of gnats have just pelted you in the face.”
“I was fluttering my eyelashes.”
“No. You were trying to dislodge a field of sand. All that rapid blinking and squinting. The only man you’ll attract with that behavior is one with an interest in ophthalmology who’ll offer you a salve.”
Cat fixed her mentor with a wicked grin. “Well then, if you’re so expert at it, why don’t you demonstrate?”
In reply, Montrose assumed a mask of weary. “Ungrateful baggage. It is only through a growing desire to see the population of London saved from your flirtatious exhibitions that I proceed with these lessons at all. However remote our connection, I do have family pride to consider, and the thought of you making those grimaces all over the city in an attempt to lure some poor fool to the altar pricks my conceit. To have it come out that we are related, however tangentially, is beyond enduring.”
“I understand, Thomas,” Cat said soberly, her eyes shining. “You wish to foster the notion that our entire extended family is irresistible.”
“Exactly. Now lower your eyes slightly. No. Don’t squint. That’s right. Now look at me without moving your lids. Better. Now, maintain eye contact a second longer than is seemly… No.” He sighed with disgust. “You don’t fix the poor swain with a basilisk stare. You dart a glance at him. Make him aware that your interest is piqued but not set. All right, we’ll continue later. We have arrived.”
Cat straightened, looking out of the coach’s small window. They were near the Steyne in a fashionable side street close to Prinny’s ongoing masterpiece, the Marine Pavilion.
“I do not feel right about this, Thomas.”
“Nonsense. I was, in fact, sincere in my estimation of your wardrobe, Cat. It simply is too ingenuous. Don’t worry, I have no intention of decking you out in wet muslin and red satin.”
“Of course not. I trust your taste in these matters implicitly.”
“How gratifying to know that I have a future as a lady’s maid should the crops fail,” he teased, but her answering smile was still a distracted one.
“I cannot help but feel that I presume too much in having you incur the cost of my clothing. It doesn’t seem… seemly,” she said, her gaze on his rough, outdated garb.
Apparently, Thomas couldn’t afford to purchase himself a simple wardrobe and yet here he was, planning to spend an immense amount on her clothing. She simply couldn’t allow his fields to lay fallow just so she could have an ermine-trimmed cloak or a satin petticoat. Loath to injure his pride, Cat cast about for some excuse he would accept. “Aunt Hecuba would simply convulse if she knew.”
“Aunt Hecuba, I’ll warrant, has a shrewd idea of how matters stand. She has chosen ignorance. I take that as a sign of concurrence. As to the money, I firmly intend to recoup my losses upon your marriage to whatever the confounded fellow’s name is or upon the return of your parent. Consider it by way of a loan.”
“I suppose.” Silently, she vowed she’d repay him with interest once she was a wealthy matron. Thomas would have his fields planted
and
a new coat. She had to start seeing his expenditures as an investment in not only her family’s future but his own as well. As Thomas handed her from the carriage she said, “And, Thomas?”
“Yes?”
“I am not at all averse to red satin.”
“Witch,” he replied equably.
Cat surveyed herself doubtfully in front of the long mirror. The gown she modeled was a pale green silk worked with deep claret embroidery. It nipped in tight beneath her breasts, falling in sheer folds to her ankles. Delicate puffed sleeves capped her shoulders and the bodice had a high, prim neckline outlined with a simple band of claret beads. On the whole it was tasteful, elegant, nearly severe in the simplicity of its line. From the front. It was only when she turned to survey the back that she caught her breath. Because there was no
“I was fluttering my eyelashes.”
“No. You were trying to dislodge a field of sand. All that rapid blinking and squinting. The only man you’ll attract with that behavior is one with an interest in ophthalmology who’ll offer you a salve.”
Cat fixed her mentor with a wicked grin. “Well then, if you’re so expert at it, why don’t you demonstrate?”
In reply, Montrose assumed a mask of weary. “Ungrateful baggage. It is only through a growing desire to see the population of London saved from your flirtatious exhibitions that I proceed with these lessons at all. However remote our connection, I do have family pride to consider, and the thought of you making those grimaces all over the city in an attempt to lure some poor fool to the altar pricks my conceit. To have it come out that we are related, however tangentially, is beyond enduring.”
“I understand, Thomas,” Cat said soberly, her eyes shining. “You wish to foster the notion that our entire extended family is irresistible.”
“Exactly. Now lower your eyes slightly. No. Don’t squint. That’s right. Now look at me without moving your lids. Better. Now, maintain eye contact a second longer than is seemly… No.” He sighed with disgust. “You don’t fix the poor swain with a basilisk stare. You dart a glance at him. Make him aware that your interest is piqued but not set. All right, we’ll continue later. We have arrived.”
Cat straightened, looking out of the coach’s small window. They were near the Steyne in a fashionable side street close to Prinny’s ongoing masterpiece, the Marine Pavilion.
“I do not feel right about this, Thomas.”
“Nonsense. I was, in fact, sincere in my estimation of your wardrobe, Cat. It simply is too ingenuous. Don’t worry, I have no intention of decking you out in wet muslin and red satin.”
“Of course not. I trust your taste in these matters implicitly.”
“How gratifying to know that I have a future as a lady’s maid should the crops fail,” he teased, but her answering smile was still a distracted one.
“I cannot help but feel that I presume too much in having you incur the cost of my clothing. It doesn’t seem… seemly,” she said, her gaze on his rough, outdated garb.
Apparently, Thomas couldn’t afford to purchase himself a simple wardrobe and yet here he was, planning to spend an immense amount on her clothing. She simply couldn’t allow his fields to lay fallow just so she could have an ermine-trimmed cloak or a satin petticoat. Loath to injure his pride, Cat cast about for some excuse he would accept. “Aunt Hecuba would simply convulse if she knew.”
“Aunt Hecuba, I’ll warrant, has a shrewd idea of how matters stand. She has chosen ignorance. I take that as a sign of concurrence. As to the money, I firmly intend to recoup my losses upon your marriage to whatever the confounded fellow’s name is or upon the return of your parent. Consider it by way of a loan.”
“I suppose.” Silently, she vowed she’d repay him with interest once she was a wealthy matron. Thomas would have his fields planted
and
a new coat. She had to start seeing his expenditures as an investment in not only her family’s future but his own as well. As Thomas handed her from the carriage she said, “And, Thomas?”
“Yes?”
“I am not at all averse to red satin.”
“Witch,” he replied equably.
Cat surveyed herself doubtfully in front of the long mirror. The gown she modeled was a pale green silk worked with deep claret embroidery. It nipped in tight beneath her breasts, falling in sheer folds to her ankles. Delicate puffed sleeves capped her shoulders and the bodice had a high, prim neckline outlined with a simple band of claret beads. On the whole it was tasteful, elegant, nearly severe in the simplicity of its line. From the front. It was only when she turned to survey the back that she caught her breath. Because there was no
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