said frigidly. “I am not susceptible to the lures of gentlemen who wish only to reach my sister’s favor.”
Nick straightened. “The devil with your sister’s favor. She has enough moths to her flame. I’m a bit particular that way.”
Her eyes widened. She took a step away, her hand fluttering up. He noticed, with pleasure, that she put it behind her back, pressing it against her waist as though to erase with another pressure the touch of his lips. “Absurd.”
“Why?” He glanced at the others and saw David. Mochrie’s eye flickered in a wink as he nodded encouragement. “You’re not an antidote, you know.”
“You never even looked at me the other day.”
He smiled at her unconscious admission that she had been disturbed by this neglect. “I did. You wore a dark-green habit.”
“No, I wore a black cloak.”
“Yes. Over a dark-green habit. I recall perfectly, Miss Ferris. You cannot convince me otherwise. After ten years of army life, no camouflage can deceive me.”
‘That is neither here nor there. You cannot convince me that you took any notice of me whatsoever. Now to come here and play this game ...”
“I assure you I am in deadly earnest.”
The others came forward now to take their leave of Miss Ferris. She was plainly distracted by his standing there, yet she managed to smile and speak naturally to each of Blanche’s suitors. He was not attracted to Rietta, he did not believe that he could ever love her, yet he could respect her self-control and her natural graciousness.
David, of course, he knew well. Niall Joyce was a stranger to him, though Nick thought that he’d once known his older brother. Mr. Greeves, though he smelled of the shop, had an air of respectability that charmed. Nick thought it a shame so good a gentleman should make a fool of himself over a so much younger woman.
“Sir Nicholas,” Blanche hissed from beside him. “I’m sorry I didn’t speak more with you. Stay behind the others, do!”
“Isn’t our allotted time up?” Nick asked.
“For the others, yes. But you needn’t run away.”
“Your sister ...”
“Oh, she’s so fussy, it makes me cross. There’s no sacred law that a morning visit can only last half an hour, is there?”
“Miss Ferris thinks so.”
Blanche’s alabaster brow wrinkled in a charming frown. “I know!” she said, brightening. “We’ll go shopping soon down on Quay Street. Monsieur Andalouse’s millinery shop. There’s the dearest bonnet in the window. Meet me there. Anyone can give you the address.”
“Will your sister accompany you?”
“Yes. But you needn’t let that stop you. She hates shopping for anything interesting. She’ll leave me to it and go to the bookshop—a dreary, drafty place. And the books are all dusty.”
“Clarendon’s?”
“Yes. You know it? Are you bookish, too?” From her expression, it was obvious that Blanche thought “bookish” was not at all what she expected from so dashing a figure.
“Only slightly,” Nick said reassuringly.
“I suppose it’s not so bad in a man,” Blanche replied generously. “It’s different for a girl. Rietta’s only happy when she’s reading some dusty book. They make me sneeze.”
* * * *
As agreed, Nick met David in a public house around the corner from the Ferris home. David already had a pint of black beer before him, the lacy foam clinging halfway down. He waved Nick over and before Nick reached him, the second half of the pint was gone. “Landlord, two more,” he called.
Nick sat down across from David at the dark wood table, covered with an interlocking pattern of rings from countless glasses of stout.
“Drink up,” David said. “Get the taste of that cat-lap tea out of your mouth.”
Though it was a little early for Nick, he drank. “I’ve traveled a long way through the world and never had better beer than from home.”
‘Teach you not to leave it, then.” He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, dropping
Nick straightened. “The devil with your sister’s favor. She has enough moths to her flame. I’m a bit particular that way.”
Her eyes widened. She took a step away, her hand fluttering up. He noticed, with pleasure, that she put it behind her back, pressing it against her waist as though to erase with another pressure the touch of his lips. “Absurd.”
“Why?” He glanced at the others and saw David. Mochrie’s eye flickered in a wink as he nodded encouragement. “You’re not an antidote, you know.”
“You never even looked at me the other day.”
He smiled at her unconscious admission that she had been disturbed by this neglect. “I did. You wore a dark-green habit.”
“No, I wore a black cloak.”
“Yes. Over a dark-green habit. I recall perfectly, Miss Ferris. You cannot convince me otherwise. After ten years of army life, no camouflage can deceive me.”
‘That is neither here nor there. You cannot convince me that you took any notice of me whatsoever. Now to come here and play this game ...”
“I assure you I am in deadly earnest.”
The others came forward now to take their leave of Miss Ferris. She was plainly distracted by his standing there, yet she managed to smile and speak naturally to each of Blanche’s suitors. He was not attracted to Rietta, he did not believe that he could ever love her, yet he could respect her self-control and her natural graciousness.
David, of course, he knew well. Niall Joyce was a stranger to him, though Nick thought that he’d once known his older brother. Mr. Greeves, though he smelled of the shop, had an air of respectability that charmed. Nick thought it a shame so good a gentleman should make a fool of himself over a so much younger woman.
“Sir Nicholas,” Blanche hissed from beside him. “I’m sorry I didn’t speak more with you. Stay behind the others, do!”
“Isn’t our allotted time up?” Nick asked.
“For the others, yes. But you needn’t run away.”
“Your sister ...”
“Oh, she’s so fussy, it makes me cross. There’s no sacred law that a morning visit can only last half an hour, is there?”
“Miss Ferris thinks so.”
Blanche’s alabaster brow wrinkled in a charming frown. “I know!” she said, brightening. “We’ll go shopping soon down on Quay Street. Monsieur Andalouse’s millinery shop. There’s the dearest bonnet in the window. Meet me there. Anyone can give you the address.”
“Will your sister accompany you?”
“Yes. But you needn’t let that stop you. She hates shopping for anything interesting. She’ll leave me to it and go to the bookshop—a dreary, drafty place. And the books are all dusty.”
“Clarendon’s?”
“Yes. You know it? Are you bookish, too?” From her expression, it was obvious that Blanche thought “bookish” was not at all what she expected from so dashing a figure.
“Only slightly,” Nick said reassuringly.
“I suppose it’s not so bad in a man,” Blanche replied generously. “It’s different for a girl. Rietta’s only happy when she’s reading some dusty book. They make me sneeze.”
* * * *
As agreed, Nick met David in a public house around the corner from the Ferris home. David already had a pint of black beer before him, the lacy foam clinging halfway down. He waved Nick over and before Nick reached him, the second half of the pint was gone. “Landlord, two more,” he called.
Nick sat down across from David at the dark wood table, covered with an interlocking pattern of rings from countless glasses of stout.
“Drink up,” David said. “Get the taste of that cat-lap tea out of your mouth.”
Though it was a little early for Nick, he drank. “I’ve traveled a long way through the world and never had better beer than from home.”
‘Teach you not to leave it, then.” He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, dropping
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