His Wicked Lady by Ruth Ann Nordin Page B

up and smiled, ready to greet the
gentlemen when, to his horror, the blonde lady from Lord Roderick’s
ball came into the room, and she brought her son with her.
    “I hope I didn’t come at a bad time,” she
told him.
    How did she find out where he lived? What did
she want? He tried to ask her all of this, but he could only manage
to squeak in protest. She really shouldn’t be here. It was very
improper. If the wrong person saw her come into his townhouse, who
knew what would happen to his reputation?
    “This is my son, Leonard,” she said, not
seeming the least bit disturbed by her unexpected visit. Well, of
course she wouldn’t be. She had the advantage. She was the one who
surprised him, not the other way around. “Do you like children, Mr.
Jasper?”
    When he didn’t answer, the boy turned his
wide blue eyes in his direction. She squeezed his hand and offered
him a nod. Turning his attention back to Malcolm, the lad said,
“How do you do?”
    Malcolm glanced from him to her and back
again. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way this could
really be happening. “What are you doing here?” he finally
managed.
    “My mother brought me,” the lad said as if
the answer was obvious.
    Blinking, Malcolm redirected his gaze to the
lady. “I don’t understand. Are you following me?”
    She chuckled. “No, but I have good reason to
be here. I want you to meet my son.”
    “Didn’t I already meet him the other
day?”
    “You saw him, but no, you didn’t talk to him.
Leonard, why don’t you tell him what you like?”
    Leonard looked over at him. “I like
tarts.”
    “Do you like tarts?” she asked Malcolm.
    “Yes.” Then Malcolm shook his head. “What’s
the point of this?”
    Instead of answering his question, she asked,
“Do you have any children in your life, Mr. Jasper?”
    Surprised by her question, he said, “None
that are mine, but I have a nephew. He’s not as old as your son.
Mathias is only a month old. Well, about two by now.”
    “You like your nephew?” she asked.
    “Of course, I do. I like all children.”
    At that, she smiled. “That’s good to hear.
Leonard, why don’t you tell Mr. Jasper what else you like?”
    “I like clowns,” Leonard said.
    “Specifically at the circus,” she added.
    “Um…yes,” Malcolm slowly said, turning to the
lad. “The circus is entertaining. I enjoy it, too. Even when you’re
no longer a lad, you’ll probably enjoy it, though not as much.
There’s a certain magic to it when you’re young. When you get
older, you figure out how they do their tricks,” he explained.
    “I don’t know,” the lady argued. “I still
find magic in the performance.”
    “That probably depends on where you direct
your attention,” he said. “I like knowing how things work.”
    “I prefer the mystery. Some things are better
when you don’t question them.”
    He shrugged. He supposed for some people that
worked, but he still liked solving the mystery. They would have to
agree to disagree on this point, just as they did on so many other
points.
    “I like orses,” Leonard spoke up, breaking
the silence that had fallen between them.
    “Orses?” Malcolm asked.
    “He means horses,” she said.
    “Oh,” Malcolm replied. “Yes, I like them,
too, but aren’t you too young to be riding them?”
    “Not if he’s with me,” she told Malcolm. “I
might let him sit by himself when he turns five.”
    “I suppose that would do,” Malcolm said. “My
family couldn’t afford one until I was seven. By then, I was
responsible enough to ride it.” Noting the worried frown on the
boy’s face, he added, “However, you seem like the kind of lad who
can handle the responsibility of riding a horse.”
    The boy beamed, and Malcolm felt better.
There was no need in dashing the poor boy’s dreams. Malcolm
remembered how excited he was to ride a horse when he was
young.
    “I’ll be guiding the horse to start,” the
boy’s mother said. “But he’s a quick