before returning her eyes to the lawn. “What is your opinion of Lord Rigby’s attention? Perhaps I will benefit from a bit of male perspective.”
“We were friends from years ago and, as I’ve only returned to the city, I wouldn’t venture to judge his character on such short renewal of friendship, although I daresay any gentleman who keeps a lovely lady waiting needlessly is not of the keenest wit.”
“I appreciate your candor.” She glanced to the field where the approaching couple stood engrossed in conversation with Lady Bitsford. “Not in a hurry at the least.” A small smile curled the corners of her mouth. “Leonard needs is to be taught a lesson. Would you not agree, Lord Dashwood?”
“Aah, are you considering the weapons at your disposal? Revenge in the form of insult, rejection, or worse, the total set down.” He stepped closer, reading the hurt riddled in her eyes as his own in the past. A pang of guilt arrowed through his chest. Damn Caroline with her indiscretion and social climbing. Damn Jasper and his imprudent investments, his careless gambling, and otherwise negligent use of their funds. Damn it all. “I’m not so foolish as to advise a young lady on affairs of the heart.” He flashed a comforting smile for good measure. An inner voice tried to find reason to assuage his conflicted sentiments. Could the situation become more ideal? Fiona wished to teach Leonard a lesson; an action instigated by hurt feelings and, if handled properly, the incident would serve his purpose well. A public argument would present the perfect impetus for Leonard to realize he’d be happier with a congenial wife instead of a demanding one.
Not
Wilhelmina, of course
. That was out of the question. Besides, Wilhelmina had a snappish tongue when she became agitated. While he found the quality endearing, it wouldn’t serve Rigby’s personality. Leonard would have to look elsewhere for a wife.
Valerian edged closer to the arbor, anxious to hear Fiona’s verbal tirade as the two approached. His pulse jumped a heavy beat, his heart pounded harder, and he assured himself it had everything to do with anticipation of the oncoming row and nothing at all to do with Wilhelmina’s fetching appearance as she stepped nearer and smiled in greeting.
Shadowing Fiona, ready to feign concern and drop a few well-placed suggestions to fuel the lady’s steeping temper, Valerian hardly acknowledged the concerted glances Fiona darted in his direction. Was she apprehensive he’d witness her distemper? He wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Besides Fiona couldn’t possible hope for privacy at a garden party. He inhaled sharply as Leonard closed the space separating the four of them.
Fiona tossed him another look over her shoulder, her expression unreadable.
Valerian waited.
Perhaps she’d give Leonard the cut direct or abrade him with a startling slap. At the least Leonard deserved a belittling insult. Valerian expected no less.
What he didn’t expect was the sleek twist of Fiona’s slim frame so she cosseted against him as if a second layer of fabric upon his waistcoat, her arms entwined around his neck before he could register her actions, her lips pressed to his mouth in an aggressive openmouthed kiss at the same instant Leonard and Wilhelmina stepped into the gazebo.
The air went incredibly still, rent only by Wilhelmina’s squeak of protest. Caught unaware, it took Valerian a half minute before shock replaced sensibility and he unwound Fiona’s embrace with determined caution, and stepped away. He caught a glimpse of Wilhelmina’s face, ash-white, and close to tears, and for the life of him he could not decipher her reaction. She looked stricken. If she truly vied for Leonard’s attention, wouldn’t she be delighted Fiona had concentrated her affections elsewhere? Where lay her objection? Fiona’s kiss paved the way for her success with Lord Rigby and his pathway to five thousand pounds. At last,
“We were friends from years ago and, as I’ve only returned to the city, I wouldn’t venture to judge his character on such short renewal of friendship, although I daresay any gentleman who keeps a lovely lady waiting needlessly is not of the keenest wit.”
“I appreciate your candor.” She glanced to the field where the approaching couple stood engrossed in conversation with Lady Bitsford. “Not in a hurry at the least.” A small smile curled the corners of her mouth. “Leonard needs is to be taught a lesson. Would you not agree, Lord Dashwood?”
“Aah, are you considering the weapons at your disposal? Revenge in the form of insult, rejection, or worse, the total set down.” He stepped closer, reading the hurt riddled in her eyes as his own in the past. A pang of guilt arrowed through his chest. Damn Caroline with her indiscretion and social climbing. Damn Jasper and his imprudent investments, his careless gambling, and otherwise negligent use of their funds. Damn it all. “I’m not so foolish as to advise a young lady on affairs of the heart.” He flashed a comforting smile for good measure. An inner voice tried to find reason to assuage his conflicted sentiments. Could the situation become more ideal? Fiona wished to teach Leonard a lesson; an action instigated by hurt feelings and, if handled properly, the incident would serve his purpose well. A public argument would present the perfect impetus for Leonard to realize he’d be happier with a congenial wife instead of a demanding one.
Not
Wilhelmina, of course
. That was out of the question. Besides, Wilhelmina had a snappish tongue when she became agitated. While he found the quality endearing, it wouldn’t serve Rigby’s personality. Leonard would have to look elsewhere for a wife.
Valerian edged closer to the arbor, anxious to hear Fiona’s verbal tirade as the two approached. His pulse jumped a heavy beat, his heart pounded harder, and he assured himself it had everything to do with anticipation of the oncoming row and nothing at all to do with Wilhelmina’s fetching appearance as she stepped nearer and smiled in greeting.
Shadowing Fiona, ready to feign concern and drop a few well-placed suggestions to fuel the lady’s steeping temper, Valerian hardly acknowledged the concerted glances Fiona darted in his direction. Was she apprehensive he’d witness her distemper? He wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Besides Fiona couldn’t possible hope for privacy at a garden party. He inhaled sharply as Leonard closed the space separating the four of them.
Fiona tossed him another look over her shoulder, her expression unreadable.
Valerian waited.
Perhaps she’d give Leonard the cut direct or abrade him with a startling slap. At the least Leonard deserved a belittling insult. Valerian expected no less.
What he didn’t expect was the sleek twist of Fiona’s slim frame so she cosseted against him as if a second layer of fabric upon his waistcoat, her arms entwined around his neck before he could register her actions, her lips pressed to his mouth in an aggressive openmouthed kiss at the same instant Leonard and Wilhelmina stepped into the gazebo.
The air went incredibly still, rent only by Wilhelmina’s squeak of protest. Caught unaware, it took Valerian a half minute before shock replaced sensibility and he unwound Fiona’s embrace with determined caution, and stepped away. He caught a glimpse of Wilhelmina’s face, ash-white, and close to tears, and for the life of him he could not decipher her reaction. She looked stricken. If she truly vied for Leonard’s attention, wouldn’t she be delighted Fiona had concentrated her affections elsewhere? Where lay her objection? Fiona’s kiss paved the way for her success with Lord Rigby and his pathway to five thousand pounds. At last,
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