waiting and Beldon swung confidently up on to the high seat in optimistic spirits. The best way to deal with temptations was to remove them altogether, hence the shopping trip. Thank goodness the sun was out.

      He much preferred shopping in good weather if he had to shop at all. Squelching around in the mud and dashing between shop fronts dampened an experience he already found unenjoyable. Beldon pulled up in front of the Burlington Arcade with its uniformed guards and tossed the reins to his tiger. The Pendennys family jewellers, Messrs Bentham and Brown, were not far.

      A doorman held open the door to the elite jewellers’. Ah, it was quiet in here, and private, a marked contrast from the busy street. Mr Brown came forwards to greet him personally when he stepped inside the shop.

      Beldon had just taken a seat on a cushioned bench in front of the gem cases and explained his purpose when the door opened again. It was a small shop and Beldon could not help but turn to see the newcomer.

      He stifled a groan of disbelief. Of all the jewellery shops in London, she had to walk into this one. In hindsight the odds were pretty good. It was the one Val and Philippa frequented. But who would have guessed she’d need a jeweller the same day he did? Fate had definitely made him her latest whipping boy. For all his efforts to drive Lilya from his mind, she seemed determined to keep showing up.

      Lilya stepped forwards with a friendly smile, clearly feeling none of his angst over the encounter. ‘Oh, hello, Beldon, fancy meeting you here.’

      Chapter Five

      When had she started calling him by his first name? Never mind that it sounded right. Beldon rose to his feet, playing the gentleman. ‘Miss Stefanov, how good to see you. Are you enjoying the fine weather?’ Good Lord, could he sound any more ridiculous? His greeting seemed extraordinarily stiff compared to her more effusive, warmer one.

      She smiled again, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, a reminder that she was not the usual débutante; she was far more worldly, able to understand the underlying nuances of conversation. He had not called her Lilya and she took it as a subtle rebuke. ‘The weather is lovely. We’ve had so little sun this year, it seems a special treat.’

      The weather was duly dispatched and they stood facing one another for an awkward moment until Mr Brown broke in. ‘I’ll get the viscount’s things. My lord, I’ve laid out some trays if you’d like to begin looking.’

      ‘Yes, thank you, Mr Brown.’ Beldon turned back to the trays, immediately aware of his new dilemma. A gentleman did not ignore the presence of a lady, particularly when they were the only two people present. But a gentleman also did not discuss his affairs with a lady.

      Lilya materialised at his side, having crossed the small space quietly. ‘It is awkward, is it not? All this formality when we’re not exactly strangers. It seems silly to have to pretend.’

      It was on the tip of his tongue to ask precisely what they were when Mr Brown returned with a small package. ‘Here are the rings the viscount had sent in to be reset.’

      Lilya took the package. ‘And the parure? Lady St Just said there would be two packages.’

      Mr Brown excused himself again.

      ‘Val and Philippa are having the St Just jewels remounted in more modern settings,’ she explained. It was the perfect invitation to share his reason for being here. He chose to pass up the opportunity, but Lilya proved tenacious and perceptive.

      ‘Are you selecting a betrothal piece? ‘

      He felt compelled to correct her. ‘No, there are jewels in the family vault for that. I merely wanted to select a sincerity piece.’

      ‘That’s a very kind gesture. I am sure whatever you choose will be lovely.’

      That decreed a certain challenge. Would she tell him the truth if he picked something unacceptable? He had a rather perverse urge to find out. He picked up a necklace. ‘I was thinking of this.’

      The piece was pretty enough, but he knew it was wrong, too showy for his purposes. Would Lilya know? Would she say anything? A typical lady would not dare to contradict him. Lilya did not hesitate. She smiled and shook her head.

      ‘Perhaps after you’re officially engaged,’ she said gently. ‘A necklace is too sophisticated, I think, for your intentions at present.’

      Something dangerous and volatile sparked to life between them. He should leave well enough alone, but the devil in him was already awake and wanting his due. How would she handle it?

      ‘What are those intentions?’ Beldon asked in gravelly tones more appropriate for seduction than shopping. Truly he knew better than to stoke this ambiguous fire she roused in him.

      ‘You tell me. They’re your intentions.’ She studied him with sharp eyes, missing nothing of the innuendo, of the change in the atmosphere between them.

      There it was. She’d called him out. This was his chance to declare himself. What a bold piece she was and yet she pulled off that boldness without seeming unladylike. Really, it was quite admirable.

      Mr Brown returned with the second package. He handed it to Lilya and noted the necklace still dangling from Beldon’s hand. ‘Ah, you’ve made a choice, then? The necklace is very nice.’

      Beldon skewered the smaller man with an imperial stare, his voice cold. ‘Very nice, but very wrong for my cause,’ he corrected. ‘A decent gentleman would not give such a piece to his bride.’

      The man had the good grace to colour at the implication: he’d been caught toadying.

      ‘Perhaps something in pink?’ Lilya offered. It was meant to be a helpful suggestion, but Beldon saw the challenge behind it. Pink could only be for one person. But Lilya was right and Beldon saw no reason to disagree. A pink gem would be lovely and meaningful to Lady Eleanor. As long as they didn’t say Lady Eleanor’s name out loud, it wasn’t as if he was outright asking one woman to help him select jewellery for another.

      Trays were taken away and others brought out from behind the locked cabinet, far more than he’d expected. He’d not anticipated such a variety. In tacit agreement, he and Lilya sat back down on the bench.

      ‘A ring, then?’ Beldon randomly chose one of the dozens of rings on display, suddenly less interested in what had brought him here in the first place and more interested in Lilya’s response. He had jewels aplenty in the Pendennys vault. He would save those for a wedding gift, or an anniversary gift. The Pendennys emeralds were heavy pieces. Every time he thought of Lady Eleanor

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