“It is not your safety that concerns me, Lady Harriet,” Beecham intoned. “It is...”
“Harriet, at last! I thought you might be here when I found that you had not returned to the Imperial,” Agnes sighed in relief as she reached Harriet’s side. “We must depart forthwith, my dear.”
“Why, grandmama?” Harriet frowned. “You know I am quite safe with the Duke of Penhaligon, an old friend of Ralph's.”
Agnes tried for a disarming smile. “Of course, dear. It is just that—”
“Lady Harriet?” A man’s voice cut across the words.
Harriet turned. Jeremy was engaged in conversation with Simon, who was smirking as he spoke. The Duke’s face was intent, and his hands were clasped behind his back. He was hearing something he did not like. But it was clear, neither of them had called her name.
The man whohad, stepped into view presently. He was dark-haired and handsome, with honey-brown eyes and a chiseled face, offset by dimples that softened his cheeks when he smiled.
“Good evening, Lady Harriet. I must say, I did not anticipate meeting you so soon or in such a place,” he smiled, his voice carrying the lasting hints of a French accent. “But having spied you from afar, I could not help but make my introduction to you. Long may we both remember it.”
Harriet glanced at him distractedly. “I am sorry, sir. You have the advantage of me.”
“Ah, of course!” he laughed. “In my excitement, I quite forget myself. I am Henri de Rouvroy, son of the Comte de Rouvroy, Ambassador from Paris to London. I imagine your brother has spoken of me?”
Harriet frowned, turning all her attention to him now. “My brother is in Paris on business. I have not spoken to him in a number of weeks.”
“He… did not write to you?” Henri probed.
Harriet glanced at Agnes, who nodded, almost pained.
“He did, dear, but you have not yet seen the letter,” her grandmother said softly. “It arrived this afternoon at the Imperial, forwarded from Oaksgrove.”
“Regarding?” Harriet asked.
“I imagine to inform your esteemed self that I have agreed to be your husband,” the stranger professed.
Jeremy did not particularly relish being abandoned to the company of Simon Winchester and was suspicious of the lordling’s sudden keenness to cooperate. A nasty surprise was on its way, of that he was sure. He glanced to where Harriet was exchanging words with Beecham.
The man has the infernal impudence to bar her way! He may have leeway from his master, but that goes too far!
Jeremy was about to abandon the conversation with Simon when the man put a hand on Jeremy's forearm. Anger surged within him at the brazen effrontery of both men. He turned to face the lordling, just barely controlling his irritation, reminding himself that he needed Simon's cooperation—however inexplicable it appeared to be.
“We must speak about the Opera House, Your Grace,” Simon said earnestly.
That got Jeremy's full attention. For all the wrong reasons. He had the feel of a trap closing about him.
“I had a feeling the conversation would turn this way,” he replied icily. “Now, what was it you really came here to discuss?”
“Our partnership.”
Jeremy regarded the other man, saw the sly smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth, the wide eyes, and the flicking tongue that sprinted across dry lips. He was anxious… but also confident.
“We have no partnership,” Jeremy reminded slowly, playing his part.
“Not yet. But I think we should be partners in this venture. My parents have been persuaded of your suitability, but they can be unpersuaded soon enough. What, with yourfiancée... about to belong to another man.”
Jeremy dared a glance at Harriet, who had just been approached by a young, dark-haired man.
“What are you prattling about, Winchester?” he muttered, insolently using Simon’s given name instead of his title.
It earned him a slight narrowing of the lordling’s eyes, a twitch of a mouth, and all the telltale signs of irritation. Jeremy felt a stab of satisfaction at that, which was cut short all too soon by Simon’s own contented smile.
“Lady Harriet's brother has secured a betrothal for her. It will soon be made public, at which point you and I will need to scramble to persuade my parents that you are still a suitable candidate to buy the Opera House,” he began in a tight voice. “They will be persuaded that you were either abandoned by Lady Harriet, to her detriment, or that her brother forced her to call off the engagement in favor of a more…unsuitablesuitor.”
