Wicked Nights With a Proper Lady by Tiffany Clare Page A

who smiled brightly and approached to offer assistance.
    “Good afternoon, my lord.”
    “Afternoon.”
    “Might I be of assistance?”
    “I intend to catch up with the ladies.” He nodded in the direction of Lady Charlotte and Miss Camden.
    The proprietor stepped back with a bow. “I will not keep you, my lord. Let me know if you require any assistance.”
    “I will. Thank you.” He stepped farther into the store and closer to his quarry.
    A store clerk was showing Ponsley’s daughter a hatpin. He placed the emerald-studded piece through the young woman’s hat and showed her the image she made with a handheld mirror. Miss Camden looked like the most patient woman in the world, standing off to the side, hands folded demurely over her front, head nodding as she said something too quiet for him to hear from this distance.
    Should he approach the cousin or Miss Camden first? Maybe he should approach the salesclerk helping them, since he did plan on buying some sort of bauble for Jez and this was just as good a store as any. That settled it then, two birds with one stone as the saying went.
    He stepped out from the melee of people crowded around the glass cases situated at the front of the store.
    Lady Charlotte turned to him with an inviting smile, fingers clasped to the soft yellow brim of her hat as the clerk pulled out the hairpin lodging it in place.
    “Lady Charlotte,” he said, tipping his hat forward. “Your very presence has made my morning all the brighter.”
    For the briefest moment, there was a glint of wickedness in her smile before she schooled her expression into something more becoming for a lady fresh out into society. It was practiced coyness and far too knowing for a woman who was under the age of twenty and unmarried.
    And it was in that moment—after not having spent any time alone with her the previous evening—he understood she was not a woman easily taken by surprise. He would have guffawed at the realization if they were the only two people in the room. Maybe he need not worry about her virtue. He had a suspicion the young lady knew precisely how to handle Tristan. It might be wiser to worry for his friend.
    “Lord Barrington. Fancy we should find you here. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of running into each other before now.”
    “Evidently, it is my good fortune that finds me here while you are out shopping.”
    Charlotte’s gaze slipped past his shoulder. It was brief, but he noticed her attention was momentarily distracted. A shame he hadn’t thought to invite Tristan along for his outing. The wastrel was probably still abed.
    “Alas, my lady, I am alone in my travels today.”
    Her perfectly plucked brows arched just as Miss Camden’s arm slipped through hers.
    Genny inclined her head politely, but he didn’t miss the flash of annoyance in her light brown gaze. “Lord Barrington,” she said tersely. At least she acknowledged him. To her cousin she said, “I saw the most beautiful hairpiece. I must show it to you at once.”
    She tried to tug her cousin away from him, but Charlotte budged not an inch.
    Did he have an accomplice in monopolizing Miss Camden’s time?
    “What brings you to Bond Street, my lord?” Charlotte asked.
    “I am on a mission to find the most nonsensical frippery possible.”
    “For whom do you purchase this gift? Maybe—”
    “Charlotte,” Miss Camden scolded. “You cannot ask such things.”
    Charlotte’s cheeks pinkened and he doubted it had anything to do with her boldness, but was instead a result of Miss Camden’s firm, public reprimand. “I only meant that we could be of service and help you pick something out.”
    “I cannot refuse such a generous offer.” He looked to Miss Camden, his smile slow and easy. She chewed on her lower lip as she stared at him questioningly. “The frippery is for Jez … I mean the Dowager Countess of Fallon.”
    Charlotte covered her mouth too late to hide her amusement over the nickname.