Time's Fool by Patricia Veryan Page B

“In truth, he is exceeding shrewd, my dear Papa. You will scarce believe, but only last month he predicted that due to recent—er, events, you would now come racing home. That you would assure me your sudden return had nothing, but nothing to do with the fact that your father has been so silly as to ruin himself, so that ’tis vital you secure a rich wife!”
    At this, a gasp escaped him. For an instant the hurt was so intense as to be a physical pain. Then, something inside him seemed to turn to ice.
    With infinite care, Morris had been tiptoeing back up the stairs. At this point, having reached the landing, he gave a muffled groan of relief, and crept from earshot, still unobserved by the two people in the hall.
    Naomi’s eyes were glittering—with malice, no doubt, thought Rossiter. Yet even now she was so heart-rendingly beautiful. And so very far removed from her counterpart in Tranquillity Terrace. Determined not to let her see how deeply she had wounded him, he managed somehow to say coldly, “You are vulgar. But then, as you said—no respectable single lady would call at the home of a bachelor.”
    She started a furious rejoinder, then closed her lips and walked a few paces away. With a little giggle, she spun around and said brightly, “ Touché. And I must not forget the reason for my call. It is that I have lost quite a valuable antique chess piece. ’Twas accidentally broken, and my father had sent it away to be repaired. I collected it from the jeweller in Stour Street yesterday.”
    â€œIndeed? And the highwaymen stole it from you, ma’am?”
    â€œNo. They got nothing. Only, it is gone from my reticule, and—”
    Rossiter’s head tossed an inch higher. “But of course. You thought I had stolen it.” His eyes narrowed with rage. “A logical assumption when dealing with so dastardly a villain.”
    â€œNo, no. We do not believe you would stoop to— small knaveries, Captain Rossiter.”
    A muscle twitched in his jaw, and for an instant his stare became a blazing glare that frightened her. Then he bowed mockingly, and she went on, “I merely hoped you might have seen it. My father’s men found the wrappings near the spot where your friend shot Mr. Falcon.”
    â€œSo that is why James shot him.” His smile contemptuous, he drawled, “I’d no idea he was so ardent a player as to kill for a chess piece. Though most men—”
    Angered by his sarcasm, she flared, “Most men are despicable!”
    He bowed again. “Before—or after they suffer a reversal of fortunes, madam?”
    Naomi’s riding whip swung up but her wrist was caught in a grip of iron.
    â€œTemper, temper,” chided Rossiter. “With all his vaunted shrewdness, ’tis remarkable that your papa has failed to teach you that a lady of Quality should not behave like a guttersnipe.”
    She was shaking with anger, but when she wrenched free, he was not treated to the blistering denunciation he anticipated. Instead, she demanded loftily, “Am I to understand you did not see the piece? It is quite small, and fashioned of pink jade and rubies.”
    â€œBut—dear lady, surely you must apprehend there is no point in asking me. An I had seen it, I certainly would never tell the truth of the matter. And since one is judged by the company one keeps, you will appreciate that to question my friend would be as pointless.”
    He strode past her, swung the front door wide, and proffered her hat. “Speaking as an accomplished cheat, lecher, and—liar, I have no hesitation in saying—to have met you again, my lady, has been … a pleasure.”
    She should be able to find an answer to that barb, surely? But there was something about the haggard face and sardonic smile that made her feel cheapened and oddly disturbed. Words eluded her, and taking up the train of her habit, she snatched her