you know.”
It took Iphiginia a few seconds to comprehend Lady Pettigrew’s subtle emphasis on the word
privacy
. When she did, she felt herself turn pink. Lady Pettigrew was making it clear to Marcus that he and his mistress wouldhave ample opportunity for dalliance at her country house party.
Marcus’s eyes moved reluctantly from Iphiginia to Lady Pettigrew’s bouncy little snowball figure. “Very kind of you, Lady Pettigrew. I shall consider your invitation carefully.”
Lady Pettigrew glowed with triumph. “I am delighted to hear that, my lord. I am most anxious to have Mrs. Bright examine my Temple of Vesta, you see. I wish to obtain her opinion on the archaeological exactness of my ruin.”
Marcus gazed at Lady Pettigrew as though he had suddenly discovered that she were a rather curious archaeological object herself. “Temple of Vesta?”
“Surely you are acquainted with the style, my lord” Iphiginia murmured helpfully. “There is a very fine example in Tivoli. It is a lovely circular structure. The Vestal Virgins are said to have tended the sacred flame there.”
“Virgins,” Marcus said, “have never been a subject that was of much interest to me.”
F
IVE
I WILL SEE M RS . B RIGHT HOME ,” M ARCUS SAID AS HE escorted Iphiginia, Zoe, and Amelia outside the premises of Hornby and Smith. “She and I have one or two matters to discuss in private.”
Zoe and Amelia glanced at each other and then looked at Iphiginia.
“Do not concern yourselves,” Iphiginia said quickly. “Take my carriage. I shall see you both later.”
“You’re quite certain?” Amelia gave Marcus a stony stare.
“Yes, Amelia.” Iphiginia did not care for the rough edge in Marcus’s voice any more than Amelia or Zoe did. She thought it best, however, not to make an issue out of it right there in the middle of Pall Mall.
“Very well.” Zoe gave Marcus one last uneasy look and then nodded at Amelia. “Let us be off.”
Marcus watched Amelia and Zoe walk toward Iphiginia’s small, delicate white carriage. The airy, graceful equipage was trimmed with gilt and horsed with two white mares. The animals’ braided manes were adorned with white plumes. The gleaming harness sparkled in thespring sun. The coachman wore white livery trimmed with gold buttons.
“Your carriage, I presume?” Marcus said to Iphiginia.
“How did you guess?”
“It looks like something out of a bloody fairy tale.”
“I thought it appropriate. From the description I was given of your equipage, I understood it to look like something a wicked troll might drive. I wanted to provide a counterpoint.”
“A wicked troll, eh? What does that make you, my dear Mrs. Bright? A fairy princess?”
“I assure you, I am no fairy princess.”
“Thank God for that much.” Marcus tightened his grasp on Iphiginia’s arm. He started to stride swiftly along the broad promenade of the fashionable shopping street. “I have enough problems at the moment.”
Iphiginia dug in the heels of her white kid half boots. “If you wish to discuss your problems with me, which I presume is your intention, you’ll have to slow your pace, my lord. I do not intend to gallop the length of Pall Mall with you.”
Marcus scowled, but he shortened his stride. “Enough of this nonsense. Who are you and what the devil do you think you’re about?”
“I beg your pardon?” Iphiginia busied herself with the act of unfurling her lacy white parasol. “I do not comprehend your tone or your meaning, my lord. I explained everything to you last night.”
“Last night,” Marcus said, “I believed you to be playing some clever game in order to make a place for yourself in Society.”
“Yes, I know you did.”
“This morning it was forcibly brought to my attention that you are involved in something other than an amusing masquerade. I wish to know precisely what it is you are about.”
Iphiginia tried to be patient. “I told you, sir. I am attempting to discover the
It took Iphiginia a few seconds to comprehend Lady Pettigrew’s subtle emphasis on the word
privacy
. When she did, she felt herself turn pink. Lady Pettigrew was making it clear to Marcus that he and his mistress wouldhave ample opportunity for dalliance at her country house party.
Marcus’s eyes moved reluctantly from Iphiginia to Lady Pettigrew’s bouncy little snowball figure. “Very kind of you, Lady Pettigrew. I shall consider your invitation carefully.”
Lady Pettigrew glowed with triumph. “I am delighted to hear that, my lord. I am most anxious to have Mrs. Bright examine my Temple of Vesta, you see. I wish to obtain her opinion on the archaeological exactness of my ruin.”
Marcus gazed at Lady Pettigrew as though he had suddenly discovered that she were a rather curious archaeological object herself. “Temple of Vesta?”
“Surely you are acquainted with the style, my lord” Iphiginia murmured helpfully. “There is a very fine example in Tivoli. It is a lovely circular structure. The Vestal Virgins are said to have tended the sacred flame there.”
“Virgins,” Marcus said, “have never been a subject that was of much interest to me.”
F
IVE
I WILL SEE M RS . B RIGHT HOME ,” M ARCUS SAID AS HE escorted Iphiginia, Zoe, and Amelia outside the premises of Hornby and Smith. “She and I have one or two matters to discuss in private.”
Zoe and Amelia glanced at each other and then looked at Iphiginia.
“Do not concern yourselves,” Iphiginia said quickly. “Take my carriage. I shall see you both later.”
“You’re quite certain?” Amelia gave Marcus a stony stare.
“Yes, Amelia.” Iphiginia did not care for the rough edge in Marcus’s voice any more than Amelia or Zoe did. She thought it best, however, not to make an issue out of it right there in the middle of Pall Mall.
“Very well.” Zoe gave Marcus one last uneasy look and then nodded at Amelia. “Let us be off.”
Marcus watched Amelia and Zoe walk toward Iphiginia’s small, delicate white carriage. The airy, graceful equipage was trimmed with gilt and horsed with two white mares. The animals’ braided manes were adorned with white plumes. The gleaming harness sparkled in thespring sun. The coachman wore white livery trimmed with gold buttons.
“Your carriage, I presume?” Marcus said to Iphiginia.
“How did you guess?”
“It looks like something out of a bloody fairy tale.”
“I thought it appropriate. From the description I was given of your equipage, I understood it to look like something a wicked troll might drive. I wanted to provide a counterpoint.”
“A wicked troll, eh? What does that make you, my dear Mrs. Bright? A fairy princess?”
“I assure you, I am no fairy princess.”
“Thank God for that much.” Marcus tightened his grasp on Iphiginia’s arm. He started to stride swiftly along the broad promenade of the fashionable shopping street. “I have enough problems at the moment.”
Iphiginia dug in the heels of her white kid half boots. “If you wish to discuss your problems with me, which I presume is your intention, you’ll have to slow your pace, my lord. I do not intend to gallop the length of Pall Mall with you.”
Marcus scowled, but he shortened his stride. “Enough of this nonsense. Who are you and what the devil do you think you’re about?”
“I beg your pardon?” Iphiginia busied herself with the act of unfurling her lacy white parasol. “I do not comprehend your tone or your meaning, my lord. I explained everything to you last night.”
“Last night,” Marcus said, “I believed you to be playing some clever game in order to make a place for yourself in Society.”
“Yes, I know you did.”
“This morning it was forcibly brought to my attention that you are involved in something other than an amusing masquerade. I wish to know precisely what it is you are about.”
Iphiginia tried to be patient. “I told you, sir. I am attempting to discover the
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