Collin studied Michael for a moment, considering his words. As an older brother, he was used to monitoring the potential suitors for his sister, making sure that anyone with less than pure motives was removed immediately. Though his sister was happily married now, the instinct still remained, but as he studied Michael, he didn’t pick up any of the warning signs that he would be less than honorable in his pursuit of whatever woman this was. Sometimes a challenge was only that, a bit of extra work that was worthwhile, and his instinctsaid that this was the case for Michael. He wasn’t one to prey on women, Collin didn’t think. And usually his instincts were correct.
“We should have taken my carriage,” Collin said when they were about halfway back to Michael’s home.
“It would have drawn too much attention. Plus, if any other people of quality were visiting from London, they could recognize your crest on the carriage. Better to play it safe and keep your anonymity.”
“Very well,” Collin agreed, tugging at his collar. It was still warm for fall.
“Don’t tell me you’re so soft that you can’t handle a little walking, my lord,” Michael goaded him.
“Work smarter, not harder,” Collin returned. “If one has a luxurious conveyance, one would be amiss not to use it.”
Michael gave him a disbelieving expression but straightened as they came around the corner and saw his house.
Collin enjoyed watching his new friend grow more anxious as they approached the dwelling. There were little signs, but ones that Collin picked up on nonetheless. Michael started tapping his fingers against his breeches as they walked. Next, he rubbed his nose, then tugged his earlobe. For one who was usually so collected and had a history of facing down criminals, he certainly seemed a bitagitated, and it was deeply amusing to watch him grow more and more unsure as they took the final steps to the house.
“Are you well?” Collin asked quietly.
Michael gave him a glare and whispered a word under his breath that made Collin’s grin widen.
Michael opened the door and stepped into the hall.
Collin followed, freezing behind Michael as he heard a familiar voice.
“Ah, Mr. Finch.”
It was Elizabeth Essex. He would bet his life on it. He hadn’t seen her, but the voice… He knew the voice far better than he should for such a short acquaintance. It had haunted him, beckoned him, and clearly he wasn’t the only one on whom it had that effect.
Swallowing his surprise, he followed after Michael and paused as he gave a wide, knowing grin to Elizabeth. Her eyes shifted from Michael to him, widening in shock before her chest constricted with words she dared not speak out loud.
“Good afternoon, Miss Essex. We meet again. It is, indeed, your lucky day.”
Eight
Some men are just as sure of the truth of their opinions as are others of what they know.
—Aristotle,Nicomachean Ethics
Elizabeth chose not to say the words that were on the edge of her tongue and decided to take the higher road. But it was difficult. Her body revolted against her choice as she studied the handsome and very irritating smirk on Lord Penderdale’s face. Lucky day? She thought not.
“Good afternoon to you as well, Lord Penderdale,” she said sweetly, perhaps too sweetly, because her tone brought Patricia’s attention full on her immediately, as well as Michael’s. She could feel her friend’s curiosity, as well as her would-be suitor’s curiosity like a tangible presence in the room beside her, but she ignored them. Lord Penderdale’s expression held a challenge, and she wasn’t about to be the first to look away. If he wanted a battle of wits, it was a pity she was the only one who had come armed.
Lord Penderdale’s eyes crinkled as his grinwidened. “Tell me, Miss Essex, are you having honey with your tea?”
Her eyes widened, and she twisted her lips before she lost the battle with the smile. “I’m plenty sweet on my own, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Finch?” She turned to Michael.
Michael blinked, his eyes flickering between her and Lord Penderdale before he nodded. “You’re as sweet as can be, Miss Essex.”
At his words, Lord Penderdale coughed a laugh. “Forgive me, something in my throat. Road dust.” He coughed again, his eyes not leaving hers.
“Pity you don’t have tea yourself to help rid you of the malady. But I’m sure you’ll be…leaving?” Elizabeth bit out the words as she lifted her own teacup, taking a long sip.
“Leaving? Wherever could I find better company?” Lord Penderdale asked with an innocent expression.
An expression that Elizabeth wanted to forcibly remove from his face. The man was infuriating. “Where indeed?” she answered. “I was more or less implying that you may wish to find those with whom you have more in common. Those who believe women should have their feet shackled to their needlepoint and pianoforte.”
At her words, Michael choked on a laugh he tried to cover with a cough, less successfully than Lord Penderdale. But as her eyes darted over to him, shenoted that while he was certainly amused, he was eyeing Lord Penderdale with a hint of suspicion.
Collin’s laughter interrupted her study of Mr. Finch, and she regarded him once more.
