“Oh, do be honest, you terrible man,” Camille tormented him as she usually did.“You hate ‘the duty’.”She’d always dubbed his escort services that.Tonight was no different, even though Camille with her strawberry blonde hair and nearly black eyes was a striking woman of eighteen who could glance at a man and make him swoon.
“Look, my little duck, you must learn to take a compliment when it’s given to you.”
Camille looked no more like a duck than a loaf of bread.In fact, Ada had often heard Liv say her daughter resembled a poppy.With that cloud of vibrant hair and come-hither eyes, the girl had the brusque charm of afemme fatale.
But that didn’t matter.Camille and Pierce were always calling each other silly names, taunting and testing the limits of humor…and some other emotion that Ada could not name.Ada shook her head.Mystified why two people who found each other so appealing that they sat together, walked together and often ignored others around them, they tormented each other moment by moment.
Camille picked at the bright white satin collar of her cape and said, “I chose this to look like a queen tonight.I’d like a famous French artist for my own.”
“You’ll find one,” Ada said, blocking a remark by Pierce with a nudge of her shoe to his leg.
“And what of you, hmm?”Pierce said.“Father tells me you had a run-in with illustrious Ridgemont.Bit of an arse, isn’t he?”
Recalling the laughing face of Victor Cole over a breakfast table, she shook away how she longed for him and put the proper term to this.“By popular agreement, that word isass.”
“Ass, it shall be,” Pierce said and they managed to travel to the gallery in some semblance of congeniality.
The champagne bottles were drained.Patrons praised and bought up those art works that Remy had posted available for purchase.The company was charming, discreet and within two hours the gallery grew quiet.
Pierce had disappeared minutes ago.Camille, too.If they’d gone home to Piccadilly early, that left Ada to ride with her parents.Happy to sink into the squabs and let Liv and her father exclaim over this person or that, she longed for her bed.
“This supper party will not be a late one,” Liv said and squeezed Ada’s hand.
“I see you’re both tired,” her father said.“I’ll shoo them all out the door before midnight.”
“Thank you.What happened to Pierce and Camille?”
“Pierce met a gentleman at the gallery whom he knew.Pierce came to me and asked if he might invite the man to dinner.I hope you don’t mind we add another.”
“Always room for one more,” Liv said, stifling a yawn.
Within minutes, they alighted at Piccadilly and filed in the front door in a whirl of coats, and capes, gloves and hats.
“Miss Camille and Mister Hanniford are in the drawing room with their guest,” Foster told Liv.“They brought a guest with them.Four of our other guests have arrived.”
“I hope Cook is not fretting about the extra man, Foster?”
“No indeed, Ma’am.Mr.Hanniford already apologized for any inconvenience.”
The three of them took the stairs up and strolled into the drawing room.“Well, good evening,” Ada heard Liv say as she marched forward, hands out.“How wonderful to see you again.Pierce found you?Marvelous.”
The man Liv addressed was a tall ginger-headed fellow with a sweet smile on his lips and a bright turquoise twinkle in his eyes.When he turned them toward Ada and it was time for her to welcome him, she killed the urge to kiss him.
“Good evening,” he said as he took her hand in greeting and sounded as if they were the very best of friends.“Kind of you to welcome me.”
What else can I do?“A surprise to see you here.”
He cleared his throat and had the grace to look sheepish.“I have business with your brother.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t intend to take it up so soon, but I must.”
“I see.”If you are leaving in a few months, then speed is imperative.“Where are you staying?”
“I have a house in Hanover Square.”
“You don’t stay at Brentwood House when in London then?”
