As best Christian could tell, Isabella was Leona's lady's maid and companion now.
Isabella had dressed her mistress's hair in a fashionable style that took advantage of Leona's mane of chestnut curls. He had seen those locks flowing wildly and sensually a few times, rather than primped into the knots and tendrils that fit so neatly beneath her straw bonnet today.
One time had been the night she helped him to flee Macao. Another time had been earlier in his visit, when she found him at his worst, then became the mirror in which he saw the coward he was.
Leona tried not to look at him while she enjoyed the park. Eventually she acknowledged his attention, however. Her dark, expressive eyes met his and lingeredjust enough to reveal her caution regarding him. She was still inclined to run and hide, he guessed.
“You are talking to Isabella too much,” he said.
“Are you telling me that these fine people think it wrong to converse with one's servants?”
“I am saying that you should be talking to me instead. You will have to eventually, Leona.”
She leveled a direct gaze at him. She had no idea how much passion could be seen in her eyes when her temper was prodded, and how that could arouse a man.
“Fine, we will speak. Will you choose a topic, or should I? Mine would be a simple one and a product of the curiosity of the moment.”
“Now the curiosity is mine, so the choice must be yours.”
She glanced at the horses and carriages so close one could touch them. “Since we arrived, many of these people have tried to catch your eye and greet you, but you have cut every single one. Are you always so rude? Or does your title and station mean that the word rude does not even apply to you?”
It was more a scold than a challenge. He had no option except to turn his attention to the many bodies pressing past them. He nodded a few greetings as addresses were paid.
Since this was hell, a reminder of his sins was inevitable. No sooner had he unmuffled the horns than two of them blared right in his ear. Mrs. Napier approached from the other direction, displaying her blond beauty from her perch on a white horse. Seeing his carriage, she aimed toward him.
Around her neck she displayed a diamond necklace,one most inappropriate for the hour. It served as proof to society that being thrown over by her recent lover had left her with more profit than enjoying his constancy ever would.
She smiled down while her cool eyes scrutinized Leona from the shadows beneath the brim of her violet hat. An unkind merriment communicated that she thought he had made a far worse bargain than she in the affair's final accounting.
As if one demon were not enough, another horse pulled up alongside Mrs. Napier's during the time it took Christian's carriage to pass her. Another of his sins joined the examination of the carriage's occupants, then the two women paced their mounts away, enjoying a private joke.
“For a recluse, it appears that you are not without friends,” Leona said dryly.
“I am not a recluse. That is a baseless rumor.”
“Obviously. I trust that the other rumor is baseless as well. The one that says you are mad.”
“Actually it says that I am half mad, and that is at worst an exaggeration.”
She laughed. It was a throaty, sensual sound, and the first memory he had of her. That laugh, coming from the back of her father's house, intruding on the quiet study where Reginald Montgomery received the traveler who had arrived at his door.
Nostalgia invaded him, for that moment and the next, when the girl suddenly appeared in that study with her vivacious black eyes. He had known two things in that moment, known them so essentially thatthey required no thoughts. He knew that she was immune to his curse, and he knew that he wanted her.
He bore the passing crowd for a few more minutes, then shut them all out. “I had not noticed the attention paid me because I was intent on enjoying your company, Leona. And, I confess, I was
Isabella had dressed her mistress's hair in a fashionable style that took advantage of Leona's mane of chestnut curls. He had seen those locks flowing wildly and sensually a few times, rather than primped into the knots and tendrils that fit so neatly beneath her straw bonnet today.
One time had been the night she helped him to flee Macao. Another time had been earlier in his visit, when she found him at his worst, then became the mirror in which he saw the coward he was.
Leona tried not to look at him while she enjoyed the park. Eventually she acknowledged his attention, however. Her dark, expressive eyes met his and lingeredjust enough to reveal her caution regarding him. She was still inclined to run and hide, he guessed.
“You are talking to Isabella too much,” he said.
“Are you telling me that these fine people think it wrong to converse with one's servants?”
“I am saying that you should be talking to me instead. You will have to eventually, Leona.”
She leveled a direct gaze at him. She had no idea how much passion could be seen in her eyes when her temper was prodded, and how that could arouse a man.
“Fine, we will speak. Will you choose a topic, or should I? Mine would be a simple one and a product of the curiosity of the moment.”
“Now the curiosity is mine, so the choice must be yours.”
She glanced at the horses and carriages so close one could touch them. “Since we arrived, many of these people have tried to catch your eye and greet you, but you have cut every single one. Are you always so rude? Or does your title and station mean that the word rude does not even apply to you?”
It was more a scold than a challenge. He had no option except to turn his attention to the many bodies pressing past them. He nodded a few greetings as addresses were paid.
Since this was hell, a reminder of his sins was inevitable. No sooner had he unmuffled the horns than two of them blared right in his ear. Mrs. Napier approached from the other direction, displaying her blond beauty from her perch on a white horse. Seeing his carriage, she aimed toward him.
Around her neck she displayed a diamond necklace,one most inappropriate for the hour. It served as proof to society that being thrown over by her recent lover had left her with more profit than enjoying his constancy ever would.
She smiled down while her cool eyes scrutinized Leona from the shadows beneath the brim of her violet hat. An unkind merriment communicated that she thought he had made a far worse bargain than she in the affair's final accounting.
As if one demon were not enough, another horse pulled up alongside Mrs. Napier's during the time it took Christian's carriage to pass her. Another of his sins joined the examination of the carriage's occupants, then the two women paced their mounts away, enjoying a private joke.
“For a recluse, it appears that you are not without friends,” Leona said dryly.
“I am not a recluse. That is a baseless rumor.”
“Obviously. I trust that the other rumor is baseless as well. The one that says you are mad.”
“Actually it says that I am half mad, and that is at worst an exaggeration.”
She laughed. It was a throaty, sensual sound, and the first memory he had of her. That laugh, coming from the back of her father's house, intruding on the quiet study where Reginald Montgomery received the traveler who had arrived at his door.
Nostalgia invaded him, for that moment and the next, when the girl suddenly appeared in that study with her vivacious black eyes. He had known two things in that moment, known them so essentially thatthey required no thoughts. He knew that she was immune to his curse, and he knew that he wanted her.
He bore the passing crowd for a few more minutes, then shut them all out. “I had not noticed the attention paid me because I was intent on enjoying your company, Leona. And, I confess, I was
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