Dangerous Gifts by Mary Jo Putney Page B

calculation, and decided that he was only about twenty-five now. War had matured him early. “You may deny being a hero, but at the least, you served your country well,” she said quietly. “Don’t apologize for that.”
    He pulled his horses to a halt, then turned to her, the reins tight in his hands. “We both seem to have the ability to hear more than what the other person is saying.”
    So the deeper levels of this conversation were not in her imagination. She asked, “Is that bad?”
    “No.” He snapped the reins and set the horses into motion again. “Not bad at all.”
    For the rest of the drive, they talked about anything and everything. Leah had never found anyone, male or female, with whom she could converse so easily. And Duncan was obviously enjoying himself as much as she was. Could falling in love be this simple? She prayed that it was so.
    As Duncan drove back to Wheaton House, he said with a touch of diffidence, “Tomorrow is the last night that Vauxhall will be open before closing for the winter. My uncle, with whom I’m staying, has suggested inviting you and your godmother to join us. Apparently she and my uncle are old friends. Might you be able to come?”
    “Let me ask Lady Wheaton when we reach home. I believe we’re free tomorrow night,” she said, ruthlessly jettisoning invitations to three loud, crowded rout parties.
    With a private smile, she guessed that her aunt would be almost as interested in the excursion as Leah.

Chapter Five
    After spattering rain all day, the skies began to clear as dusk approached. Leah gave thanks—she did not want the evening at Vauxhall canceled. She was ready and bouncing with eagerness an hour before Lord Townley and Duncan were due to arrive.
    Monique, who styled Leah’s hair, shook her head sadly. “You must not wear your heart on your sleeve, m’zelle. Men like Captain Townley enjoy the hunt. Where is the challenge in a woman who falls into the hand like a ripe plum?”
    Shadow, who was sitting on the vanity table with her paws tucked primly under her, gave a soft, scornful yowl. Feeling supported, Leah said, “Captain Townley is not like that. He would despise such games.” She was not sure how she knew that, but she was quite positive that she was right.
    After Monique left, still shaking her head, Leah stroked Shadow’s luxuriant black fur. Now that she thought about it, she realized that the cat’s eyes were the same transparent gold as Duncan’s. An interesting coincidence.
    She spent the next hour playing her harp, and wondering if Duncan would like the traditional instrument as much as he had enjoyed her piano playing. Wryly she recognized that every thought in her head involved Duncan one way or another.
    When a maid summoned her, she raced down the stairs like a hoyden. Outside the drawing room, she made herself pause to take a deep breath. Then she went in.
    Duncan greeted her warmly and made the introductions. Lord Townley was a lean, handsome gentleman with silver-touched hair and an unfashionably brown complexion. He bowed over her hand. “I had thought my nephew exaggerated your beauty, but I see instead that he understated the case.”
    Leah liked the twinkle in the viscount’s eye, and the obvious affection between him and his nephew. One of the bits of female advice that Lady Wheaton had offered was that a man who could get along with his relations was a good prospect for getting along with a wife. Leah had learned more such useful things in a few weeks with her godmother than in twenty-one years with her real mother.
    Lady Wheaton swept grandly into the parlor, looking particularly fine in a navy blue costume trimmed in military-style gold braid. Lord Townley swung around, and there was a suspended moment while they looked at each other. Both of them were very still until the viscount said softly, “You haven’t changed at all, Andrea.”
    To Leah’s amazement, her worldly godmother blushed. “Nor have you, Will.