“Egypt is fashionable these days, but very well. You may go, but with an escort. Ah, there you are.”
Ariana turned, to find Kynaston coming in.
•••
His eyes were still bloodshot and the general slackness remained, but he was shaved, his hair was cropped short, and his jacket, breeches, and boots were in perfect order. Ariana was an honest woman, and had to admit that despite everything he was once more distressingly godlike.
“You required something, Aunt?” His tone suggested resentment or even something more arrogant, but that didn’t deter Lady Cawle.
“Make yourself useful and escort Lady Ariana to some eccentric relative of a friend. Don’t let her go to any fashionable spot.”
Kynaston’s dark brows rose. “How far am I allowed to go in restraining her?”
“Don’t be tiresome. It’s a simple task, and shouldn’t be beyond even you.”
Clearly he’d been taxing his indulgent aunt’s patience, which wasn’t surprising.
Ariana thought he might refuse, but Lady Cawle’s power seemed to hold. “Do we use the town carriage?” he drawled.
“It could draw attention. A hackney will suffice.”
He bowed to his aunt and opened the door for Ariana. She sought a way to avoid this situation, but short of changing her mind and remaining at home, she saw none. She wanted to see the Egyptian artifacts and wouldn’t let a dictatorial woman and a disreputable wretch steal the opportunity. Ethel would be with her. Together they could handle him if he proved troublesome.
She went through the door and along the corridor in the direction of the stairs down to the hall.
•••
Titus Delacorte, Earl of Kynaston, had no desire to visit an eccentric collector.
He had no desire to go anywhere that required him to dress and behave as a gentleman should.
He particularly had no desire to be escorting Lady Ariana Boxstall, not when she stirred feelings he’d renounced. Despite the drunken haze yesterday, he’d responded to her bright eyes and vibrancy, but he’d hoped he’d felt only an irritation that would fade. But today had been the same. She’d plagued him with a direct gaze that had spoken of her low opinion of him. Hardly surprising after their last encounter, but he didn’t want anything to do with the woman. She was too disturbing to his mind and his purpose. She had looked directly at him, not up at him. Excessively tall women usually had the grace to hunch in an effort to reduce their height, but she’d stood tall and bold.
Damnable Amazon.
Damnable aunt!
Aunt Claudia had been good to him, however, even at times when he’d not been appreciative—especially then—and she asked little in return. Of course she was matchmaking, which was strange when she’d been glad to see the back of her own husband, but she seemed moved by Lady Ariana’s quest. He could appreciate a desire to save an estate from a wastrel, but was surprised that such an Amazon would make a martyr of herself.
She’d taken the lead down the corridor, straight-backed, poised, and confident. She hadn’t been so confident all those years ago, but she’d been young then, and on her first season.
He’d also been young.
So very young.
Clearly her life had been less troubled than his.
Unfortunate that their first encounter in years had gone so poorly. He couldn’t claim that being badly foxed was unusual, but to have passed out in the library and still been there at nearly noon had been uncouth. Memory of her raised fist stirred a smile. She’d meant business, as she’d shown by whacking him with the newspaper. Not a painful blow, but rather like a slap with a glove.
A challenge.
Had she meant it that way?
Any husband she chose would have a challenge. Perhaps an exciting one. But that man wouldn’t be him. Aunt Claudia had to know that—or did she think she could change anything by the force of her will? Probably.
At the top of the stairs Lady Ariana halted and turned to face him, eye to eye. “There’s no need for you to inconvenience yourself, my lord.” Such bright eyes. Such healthy, glowing skin...
“If I don’t obey, my aunt will be displeased. It’s never wise to displease the Dowager Countess of Cawle.”
