Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I walk on, cross with myself and my annoying habit of taking action before putting my mind to it.
‘I expect the whole of London has already heard.’ Lady Dare falls into stride beside me, her gloved hands now clasped, all fiddling ceased, and her body moves with a grace that should be impossible wearing dresses such as these. ‘I must warn you, Miss Melrose,’
‘Of what?’
‘There is only room for one adventuress on this square.’
I shoot her a shocked look. Is this wildly confident, unconventional woman threatened? ‘I’m not sure I understand.’
Smiling brightly, revealing extremely white teeth, Lady Dare slows to a stop, prompting me to also, and turns her bright eyes my way. Her small nose wrinkles, her gloved hand reaching for my dress coat and tweaking a button that does not need to be tweaked. ‘How very odd,’ she says quietly. ‘I must be mistaken.’
‘About what, my lady?’ I ask, my voice becoming tight. I am sure I do not like her persona, nor her tone, nor her look of false friendliness.
‘Well, you see,’ she laughs, and it has an air of flirtation to it. Need I remind Lady Dare that she is, in fact, conversing with a fellow female who is immune to her tactics, and not any one of the gentlemen who reside here on Belmore Square, whom I expect take on a rather pathetic form of dazzlement around her frosty beauty. ‘I thought, since you are an intelligent lady’ – she looks me up and down, and it is, and is meant to be, haughty – ‘your public antics may have been a scheme to win the attention of many men.’
‘I can assure you, my intentions were nothing of the sort. I merely saw an injustice transpiring, and I was compelled to step in and halt it.’ Win the attention of many men? Never! But Lady Dare’s assumptions certainly cast light on how her mind functions. I shall bear that in mind in future, when I see her wafting her skirt with a little too much oomph, perhaps with the intention of revealing a glimmer of her laced-edged pantalettes. Tart.
‘Nearly naked.’ Her painted eyebrows lift as Viscount Millingdale trots past on horseback, smiling down at me. Me! Not the illustrious, notorious adventuress Lady Dare, but me. I shudder, the old man’s eyes creeping all over me. Miss Austen may have had her tongue firmly stuffed in her cheek when she wrote it, but she was, it would appear, correct. Should a woman have the hardship of having any knowledge on anything, she should disguise it, and disguise it well. It would appear revealing you have a brain could be fatal. Revealing your body while also revealing a brain? Christ, I am on course to get myself into all kinds of trouble, as well as killing off Papa.
But forgetting my semi-naked escapades for just a moment, let us resolve the problem at hand. Lady Dare’s problem, I hasten to add, not mine. I inhale, taking on an air of indifference. ‘My lady,’ I say over a sigh. ‘You need not worry. I prefer to flaunt my mind over my body.’
She cannot hide the fleeting wave of indignation that floats across her face. ‘I’m not sure I appreciate your insinuation.’
‘You shouldn’t,’ I say, clipped and strong, passing her. I recant my previous thoughts. I do not admire, neither do I like Lady Dare. ‘Good day to you.’ I get a strong waft of lavender as I pass, and it brings me to a sharp stop before I can find my stride. God, no. Frank! Is there no man safe from her clutches? I should like to warn her to stay away, and yet, I admit, I would only be enticing her if I were to reveal any hint of my displeasure. That is a storm I shall have to ride out, for it won’t last forever. Like every other man who has ever been caught in her web, my brother will be cast aside for the next victim.
I hope.
I pray.
And who is her next victim? I look across the square to the Winters’ house. I expect that ship has sailed. But will it sail again?
Chapter 8
I must hand it to Mother, she looks sublime in her new gown, the royal blue taffeta frills complementing her dark hair beautifully. She and Papa, who is still refusing to talk to me, leave ahead of us, since a carriage is not required for this evening’s party, which is a stone’s throw from our own house. Mr Fitzgerald, it is rumoured, has put on quite a spectacle at his home, and anyone who is anyone in London will be in attendance. It is no wonder Mama has lavished herself with a new gown, and Papa has splashed out on a new pair of breeches and a matching jacket in a blue velvet that complements Mama’s dress. They look quite the expensive couple. I expect Frank will be sporting some new garb also, but since I am yet to encounter him today, I cannot confirm. I expect he is avoiding me, and so he should, the rake! What is he thinking, cavorting with the likes of Lady Dare?