LITMIR.BIZ

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in London considered them lovers.

      A political situation that would be coped with, unlike the advent of a different branch of the royal house. “I don’t pretend to understand politics.” Dominic waved his handkerchief to illustrate his point. A fine lace-edged piece of linen, it would probably be ruined if he put it to any practical use. “It is all far beyond me.”

      “I’m sure you would cope.” Malton sounded so smug that Dominic spared him a glance. No, he wasn’t mistaken. Clearly, Malton considered Dominic as the intellectual half-wit he preferred people to think him. A man more interested in fashion and gossip than anything serious. The pose was beginning to pall, but it had taken a year and a half for it to do so. It might prove useful for a little while longer. When people underestimated him, they were more likely to talk freely in his presence. Consequently he heard much more of the gossip before others did.

      “I find other matters more interesting,” he said, lengthening his vowels to a fashionable drawl. “Surely gossip about the Princess of Wales and her lover is old news. May we discuss Elizabeth Chudleigh’s latest exploit?”

      They did, Malton discussing the subject easily enough, until they reached Bond Street. At this time of day, the fashionable and the wealthy thronged the place, from the boxing saloon at the end to the florist’s at the other. While Dominic would have preferred the fencing-master’s studio, Malton took him straight past it to the drapers’ shop two doors down.

      The curved bay window with its bull’s-eye glass panes revealed swaths of fabric, a few toys strewn across it. His gaze met fans, handkerchiefs, and a particularly pretty necessaire, the separate elements of pen, paper, scissors, spread for the admiration of the customer. Dominic spared it a glance on his way inside.

      Three ladies sat at the broad counter to the left of the door. Another counter stood completely opposite, and at the end, bales of fabric were stacked.

      Dominic groped for the ribbon tied at his waist and lifted the quizzing glass he kept at the end of it. Surely he was seeing things. “You said sisters,” he murmured. “You did not say twins.”

      Or beauties, for that matter.

      “I omitted that part, didn’t I?”

      If he didn’t know better, Dominic would have detected laughter in Malton’s voice. So far his acquaintance with the man hadn’t revealed a sense of humor. Despite Malton’s enjoyment of his surprise, Dominic considered himself a winner here.

      The two young ladies seated in chairs before the counter were slender of figure. However, their breasts swelled invitingly above their bodices, and they possessed clear-complexions. Both were possessed of heavenly blue eyes. They had lively features, although one bore an air of serenity, and her gown was a little more subdued than her sister’s.

      The other, the one with the slight smile curling her lips, intrigued him. Something about this one drew him. She wore pink, which should not have suited her with that red-gold hair, but it did, enhancing her slender loveliness. Dominic would not call either lady a beauty, not in the accepted society sense, but they were lovely enough to create a sensation if they wished to. Their chins were slightly too pointed, their noses too large. He liked them; they added character.

      While Malton performed the introductions, she watched him. He only looked away when his bow required it, and then glanced up and found her challenging gaze fixed on his. He flicked her a hard stare, before he recalled himself and allowed his lids to droop over his eyes in his usual society manner.

      Her eyes widened. “I did not meet you in town last year, Lord St. Just. I would have thought you very hard to miss.”

      She scanned his red coat, matching waistcoat, and spotless white breeches. Gold buckles adorned his shoes, with the tiniest of diamonds and rubies, and his sword hilt was encrusted with jewels and engraving. The fact that good Spanish steel was sheathed beneath may have passed her scrutiny.

      Showing no sign of insult, Dominic took her careful observation as a compliment. He flourished his hat, which he’d taken off when performing his bow. “You are too kind, Lady Claudia.”

      She made a sound in the back of her throat that could have been the start of a derisive snort. Except for that tiny sound, Dominic would never have known she was laughing at him from her gracious smile and nod. She’d was probably been taught from the cradle to hide her true emotions. “My lord, it would be difficult to miss such magnificence.”

      “The color is rather engrained in me, I fear.” He straightened up. He, too, could don a public mask. After all, what was his whole appearance but a mask? “I was until recently taking the King’s shilling.”

      Gratification swept through him in a warm tide when her eyes widened. He’d won an open, startled reaction from her, enough to make him want to see more. He wanted to get to know her better.

      She was the first woman to affect him in this way since he returned to England.

      “You were a soldier?”

      “If your brother had introduced us formally, he’d have mentioned that I am Major Viscount St. Just.” Ignoring Malton’s muttered apology, he concentrated on her. “I am home now because my two cousins sadly perished last year, leaving me the sole hope of my house.”

      “The only male heir,” she murmured. “Now you come to mention it, I do recall something about that. I beg your pardon, I should have paid more attention, and I am indeed sorry for your loss.”

      He hadn’t meant to make her feel guilty. “I barely knew my cousins, I regret to say. I had a lot to arrange when I came home, so I decided not to come to town last season. My parents remain in the country.”

      Leaving him to hunt down a bride, something he resented. He hadn’t meant to marry for years yet, and he was doing his best to deter them, but it was proving difficult. Society understood the value of the estate he stood to inherit and the necessity of marrying and begetting.

      Once he’d done that, he could consider returning to the life he loved, in the army.

      For the present, he had a delicious distraction. He could only consider her as such. Someone of her temperament would probably not agree to remain quietly in the country while he went back to war. He needed someone sweet, docile, and happy to rusticate. Not this handful of trouble. Even now her eyes danced with mischief.

      Now she’d softened a little toward him, he saw that more clearly. “Were you in one of those pretty regiments, the ones that dance attendance on court and curry favor with foreign dignitaries?” she asked. “You would be a credit to them.”

      He almost laughed, but contrived to keep a straight face. “No.” He would give her no guidance. Let her discover for herself. “Discussing the past can be tedious, can it not?” He gestured to the pretty display on the counter. “Have you made your decisions, or may I assist you in any way? My mother tells me I have an excellent eye for color.”

      The laughter disappeared, and her mouth flattened. Disappointment? Perhaps so. Perhaps he should not think of getting to know her at all. “Except for the green. I dislike it. It’s so predictable to put a red-haired woman in green, don’t you think?”

      He picked up the fabric, a delicate silk in a shade of green he privately labelled puke-colored. “It slips through the fingers nicely.”

      As her hair would, did she ever let him near it. The notion came to his mind unbidden, as did the notion of stroking her skin to discover if it was as satiny as it looked.

      A fine sheen smoothed over it when the sun came out from the clouds and streamed through the broad shop windows. It turned her hair into a ball of fire, and then the light went, disappeared behind its cover.

      The shock numbed him. He dropped the fabric and reached out, touched her arm between her elbow-ruffles and her wrist.

      She gasped and drew her arm back. Startled, wide eyes met his, but he said nothing. Just stared. That contact had changed everything for him, although if anyone had asked him what “everything” meant,

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