Gloria’s mouth fell open.“You mean… it’s almost done and you abandoned it?The magicaleau de toilettethat could have viscounts and earls swooning at my feet?”
“It’s close,” Penelope hedged.“I’m not yet in a position to declare with empirical certainty thatDuchesswill outperformDuke, but I intend to lock myself in my laboratory until it’s ready for trials.”
“All the more reason to introduce ourselves to the Pringle brothers while they’re still here.”Gloria narrowed her eyes.“A month from now, after I bathe myself in reptile excretions—or whatever ungodly concoction you plan to create—when I next meet him in a crowded ballroom, I can say, ‘Why, Mr.Pringle, I haven’t seen you since the Christmas soirée!’And he’ll say, ‘Mmrrgle blrrrgmmph’ as he falls at my feet in a manly, yet glorious, swoon.”
Penelope shook her finger in mock reprimand.“If you apply more than the recommended dosage,allthe men in the ballroom will say ‘Mmrrgle blrrrgmmph’ in unison as they crumple gracelessly to your feet.”
“Even better,” Gloria said with delight.“Nothing starts a conversation quite like regaining consciousness among a dizzy heap of equally smitten gentlemen.”
“Once the new perfume is ready, women needn’t bothertalkingto prospective gentlemen anymore,” Penelope promised.“Chemistry will take over and the subsequent natural urges will guide them straight into your arms.”
Gloria pushed her lips into a pout.“What about those of us whoenjoytalking to men?”
“Ninnies, all of you.”Penelope linked her arm with Gloria’s.“I’d rather hold a conversation with abain mariethan some empty-headed rake.”
“Even one as wicked and handsome as Saint Nick?”
“Especially not him,” Penelope replied firmly.“Now, where was that dessert buffet?”
Chapter 2
Mr.Nicholas Pringle came to an abrupt halt inside the doorway of an enormous ballroom.He had no choice.The extravagant, high-vaulted chamber was packed elbow-to-elbow with what appeared to be every resident—and guest—of the small mountaintop village known as Christmas.
Ladies in fine frocks and gentlemen in tailored waistcoats.Ordinary men and women who looked as though they’d strolled into the castle straight from their farm, shop, or garden.A fair number of children not yet old enough to be presented at court squeezed through the bustling crowd to pilfer treats from an extensive buffet that an army of cooks would struggle to keep replenished.
Nicholas turned to his brother in disbelief.“This is your idea of a small, intimate gathering to get to know our temporary neighbors?”
Chris tossed him an unrepentant grin.“It’s even better than I had hoped.”
“What did you hope?”Nicholas asked suspiciously.
“The posted bills invited townsfolk to celebrate the success of a local perfumer,” his brother admitted.“I didn’t mention the details because it sounded…”
“Boring?”Nicholas put in dryly.
“As you can see, it is not!We are in luck.”Chris’s brow creased.“That is, if we can edge ourselves inside the ballroom.”
“Allow me,” Nicholas said magnanimously and rose to his full height in order to cast a practiced smile at the ladies most likely to recognize him.
His brother reached for his arm.“No!Don’t—”
It was too late.The curve of Nicholas’s “sensuous mouth” (as reported by the scandal columns) and the glint of wicked promise in his “sapphire irises” (never described as mere cerulean) had already wrought their magic.
A river of breathless gasps rippled through the female portion of the crowd, in many cases accompanied by the clutch of dainty hands to suddenly heaving breasts or the flurry of a painted fan aimed at an overheated décolletage.
“Six,” Chris said in disgust.“One half-smile from you and half a dozen perfectly healthy ladies swoon to their feet.”
“Nonsense.This crush is packed far too dense for anyone to fall down.”Nicholas yanked his brother forward.“You go first.They’re making way.”
After the briefest of baleful glares, his brother led the way deeper into the crowd.
Nicholas allowed himself a small grin.He and his brother were both here for the same reason: women.But there the similarity ended.
Chris sought a gentle young lady of good breeding and pretty manners with whom he could fall in love and marry.Together they would fill a large nursery with spoiled, happy children.
Nicholas could not imagine a worse fate.His tastes ran to women who preferred a quick tumble over boring talk.Those who measured their liaisons in hours, not lifetimes.
His recent fame in the caricatures had only deepened his rakish reputation.The women who chased him sought conquest, not courtship.Nicholas didn’t mind.The last thing he needed was to entangle himself with a marriageable woman.He would gladly hand all of those to his brother.
