see Susan and eager—in Susan’s best interests, or so she told herself—to tell the wicked man that Susan was now beyond his reach, she asked the butler to show him up.
When the earl entered, she felt the same little sharp shock she always experienced when she saw him. He was indeed a handsome man with his red hair, powerful build, and clear gray eyes fringed with those thick, sooty lashes. They surveyed each other in silence like two strange cats.
Then Harriet found her voice. “Please sit down, my lord.”
He sat down opposite her. She said, “The reason I have granted you an audience…”
“An
audience
, Miss Tremayne? Are we become royalty?”
She bit her lip and then went on. “The reason I wanted to see you was to inform you of Susan’s engagement to Mr. Charles Courtney.”
“I know all about that. I have already offered the happy couple my felicitations.”
She surveyed him in surprise. “Then why are you come? After the insults we traded at the Debenhams, I did not expect to see you again.”
“I am sorry I said what I did. Pray accept my apologies.”
“The insult was great.”
“So was your calling me a vain lecher.”
“Well, I suppose I must accept your apology, and I offer you mine.”
“Thank you.” He rose to his feet. “I would be your friend, Miss Tremayne. London can be a wicked city. Should you ever need my help, please call on me.”
He bowed and left.
She sat down, feeling bewildered and breathless. She then became aware her butler was announcing Sir Thomas Jeynes. She nodded vaguely as a signal that he was to be admitted.
“I saw Dangerfield leaving,” said Sir Thomas. “I am surprised you saw him.”
“He came to apologize,” said Harriet.
“Ah-ha! He is trying to get back in your good graces so as to be near Miss Colville.”
“I do not think so. He already knew that Susan had become engaged to young Courtney.”
Sir Thomas went very still, like a lizard on a rock when a shadow falls on it. “This is news to me,” he said at last.
Harriet walked to the window and looked down into the street. “I am relieved. Susan is safe. It is all highly suitable.”
A man was selling watercress, another mackerel. Their salesmen’s cries filtered up through the hot, still air.
“And yet,” said Sir Thomas behind her, “I would still be careful of Dangerfield.”
She swung around. “Why?”
“Miss Colville is not yet married. I do not believe he will give up that easily.”
Despite her own unrealized jealousy, common sense came to Harriet’s aid. She said impatiently, “Lord Dangerfield has shown no signs of undying passion for Susan.”
“That is not his way. He waits, coiled, like a serpent ready to strike.”
“Fiddle.”
“We will see. I would be honored if you would accept my escort to the opera tomorrow night.”
“Susan and I are going to the Durveys’ turtle dinner tonight and I think tomorrow after the Michaelsons’ breakfast that we will both enjoy a quiet evening at home.”
“But I will see you at the Michaelsons.”
“Of course, Sir Thomas.”
He bent and kissed her hand. “You are indeed a handsome and intriguing lady, Miss Tremayne.”
Harriet smiled at him, his compliment pleasing her inordinately, for although she had said she forgave the earl, his insult still rankled.
The following day was still unusually hot. Lord Dangerfield was not present at the Michaelsons’ and Harriet found she had to watch Susan and Charles closely, as the couple had a habit of slipping off together. It was when she finally tracked them for the last time to an arbor in the garden and found them kissing each other, Susan with all the greed that she usually gave to chocolate, that she decided it was time to take Susan home.
She wondered bleakly after she had given the couple a severe reprimand whether she was
When the earl entered, she felt the same little sharp shock she always experienced when she saw him. He was indeed a handsome man with his red hair, powerful build, and clear gray eyes fringed with those thick, sooty lashes. They surveyed each other in silence like two strange cats.
Then Harriet found her voice. “Please sit down, my lord.”
He sat down opposite her. She said, “The reason I have granted you an audience…”
“An
audience
, Miss Tremayne? Are we become royalty?”
She bit her lip and then went on. “The reason I wanted to see you was to inform you of Susan’s engagement to Mr. Charles Courtney.”
“I know all about that. I have already offered the happy couple my felicitations.”
She surveyed him in surprise. “Then why are you come? After the insults we traded at the Debenhams, I did not expect to see you again.”
“I am sorry I said what I did. Pray accept my apologies.”
“The insult was great.”
“So was your calling me a vain lecher.”
“Well, I suppose I must accept your apology, and I offer you mine.”
“Thank you.” He rose to his feet. “I would be your friend, Miss Tremayne. London can be a wicked city. Should you ever need my help, please call on me.”
He bowed and left.
She sat down, feeling bewildered and breathless. She then became aware her butler was announcing Sir Thomas Jeynes. She nodded vaguely as a signal that he was to be admitted.
“I saw Dangerfield leaving,” said Sir Thomas. “I am surprised you saw him.”
“He came to apologize,” said Harriet.
“Ah-ha! He is trying to get back in your good graces so as to be near Miss Colville.”
“I do not think so. He already knew that Susan had become engaged to young Courtney.”
Sir Thomas went very still, like a lizard on a rock when a shadow falls on it. “This is news to me,” he said at last.
Harriet walked to the window and looked down into the street. “I am relieved. Susan is safe. It is all highly suitable.”
A man was selling watercress, another mackerel. Their salesmen’s cries filtered up through the hot, still air.
“And yet,” said Sir Thomas behind her, “I would still be careful of Dangerfield.”
She swung around. “Why?”
“Miss Colville is not yet married. I do not believe he will give up that easily.”
Despite her own unrealized jealousy, common sense came to Harriet’s aid. She said impatiently, “Lord Dangerfield has shown no signs of undying passion for Susan.”
“That is not his way. He waits, coiled, like a serpent ready to strike.”
“Fiddle.”
“We will see. I would be honored if you would accept my escort to the opera tomorrow night.”
“Susan and I are going to the Durveys’ turtle dinner tonight and I think tomorrow after the Michaelsons’ breakfast that we will both enjoy a quiet evening at home.”
“But I will see you at the Michaelsons.”
“Of course, Sir Thomas.”
He bent and kissed her hand. “You are indeed a handsome and intriguing lady, Miss Tremayne.”
Harriet smiled at him, his compliment pleasing her inordinately, for although she had said she forgave the earl, his insult still rankled.
The following day was still unusually hot. Lord Dangerfield was not present at the Michaelsons’ and Harriet found she had to watch Susan and Charles closely, as the couple had a habit of slipping off together. It was when she finally tracked them for the last time to an arbor in the garden and found them kissing each other, Susan with all the greed that she usually gave to chocolate, that she decided it was time to take Susan home.
She wondered bleakly after she had given the couple a severe reprimand whether she was
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