Just One Season in London by Leigh Michaels Page B

perhaps it was only the cut of the capes on his driving coat that made him look so imposing. In the drawing room, she’d thought he might be as old as her mother, but out in the open air, with his hat concealing the few silvery threads in his hair, he looked far younger. His mouth was a firm, straight line, and there was no humor in his eyes. He looked dangerous… but how ridiculous of her to think so. What could possibly happen to her within sight of the gate cottage?
    â€œI suppose I ought to have anticipated that a holdup would be exactly your style, Miss Ryecroft, though I observe you seem to have mislaid both your mask and your pistol.”
    He sounded different too. His tone was deeper and more melodious; perhaps being outside let him expand somehow. It made her feel all shivery, as if his voice had gotten inside her and was vibrating.
    â€œWhat is it you wish to discuss with me? Or shall I guess? Let us walk while I contemplate.” He strolled a few steps and paused. “I have it. You have decided to seek employment in banking, and you would like my advice as to how to go about establishing yourself.”
    Sophie was momentarily diverted. “Could I?”
    â€œDoubtful. Banks—at least my banks—do not generally employ young ladies.”
    She frowned at him. “Well, then it was ill done of you to lead me on by suggesting it. Because, as a matter of fact, it sounds as if it would be ever so much more pleasant than dancing in a theater.”
    â€œ Dancing in a… You are not like your mother, are you, Miss Ryecroft? Looks aside, of course.”
    â€œYou are laughing at me, sir.”
    â€œIndeed no.” But there was a catch in his voice that belied his words. “Let’s get on with it, shall we? What is it I am to be taken to task for, Miss Ryecroft?”
    â€œWhy did you upset Mama just now?”
    â€œI assure you it was not my intention to do so.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you answer her questions?”
    â€œPerhaps if she had been as insistent as you, I should have done. However, once my word is given on a matter of business, I do not make a practice of telling others the details.”
    He meant he’d promised Rye. But what about? Sophie chewed on that as they strolled.
    Wellingham seemed to think he’d said too much already. “Unlike you, it appears Lady Ryecroft has taken a strong dislike to my profession.”
    â€œI don’t understand what’s wrong with being a banker.”
    â€œMoneylenders, in general, are not well thought of, Miss Ryecroft.”
    â€œOh, well, if you’re talking about the cent-per-centers, no. They’re rapacious and greedy, and they drive people into debtor’s prison. But that’s different. I’m convinced you don’t do that.”
    His eyebrows rose. “What makes you so certain?”
    She had to pause to consider why she was so positive. “I suppose because when you said you don’t talk about matters of business, you seemed so… firm about it. As if you have high standards and you keep to them always.”
    â€œI am flattered,” he murmured.
    â€œAnd you said something about banks —surely if you are associated with more than one, you don’t need to be rapacious and greedy. At any rate, if you wish my mother to think well of you…” She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “ Do you?”
    â€œSomewhat to my surprise,” he said slowly, “I find that I do. I’m sure you’re about to recommend a course of action, Miss Ryecroft; I await your advice with breath held.”
    â€œYou’re laughing at me again. So I shall not offer my assistance after all.”
    â€œI am humbled,” Wellingham said gently. “But not ready to beg.”
    She noted a twinkle in his eyes. She smiled up at him and wondered how she could have thought him dangerous. He was nice really. What was wrong with her mother, not