A Dangerous Man by Janmarie Anello Page A

table. A footman appeared at her side.
    "Just tea" She glanced at the plate in Leah's hands. Her
lips pursed ever-so-slightly, her brows lifting in a dainty look
of surprised disapproval.
    Leah sighed. At home, breakfast was a casual affair, a serve
yourself whenever you wanted. Everything here was rigid and
formal, from eating to dressing for breakfast. Rachel's frock, a
delicate, sarcenet silk the color of butter, seemed better suited
for a grand ball than a morning meal, leaving Leah feeling
frumpy and underdressed. But Rachel was smiling, her blue
eyes soft and inviting. Here at least was a welcoming face.
    "I know this might all seem a bit overwhelming," Rachel
said before sipping her tea. "But I do not want you to be
distressed. I will be right beside you during the days and
weeks to come to lend you my advice and support. We will
begin today by touring the house and meeting the staff.
Tuesday is our at home day. That is when we receive visitors. We won't have to worry about that until next week. By
the way, dear, that is Geoffrey's seat. You should sit one seat
over, or at the head of the table. I hesitate to say anything.
But if I do not, you will never learn our ways. Don't you
agree?"
    Leah glanced down the length of the gleaming mahogany
table, which could comfortably seat fifty people. She looked
back at Rachel, who sent her a vacuous smile.

    "I wonder why I have never met your family," Rachel said.
    In truth, Rachel had taken the seat that should have been
Leah's, at Richard's right hand, but Leah kept her silence. She
did not want to alienate her new sister the first time they
spoke. "My father rarely comes to Town"
    "Are you related to Major Jamison of the King's Guard?"
    "No," Leah said, unfolding her napkin.
    Rachel frowned. "Do not be so mysterious, Leah. We are
sisters now. Tell me about your family, dear. Who are your relations? Where are you from?"
    "I have only one aunt, my mother's sister, Emma Burton,
who came to live with us after my mother died-"
    "Oh, how sad that your mother is gone. But tell me more
about your father, dear. How does he know St. Austin? Where
are his estates? What is his title?"
    And now the point of Rachel's curiosity became clear.
Gone was the illusion that Leah had found a friend in her new
sister.
    "My father has no title," she said bluntly, refusing to cower
beneath the intensity of Rachel's gaze. "He owns cotton mills.
In Lancashire."
    "Your father is in trade?" Her eyes were wide, lips pulled
back, an expression of horror one might expect if a rat had
just crawled across the table.
    Leah would have laughed if she did not realize Rachel's
reaction would soon be repeated in every drawing room in
the ton.
    "Never mind," Rachel said when Leah didn't respond.
"Tell me about you and St. Austin. Where did you meet?"
    "My father and Richard arranged everything," Leah said.
She had no intention of discussing her marriage with Rachel.
She might be smiling prettily, but her questions seemed more
an interrogation than an interest in becoming better acquainted.
    "That is as it should be, dear, but I am more interested in
you and St. Austin." Leaning forward, Rachel dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Surely you must realize legions of women have tried for years to bring St. Austin up to
scratch, without success. That is, until you"

    Visions of Lady Margaret Montague rose unbidden in Leah's
mind. The proprietary air with which she'd clung to Richard's
arm. Her silk skirts swaying flirtatiously around his legs.
    Had he loved her? Had he thought to marry her?
    It does not matter, she told herself, ruthlessly cutting off her
thoughts. Just as it did not matter that she had once thought to
marry another. They were wed. They had to build a future together, as Richard had told her, and then, shown her.
    "Naturally, I'm curious about the woman who finally managed to snag him in the parson's mousetrap. Was it love at
first sight, or a slow