Beautiful Lies by Emilie Richards Page B

odd habit of repeating the final words of a sentence, as if he thought no one he spoke to was really listening, and an even odder habit of staring reverently at Sebastian Somerset. Colson could quote facts and figures like a textbook on the pearling industry, but he had no conversational skills beyond discussions of the weather—with emphasis on how it related to business.
    â€œYou seem to enjoy yourself here,” Archer told Colson when the string quartet and warbling soprano had finished for the evening. “Tell me, is there anything in Broome that could make life more pleasant these next months?”
    Colson looked shocked, as if a pleasant life was the first step on the road to degradation. “I work long hours for Mr. Somerset, and I find that rewarding enough. Rewarding enough.”
    Bringing Colson to his knees had been a business proposition at first, but now Archer decided he was going to enjoy it. “Really? You don’t drink? Gamble?” He lowered his voice. “You don’t chase the ladies? A man with such prospects for the future? I was sure you would be in high demand.”
    Colson flushed. “I work too hard to worry about such things.”
    â€œYou know what they say about all work and no play. Why don’t you spend the rest of the evening with me? I’m new in Broome, and I don’t know where a gentleman spends his time.” Archer lowered his voice. “There aren’t many true gentlemen in town, are there?”
    Colson succumbed to temptation. “There aren’t too many places where you’ll feel comfortable.”
    â€œThat’s why I need your help.”
    â€œI suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Wouldn’t hurt,” he said.
    â€œGood man.” Archer clapped him on the back. “Then shall we say our good-nights? I believe Miss Somerset is coming our way.”
    Viola moved gracefully toward them, as if she had come to help. “Did you gentlemen enjoy the music?”
    â€œI’m a great admirer of Stephen Foster’s songs, particularly when they’re sung on key,” Archer said with a grin.
    Viola made a face. “My mother’s choice. She has a tin ear.”
    Colson looked shocked. “That hardly seems like something you should say about your dear mother.”
    â€œFreddy, my dear mother is always more concerned about her performers’ pedigrees than their talent.”
    â€œMr. Colson has agreed to show me a little of Broome,” Archer said.
    â€œI’m sure you’ll be in excellent hands. Freddy won’t lead you astray, will you, Freddy?”
    Freddy looked mildly shocked that Viola would even know such a thing was possible. “Mr. Llewellyn is interested in a proper look at our little burg.”
    â€œMr. Llewellyn strikes me as a man whose interest in what’s proper is…” She hesitated with a smile hovering at her lips. “Words fail me.”
    â€œAcute?” Archer offered. “Heartfelt?”
    The smile blossomed. “Are words just one of your many talents?”
    â€œWe’ll see.”
    Archer and Freddy said their goodbyes, and Archer made a particular point of thanking Viola’s parents for the invitation. Then he and Freddy set off for town on foot.
    â€œMiss Somerset seems quite taken with you,” Archer said, once they were on the road.
    Freddy sounded unsure. “Did you think so?”
    â€œFrom long experience I’d say all the signs are there.”
    â€œI rather thought she was trying to humiliate me.”
    Archer gave a conspiratorial chuckle. “As lovers so often do.”
    â€œHer father would like us to marry.”
    â€œThen what could stand in your way?”
    â€œI owe Mr. Somerset a great deal. I’ll marry Viola, if it pleases him.”
    Archer considered wringing the man’s neck right then and there, but he knew he would be the first suspect, since they had left the Somersets’