are."
"Elise, if you go on like this when Mr. Hamilton arrives, I vow I shall have need of my salts."
"Fiddle, Mama. Why should you care what Mrs. Coates's barrister thinks of us?"
"Mr. Hamilton is connected to the dukes of Hamilton, dearest," the other woman reminded her. "And if you are uncivil, your papa will blame me for it, when in truth the fault is his. If he would not-—"
"By now, I doubt Papa will blame anyone for anything," the girl retorted. "It would surprise me if he were able to come down."
"You are out of reason cross tonight," her mother chided.
"With reason, Mama," Elise Rand countered. "I am dressed like the veriest Cyprian to meet a man in whom I have not the least interest. Where isPapa, by the by?"
"Simpson is making him presentable." "I don't envy him the task."
"How can you say such a thing?" the woman protested.
"Because when last seen, my father was well into the wind and still had a bottle in his hand," came the exasperated reply.
"Elise!"
"Well, 'tis the truth. And one of us is going to have to tell him he drinks too much ere he is in his grave."
There was a nervous titter, followed by, "Well, in any event, I expect we'd best not wait for Bat, lest Mr. Hamilton should arrive and think us inhospitable."
As Patrick looked up, the two women reached the top of the stairs. When the younger one started down, he could only stare again, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. His earlier brief glimpse of her, haunting as it was, had not nearly done her justice.
As she took each step, the tips of her blue satin slippers could be seen beneath the skirt of her blue gown. His gaze moved upward slowly, noting her slender figure, her graceful carriage, her nearly perfect lace. And again, her brilliant blue eyes were utterly arresting. When she inclined her head slightly, her red-gold hair shone as though it reflected the light from the hundred candles above. No, he'd not been mistaken at all—the girl was truly a Diamond of the First Water, an Incomparable absolutely worthy of the epithet.
She saw him and was for a moment nonplussed. Her face flushed becomingly, then she murmured wryly, "Oh, dear," followed by, "my wretched tongue—you heard everything, didn't you?"
He ought to play the gentleman and deny it, but he nodded. "Yes." Then, flashing his most devastating smile, he declared, "But I assure you I am perfectly willing to be toadeaten."
Instead of covering her face demurely with her fan, she looked him up and down nearly as boldly as he had her. "Well, at least you do not lie overmuch," she said finally.
' 'Alas, but I am a barrister and therefore prize the truth," he countered.
She inclined her head slightly, then a faint smile formed at the corner of her mouth. "Ah, yes, but then we must remember Shakespeare's opinion on the worth of lawyers, I think."
"I cannot say he held them in much esteem," he admitted cheerfully. "I should hope that you do not alreatly wish me dead on such short acquaintance."
"No, of course not. Actually, I don't wish you anything."
"Except at Jericho?"
Her smile widened, warming those eyes. "As you are alreatly here, I doubt it would do any good to wish you there, would it?"
"I shall try to take that for encouragement,'' he murmured.
"Please don't—I assure you it was not meant to be." "Are you always so frank, Miss Rand?" "Not always, sir—only when the occasion demands it."
She came the rest of the way down, while her mother hovered somewhat anxiously behind her. "Really, Mr. Hamilton, but I cannot think what you must—"
"Mama, there is no need for dissembling now—Mr. Hamilton has alreatly overheard my worst." Stepping off the last step, Elise met his gaze steadily. "But I suppose I ought to beg your pardon for at least some of it."
"About your opinion of my client—or about your refusal to throw yourself at my head?" he asked lightly.
"Should I have called her a purveyor of flesh instead? Or perhaps a manager of impure wares?"
"Elise, if you go on like this when Mr. Hamilton arrives, I vow I shall have need of my salts."
"Fiddle, Mama. Why should you care what Mrs. Coates's barrister thinks of us?"
"Mr. Hamilton is connected to the dukes of Hamilton, dearest," the other woman reminded her. "And if you are uncivil, your papa will blame me for it, when in truth the fault is his. If he would not-—"
"By now, I doubt Papa will blame anyone for anything," the girl retorted. "It would surprise me if he were able to come down."
"You are out of reason cross tonight," her mother chided.
"With reason, Mama," Elise Rand countered. "I am dressed like the veriest Cyprian to meet a man in whom I have not the least interest. Where isPapa, by the by?"
"Simpson is making him presentable." "I don't envy him the task."
"How can you say such a thing?" the woman protested.
"Because when last seen, my father was well into the wind and still had a bottle in his hand," came the exasperated reply.
"Elise!"
"Well, 'tis the truth. And one of us is going to have to tell him he drinks too much ere he is in his grave."
There was a nervous titter, followed by, "Well, in any event, I expect we'd best not wait for Bat, lest Mr. Hamilton should arrive and think us inhospitable."
As Patrick looked up, the two women reached the top of the stairs. When the younger one started down, he could only stare again, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. His earlier brief glimpse of her, haunting as it was, had not nearly done her justice.
As she took each step, the tips of her blue satin slippers could be seen beneath the skirt of her blue gown. His gaze moved upward slowly, noting her slender figure, her graceful carriage, her nearly perfect lace. And again, her brilliant blue eyes were utterly arresting. When she inclined her head slightly, her red-gold hair shone as though it reflected the light from the hundred candles above. No, he'd not been mistaken at all—the girl was truly a Diamond of the First Water, an Incomparable absolutely worthy of the epithet.
She saw him and was for a moment nonplussed. Her face flushed becomingly, then she murmured wryly, "Oh, dear," followed by, "my wretched tongue—you heard everything, didn't you?"
He ought to play the gentleman and deny it, but he nodded. "Yes." Then, flashing his most devastating smile, he declared, "But I assure you I am perfectly willing to be toadeaten."
Instead of covering her face demurely with her fan, she looked him up and down nearly as boldly as he had her. "Well, at least you do not lie overmuch," she said finally.
' 'Alas, but I am a barrister and therefore prize the truth," he countered.
She inclined her head slightly, then a faint smile formed at the corner of her mouth. "Ah, yes, but then we must remember Shakespeare's opinion on the worth of lawyers, I think."
"I cannot say he held them in much esteem," he admitted cheerfully. "I should hope that you do not alreatly wish me dead on such short acquaintance."
"No, of course not. Actually, I don't wish you anything."
"Except at Jericho?"
Her smile widened, warming those eyes. "As you are alreatly here, I doubt it would do any good to wish you there, would it?"
"I shall try to take that for encouragement,'' he murmured.
"Please don't—I assure you it was not meant to be." "Are you always so frank, Miss Rand?" "Not always, sir—only when the occasion demands it."
She came the rest of the way down, while her mother hovered somewhat anxiously behind her. "Really, Mr. Hamilton, but I cannot think what you must—"
"Mama, there is no need for dissembling now—Mr. Hamilton has alreatly overheard my worst." Stepping off the last step, Elise met his gaze steadily. "But I suppose I ought to beg your pardon for at least some of it."
"About your opinion of my client—or about your refusal to throw yourself at my head?" he asked lightly.
"Should I have called her a purveyor of flesh instead? Or perhaps a manager of impure wares?"
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