“It’s a replica ofMannequin Pis, a famous statue in Brussels.”
She approached it and dipped her hands into the water. “Why would anyone fashion a statue out of a boy…?”
“Taking a whiz?” he finished for her.
Gabriel would bet this petite young miss was blushing to the roots of her hair. Blond, now he could see more clearly out in the open.
“Yes.” She stared at the ironic statue, shaking her head.
“All kinds of folklore surrounding it.” Gabriel gestured for her to sit beside him on a conveniently placed bench. “Legends cover a gamut of possibilities. My personal favorite is that a young boy urinated on a burning fuse which resulted in saving the city from exploding to kingdom come.” He peered at it closer. “This statue is more detailed than the original.”
“You have seen it in person?”
He nodded. “My Belgian friends are quite proud of it.” Warming to his subject, he considered the statue as he spoke. “They say it captures the spirit of victory. Although the original has been stolen many times, it is always found and then either pieced back together and resurrected or rebuilt completely. They say it stands for the strength of their people.”
She seemed to be turning his words over in her mind before declaring, “I think I rather like that.”
Gabriel slid a sideways glance at her just in time to see a secret smile dancing on her lips.
For some reason, this mysterious minx affected him. Physically, of course, but also in a manner that transported him almost to another world. She emanated an unusual combination of whimsy and strength. Although petite, she most certainly was not delicate.
Not quite vulgar but close.
He’d have surmised the girl to be on her way to meet a secret lover when he’d first noticed her leave the terrace alone. Only he’d been standing in that very spot for nearly forty minutes and surely any worthy gentleman would have gone ahead of her? No one else had gone in that same direction—no single gentleman, that was.
She’d seemed somewhat distraught, almost as though she were being pursued. If it had been Prissy, he’d have appreciated some honorable gentleman such as himself watching out for her.
And so, he’d taken chase. Had he any idea of what he would stumble upon… He shook his head and stifled his amusement. Impudent wench!
She’d said the ladies retiring room had been occupied. Surely, Crawford’s guests would be accommodating so as to allow…
Again, he shook his head. He’d never pretended to understand the ways of the more delicate sex.
As a breeze swept up the hillside, Gabriel studied her profile. She brushed some wayward hair away as she watched the water stream into the statue’s surrounding basin. Long lashes and plump lips, her nose tilted up just enough to be considered rebellious.
Who was she? He’d no intentions of doing anything untoward, regardless… But the sense that he knew her bothered him in a most annoying manner.
Perhaps she was some distant cousin of Stafford’s.
He’d left the ball to escape all mention of the wedding tomorrow. Not that he didn’t celebrate the occasion fully with his old colleague and friend but because it exposed a failure on his own behalf. He ought to be wed by now, himself. For a number of years, in fact.
And yet he’d been given no choice in the matter.
“Perhaps you could teach me.” The words escaped before he could stop them.
She glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “Teach you what?”
“To dance. Isn’t that what we were discussing earlier?” Pity motivated him. This woman seemed… separate—different—somehow, and a part of him wished to remedy the situation. The less altruistic side of him thought it an innocent enough excuse to touch her.
“Me? Teach you to dance? You have an unusual gift for the absurd.” He couldn’t quite make out her expression, and her eyes remained in shadow.
His gut clenched. Perhaps she was a fairy of some sort, after all. Not of this world. He’d never met such a creature as she seemed.
And just as quickly, he dismissed such nonsensical speculation.
Gabriel gestured toward the rather large gazebo. “We have the perfect dance floor right here, with no one watching to witness my ineptness. Perhaps I’ve simply needed a mysterious lady to encourage my natural prowess.” Gabriel enjoyed flirtation and was not one to overlook the opportunity to hold a lovely lady in his arms.
“This sounds suspiciously like a line you’ve used on other ladies.”
