The Scarlet Spy by Andrea Pickens Page B

under far rougher conditions than these.”
    Damn, the lady seemed determined to keep him at a distance.
    Though his jaw tightened, Osborne maintained a smile in the face of the obvious rebuff. He was not so vain as to think that every female in Christendom was longing to throw herself at his feet. But nor did he expect to have his pleasantries hurled back in his face. Did she think him naught but a flirt and a fribble?
    Fisting the reins, he silently guided his team through several tight turns. It was only when the Stanhope Gate came into view that he spoke. “Is there a reason you have taken a dislike to me, Contessa?”
    He saw a flare of emotion in her eyes before she looked away. “I fear, sir, that you misunderstand my English.”
    Both in word and inflection, her English was perfectly clear. It was her motives that were cause for question.
    “Please forgive me if I have given you the wrong impression,” she continued. “Lord Lynsley and I are extremely grateful for your willingness to introduce a complete stranger into your circle of friends. I should be greatly upset if you should think otherwise.”
    It was a handsome apology, and yet her spine remained stiff, her gaze guarded.
    “It is I who must apologize for distressing you,” he said softly. “The last thing I shall say on the subject is that if I have unwittingly offended you, I hope you will allow me to make amends.”
    After an awkward silence, Sofia asked him to identify several of the buildings along Half Moon Street. The rest of the ride passed in pleasantries; however, as he helped her down from the high perch, Osborne sensed she was anxious to escape his presence.
    Lud, he didn’t have the plague or a paunch.
His irritation increased as he watched her hurry up the marble steps and let the door fall closed without a backward glance. Perhaps his feelings were still on edge from his recent mistakes, but the fact that a complete stranger had snubbed his offer of friendship piqued his pride.
    Still staring at the dark green portal, he flexed his gloved fingers. For whatever reason, Lady Sofia Constanza Bingham della Silveri had thrown down a gauntlet.
Was he up to the challenge?
    The corners of his mouth curled. The duel would at least keep boredom at bay. It would be interesting to see which proved stronger—his reputed charm or her inexplicable disdain.
    Turning away, he walked back to his vehicle with a spring in his step. His friend Kirtland, a decorated veteran of the Peninsular War, had a name for such a confrontation.
    Mano a mano.
    He gave the horses a light flick of the whip.
    Mano a mano,
he repeated to himself. Well, may the best man win.

Chapter Five
    The scent of sweet perfumes and spicy colognes mingled with the smoke from the blazing torchieres flanking the front door. The evening was cool, but the heat inside the crowded entrance hall was already oppressive.
    Sofia looked around, taking care to mask her amazement over the sights, the sounds, the smells of her first London ball. She was now a fine lady, she reminded herself. No one must guess she was not at home in the sumptuous splendor of Mayfair’s mansions.
    A lady must always be in control of her emotions.
For an instant, the echo of Mrs. Merlin’s words rose up over the trilling voices and velvety swoosh of the evening finery. She could feel the curious stares upon her as the marquess handed her cloak to one of the porters.
    From now on, she would have to do a much better job at hiding her feelings. That Lord Osborne had seen through her show of politeness so quickly was something of a shock. Given his golden looks and great popularity, she had assumed that he would be more interested in himself than anyone else. She would take greater care not to underestimate his powers of observation again.
    “A dreadful crush, is it not?” The marquess surveyed the line of guests trying to make their way up the curved stairway. “That is, of course, the highest accolade for any evening