The Falcon and the Sparrow by M. L. Tyndall

watched her turn and fade into the darkness. Elated at her acceptance, he wasn’t foolish enough to think that she had agreed because of any affection for him.
    No, something else was going on with this intriguing French-woman, something mysterious, something even dangerous, perhaps. Had she intended to strike him with the candlestick? He shook his head and gave a quick snort. It made no sense. Nothing about the woman made any sense. She fascinated him. And what was even more fascinating to him was that he now looked forward to this ridiculous dance with great anticipation.
    Yes, this ball would prove to be very entertaining, indeed.



C HAPTER 8
    D ominique pulled her blue muslin pelisse tighter around her neck against the morning mist swirling around her. Only in London did the fog seem to possess the unnatural ability to move through fabric as well as skin. Yet riding atop the chill, pleasant memories bounced over Dominique—memories of her mother lovingly insisting she and Marcel bring extra cloaks whenever they intended to visit the city.
    As if reading her thoughts, Larena glanced up into the gray sky. “We may actually get to see the sun today, miss.”
    Following her gaze, Dominique saw nothing but a bowl of soot capping the city, save for a few light cracks where the sun’s rays attempted to slice through the pudding-like fog.
    “But what difference does the weather make when we are going shopping?” Larena’s crimson curls bobbed beneath her bonnet as she walked next to Dominique. “ ’Tis most exciting, isn’t it? shopping for the ball tonight?”
    “Yes, I suppose.” Dominique attempted a weak smile. Larena had jumped at the chance to accompany her down bond street—where all high society shopped—to the Grafton House, the only draper’s shop Dominique could afford. Apparently dress shopping was not one of the chambermaid’s normal activities, but why would it be when no lady had lived in the Randal home these past three years?
    Her exuberance was almost catching—almost—for Dominiquewasn’t entirely sure she’d made the right decision in agreeing to accompany the admiral. The thought of the upcoming evening caused a tightness in her chest that had kept her up most of the night and made her ravenously hungry that morning. For breakfast, she’d consumed three poached eggs, two pieces of toast smothered with jam, sausage, and five cups of strong tea, and now she found she was hungry all over again.
    Horses clattered over the cobblestone streets, pulling elaborately painted phaetons and landaus that carried their well-dressed passengers to whatever grand events were happening that day: a horse race or cricket match or perhaps just a stroll in Hyde Park.
    Dominique edged around a peddler selling muffins, and her stomach rumbled at the sweet smell of fresh-baked dough. She pressed a hand over her complaining midsection and decided not to embarrass herself further by eating any more in front of Larena. They passed a window filled with clusters of tightly wound hair in every imaginable color and style. Dominique twirled a finger around one of her own chestnut locks as she examined the wigs, amazed at the variety and the prices.
    “If I may be so bold…” Larena gave Dominique an inquisitive glance as they continued on their way. “You should be honored the admiral asked you to the ball. He hasn’t escorted a lady to a dance since…well, since his wife died, I suppose.”
    “I am honored.” Dominique sidestepped a young lad racing down the street with an orange in his tight grip. An older gentleman followed quick on his heels, yelling, “Thief! Thief!”
    She turned and watched them coil their way through the crowd. “Poor thing. He’s probably starving.”
    Larena tilted her head and gazed at Dominique before they started forward again.
    “I do not wish to give people the wrong impression. I’m only going as a favor to the admiral,” Dominique stated.
    “A favor? Is that what he’s