Page 15 of Souvenir of Love

“Last night—” Elizabeth started again.

“Don’t confuse lust with love. You were young and willing and he took advantage. It probably amused him to dally with my sister; I wouldn’t be surprised if he saw seducing you as revenge for my failure to offer for Anne.”

“It’s always James you fault, never Anne.”

“With good reason. Anne has a sense of right and wrong. James has none.” His hazel eyes met hers. “But, let us say, for the sake of argument, Anne was behind what happened. All the more reason you shouldn’t marry him. Would you want a man with so few morals that he’d play whoremaster for his sister?”

Alix gasped. Madeleine stared at Rafe. And Louisa gazed with worn eyes at her daughter. Elizabeth ignored the remark.

“And if he asks you for my hand?”

“Why then”—Rafe slashed open a roll with his butter knife—“I’ll kill him.”

Six

“Only listen to this, James!” Anne, stretched out on the faded silk divan wearing her nightdress and robe, sat up and began reading: “The Dinsmore assembly, held Wednesday last, was a glittering affair.” She perused the column quickly. “I won’t bore you with the list of guests and what was served.” She glanced over at her brother, who was also in his dressing gown, hair unbound over his broad shoulders, sipping coffee. “I’ll skip straight to the delicious part:

“A certain young lady in her first season, whom, for the sake of her noble family, we shall henceforth refer to as Lady E, made a lasting impression on the guests assembled at the Dinsmores’. According to our source, the lady did more than come out—she went in, as into the library, alone with a certain notorious Lord D. There the two engaged in something far less intellectual than reading.”

Anne chuckled. “Less intellectual than reading… Don’t youadoreit,Lord D?”

“Always exciting to see one’s endeavors in print,” James remarked dryly.

“Most satisfying.” She smiled. “And you know how I labored over that particular phrase. Now where was I? Ah yes?—

“Scandalized guests discovered the couple. Her brother, who, this writer ventures to guess, was paying more attention to his young bride than his young sister, whisked Lady E home.”

Anne lowered the broadsheet. “What I would not give to see His Lordship’s face when he readsthatline.”

“I, for one, am grateful I shall not be there when he does.”

“No doubt he shall beextremelyvexed with you. You should probably avoid places you might encounter him for the next few weeks.” She set the broadsheet down with a sigh. “Though truly, it is most unfair. Why should you be blamed because Elizabeth hasn’t the good sense God gave a goose? I tried to warn Moreham he needed to keep an eye on her. That he should select a wife able to guide his sister through the pitfalls of the ton.” Anne tsked. “Women in our society can be dreadfully unforgiving.”

“Indeed,” James said, eyeing his sister.

“Indeed,” she agreed, lifting a delicate flowered teacup from the table at her side. “Howlovelyof them to publish my work so promptly.”

“For what you paid the scoundrels, I should hope so.”

“An investment in Elizabeth Harcrest’s future, or what remains of it.” She saluted him with her cup. “I must thank you, brother dear, for taking the time out of your busy schedule to deliver it to the printers.Priorto the actual event,” she said with amusement. She took a sip of tea and closed her pale-blue eyes, savoring the taste. “This blend is marvelous; you really should try it.”

“I’m quite satisfied with my coffee.”

“And of course I owe you even greater thanks. I hope you didn’t find seducing Elizabeth too tedious.”

“Not at all.”

“From what I could see…well, from what everyone could see, Elizabeth appeared to be enjoying your attentions.”

The silver coffeepot in James’s hand wavered and a few drops splashed onto his saucer. He tightened his grip. “Naturally. What else should she have expected from the notorious Lord D?”

A peal of delighted laughter escaped from Anne. “What else? But to dally with an awkward little virgin… I suspect the experience must have been unsatisfying, to say the least.”

“To say the least,” he murmured blandly, thinking of how close he had come to making love to Elizabeth Harcrest. His blood pulsed at the memory. He felt himself hardening beneath his nightshirt. He didn’t want to think about Elizabeth, how she’d looked, how she’d felt beneath him, the fevered keening that escaped her throat when he’d stroked her. “So, Anne, what are your plans for this afternoon?”

She stretched back luxuriously on the worn couch. “It’s a lovely day for a ride in the park, don’t you think? Make the rounds, see who is about, wonder aloud what poor Moreham will do about his scandalous sister. Shall you come with me?”

“I’ve an appointment with my tailor.”