Page 15 of A Foolish Flirtation

“Why, Emmeline,” he said, “are you afeared you might see someone you know?”

“Hardly! My purse does not extend to such an establishment,” she hissed. “But you may likely bump into some acquaintance, and they will wonder that you are accompanied by—by an unaccompanied female!”

“Affianced couples can usually dispense with a chaperone on such an innocent occasion,” he answered lightly.

“But we are not formally—” She bit off her words when the bell jingled as he opened the door for her. She pressed her lips together and entered before him.

“Table for two,” Jeremy instructed the hovering waiter. “In the window, I think.”

“Alas, sir, there are none currently available,” the waiter replied, his eyes passing over Emmeline’s faded bonnet.

“That couple over there in the window seem as though they are about to leave,” Jeremy replied without looking once in that direction.

The waiter gave him a swift appraisal and seemed to revise his opinion. “Of course, milord. Right away.”

“I can’t see anyone on the point of leaving,” Emmeline murmured as the waiter hurried away. “There is a little table over in that far corner that looks to be free,” she said, pointing it out.

“We do not hide away in corners, Emmeline,” he said grandly. “We are the Vances of Vance Park.”

“Vance Park?” She looked blank.

“My country seat in Cornwall.”

She gave a quick glance about them. “We should not really speak of this as though it is all settled, you know,” she said, suddenly earnest. “For it is not. Not by a long chalk.” He liked the way she lowered her voice and leaned toward him, he realized, disregarding her obstinate words. It reminded him of the old days when she had been eager for his attention.

Whatever tiresome society function he had turned up to, a bored latecomer, he knew she would be there, scanning the room for him, her aspect brightening at the mere sight of him. She had not been able to hide it. Toward the end, he had scarcely bothered to even greet his hosts or get a drink before seeking her out.

How reckless he had been. Reckless with her reputation and reckless with his heart. It had not been until Italy, on his honeymoon, that he had realized the depth of his own feeling. What a fool he had been. Blind as well as reckless.

“Ah, here we are,” he said out loud, seeing the waiter was making for them. This time he was wreathed in obliging smiles. They followed in his wake and were directed to a prime spot in front of the window. Jeremy attended to the removal of her cloak himself. He passed it to the waiter, and saw she was comfortably seated before taking the chair opposite her. “Will you take tea or coffee?” he asked.

“Tea, please.”

“Tea for the lady, coffee for me, and a selection of your finest cakes.” He turned back to Emmeline. “Have you breakfasted?” he asked quietly. “Shall I order sandwiches?”

“I have eaten,” she said quickly, and the waiter disappeared with their order. Emmeline fidgeted with the buttons on her gloves before leaning forward over the table. “In truth, my lord,” she said in hushed tones, “you cannot offer for me until you know the full amount of debt the company has incurred—”

“I have already offered for you,” he corrected her. “And moreover, you have as good as said yes.”

“Still,” she persisted grimly, “the sensible course of action would be to wait until we have a clear picture of the sum involved.”

He shook his head. “I am rarely sensible. Besides, it won’t matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whatever the sum involved, I will pay it.” Seeing her astonished expression, he added, “I warn you, if you try to pull out now, I will sue you for breach of promise.”

“I wish you would be serious.”

“In any case, I doubt very much the banks have allowed your previous fiancé to run up anything too steep. If it had been your father negotiating the loans, then yes, considerable funds might have been involved, but this fellow…” He gave a contemptuous shrug.

Emmeline seemed surprised he knew of her father’s reputation as a formidable man of business. “But if they have?” she persisted doggedly.

“If they have, I’m sure I can still bear the expense. By the way, did you determine which hotel your erstwhile suitor was staying at in Bath?”

She blinked at the rapid change in subject. “Oh. No.” Her face fell. “I should have, shouldn’t I? I was not thinking straight.”

“It is of no matter. You will have to give me his direction in London though. And that of the offices of your late father’s business.” He retrieved his calling card case from his pocket, extracted a card, and passed it to her along with his pencil in its engraved silver holder. “Will you write it on the back of this card, along with Humphrey’s full name?”