A Gentleman's Honor

better than she did.

There was nothing she could say—that she could think of that was safe to say—so she merely held his gaze and, her pulse still thundering, waited to follow his lead.

That seemed an acceptable response. When, stepping back, he quizzed her with his eyes, she merely arched a brow, and saw his lips quirk.

He took her hand, raised it to his lips. “I’ll leave you. I’m afraid I won’t be attending the Waverleys’ ball tonight.” He turned to the door; she walked beside him. “I need to consult with some others about the investigation.”

He opened the door; she led him into the front hall.

“The rumors concerning you and Ruskin should be fading.”

She glanced at him, saw a frown in his eyes. “I’m sure we’ll manage.”

Her even reply didn’t reassure him. “Lady Amery will be attending, and Lady Osbaldestone, too, should you need any support.”

Opening the front door, she held it, and looked at him. “I doubt that will be necessary, but I’ll bear it in mind.”

Pausing by her side, he looked into her eyes. She got the distinct impression he wanted to say something more, something other, but couldn’t find the words.

Then he reached out, with the pad of his thumb caressed her lower lip.

It throbbed.

Swiftly, he bent his head, pressed a kiss, hard and definite, to the spot, then he straightened. “I’ll call on you tomorrow.”

With a nod, he went down the steps.

She stood at the door, watching him walk away, then shut it. She paused, waiting until her nerves steadied and untensed, then, lips firming, she headed for the stairs.

Alicia tapped on the door of Adriana’s bedchamber, then entered.

Sprawled on her bed, her sketchbook before her, Adriana looked up, then smiled. Impishly. “Has he gone?”

“Yes.” Alicia frowned as Adriana bounced into a sitting position. “But you shouldn’t have left us alone.”

“Why ever not?” Adriana grinned. “He was waiting to be alone with you, wasn’t he?”

Sitting on the end of the bed, Alicia grimaced. “Probably. Nevertheless, it would be wiser if I didn’t spend time alone with him.”

“Nonsense! You’re a widow—you’re allowed to be alone with gentlemen.” Adriana’s eyes sparkled. “Especially gentlemen like him.”

“But I’m not a widow—remember?” Alicia frowned.

“And gentlemen like him are dangerous.”

Adriana sobered. “Surely not—not him.” She frowned. “Geoffrey told me Tony—Torrington—was totally trustworthy. An absolutely to-his-bones honorable gentleman.”

Alicia raised her brows. “That may be so, but he thinks I’m a widow. His attitude to me is based on that.”

“But…”Adriana’s puzzlement grew; curling her legs, she shifted closer, studying Alicia’s face. “Gentlemen do marry widows, you know.”

“Perhaps.” Alicia caught her eye. “But how many noblemen marry widows? I don’t think that’s at all common. And you know what the books said—unless of the nobility herself, a widow is often viewed by gentlemen of the haut ton as a perfect candidate for the position of mistress.”

“Yes…but the books were warning of the general run of gentlemen, the bucks, the bloods, the—”

“Dangerous blades?” Alicia’s lips twisted; reaching out, she squeezed Adriana’s hand. “You’re not, I hope, going to tell me Tony—Torrington—isn’t dangerous.”

Adriana pulled a face. “No. But—”

“No buts.” Alicia spoke firmly, then stood. “In my estimation, it would be unwise for me to be alone with Torrington in future.”

Adriana’s eyes, fixed on her face, narrowed. “Did he kiss you?’

Her blush gave her away; she met Adriana’s eyes fleetingly. “Yes.”

“And?” When she said nothing, Adriana prompted,

“How was it? How did it feel?”

The word brought back exactly how it had felt; warmth spread beneath her skin, her nipples tightened. One glance confirmed that Adriana was not going to be deterred. “It was… pleasant. But,” she quickly added, “indulging in such pleasantness is far too risky.”

She could see more questions forming in Adriana’s inquisitive mind. “Now that’s enough about me.” She reverted to her firmest tone. “I intend to avoid Torrington in future. But what about you? You’re the reason we’re here, after all.”

Adriana gazed up at her. After a moment, she said, “I like Geoffrey. He’s kind, and funny, and…” She drew breath and continued in a rush, “I think he might be the one.”

That last was said with an almost stricken look. Alicia sat again. “If you only think he might be, perhaps we should cast around a trifle more until you’re certain. There are three weeks yet before the Season begins, so you’ve plenty of time—there’s no reason to feel you must reach a decision quickly.”

“Indeed.” Adriana frowned. “I wouldn’t want to make a mistake.”

The sisters sat side by side, both staring into space, then Alicia stirred. “Perhaps”—she glanced at Adriana —“to help in deciding, it might be time to ask Mr. King to dine.”

Adriana looked at her, then nodded. “Yes.” Her chin firmed. “Perhaps we should.”

Alicia held her head high, her parasol deployed at precisely the correct angle as the natty barouche she’d hired from the livery stables rolled smoothly onto the gravel of the avenue through the park.

The morning was fine; a light breeze drifted through the branches of the trees, just coming into bud. She and Adriana sat in elegant comfort; on the box before them and clinging behind, the coachman and footman were attired in severe black with bright red ribbons circling the crowns of their hats. That last was Adriana’s suggestion, a simple touch to add a hint of exclusivity.

Such things mattered when going about in the ton.

“I still can’t get over Lady Jersey being so attentive.” Adriana lifted her face to the breeze; her dark curls danced about her heart-shaped face. “She has such a reputation, but I thought she was quite nice.”

“Indeed.” Alicia had her own ideas over what had prompted Lady Jersey’s kind words, and those of the other senior hostesses who had found a moment during the Waverleys’ ball to stop beside her to admire Adriana and wish them both well. She strongly suspected Lady Amery and her dear friend Lady Osbaldestone had been busy. And she knew at whose behest.

“Oh! There’s Lady Cowper.” Adriana returned her ladyship’s wave.

Alicia leaned forward and directed their coachman to pull up alongside her ladyship’s carriage, halted on the verge.

Emily, Lady Cowper, was sweet-tempered and good-natured; she had from the first approved of Mrs. Carrington and Miss Pevensey. “I’m so glad to see you both out and about. The sun is so fickle these days one daren’t let an opportunity pass.”

“Indeed.” Alicia touched fingers; Adriana smiled and bowed. “One can only attend a few balls each night, and there’s so many one simply cannot find in the crowds.”

Lady Cowper’s eyes gleamed. “Especially when so many need to have their notions set straight. But that small contretemps seems to be sinking quite as quickly as any of us might wish.”

Alicia shared a satisfied, understanding smile with her ladyship. They chatted about upcoming events for five minutes, then took their leave; the carriage rolled on.

To Lady Huntingdon, then Lady Marchmont, and finally Lady Elphingstone.

“That color so becomes you, my dear.” Lady Elphingstone examined Alicia’s maroon twill through her lorgnette, then turned that instrument on Adriana’s gown of palest lemon. “I declare you both are forever at the very pinnacle of modishness—always just so, never a step too far. I only wish my niece would take note.”