“These are just lovely,” she said wistfully, stroking a walking dress of cream silk with narrow, dark blue stripes. It would have made a perfectly fashionable man’s waistcoat, but was bold and unexpected as a dress.
“Lady Courtenay likes to look her best,” said Solly fondly.
Joan sighed and handed over the walking dress. She also wanted to look her best. No, she wanted to looklovely, which might be, she feared, better than was possible. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and tried to see any potential. She was still tall, still plump, and her hair was still straight and brown, suitable only for binding up in braids or torturing into ringlets with a hot iron. But then again ... Evangeline was almost as tall, and just as plump. So far she hadn’t worn a single ringlet. And while her clothing obviously hadn’t come from the latest pages of Ackermann’s, it nonetheless made her look ravishing instead of umbrella-like. Perhaps there was hope.
Solly was putting away the hatboxes. “Do you wish to see, miss? You will like this one, I think.” She opened one of the boxes.
Joan lifted it out. As bonnets went, it was on the plain side, and not as unconventional as she’d expected. She held it above her head, trying to get an idea of how it would look on her. The current mode in bonnets invariably made her look like a giantess.
“Try it,” murmured Solly. “She will not mind.”
Joan hesitated, then smiled broadly. “Just for a moment,” she agreed, and rushed to sit at the dressing table. She put on the bonnet, and turned her head from side to side. The crown was softer, not as high as was fashionable; the brim was wider and not so peaked. The only plume on it curled around the crown, adding no height at all. And best of all, it didn’t make her face look round. A pleased smile touched her lips. Yes, there was definitely hope.
There was a light tap at the door. “You’ve a caller, Miss Bennet,” said Smythe.
Admiring herself in Evangeline’s bonnet, Joan barely glanced at the butler. “Yes? Who is it?”
“Viscount Burke.”
She nearly sent the hatpin into her scalp. “Who?”
“Lord Burke.” He held out the silver tray to prove it with the plain calling card. Joan gazed at it in alarm. What the devil could he want?
“Shall I tell him you are not in?” inquired Smythe after a long moment.
“Ah ...” She set the bonnet back in its box. “No, I’ll see him.”
She told herself it was just curiosity that drove her. It had been five days since The Kiss, after all. As much as she wanted to deny it, Joan had wondered, with a bit of nervous hope, if he might call on her. If perhaps he’d found the kiss just a little more than the means to silence her for a moment. If, by some rare chance, he had been as struck by it as she had been.
From his absolute absence, she had concluded he had not, the cursed libertine.
And yet, today he was here in her drawing room. In the corridor she took a quick look in a nearby mirror. Nothing on her face; her teeth were clean; and her hair lay flat, thankfully. Lifting her chin and hoping a cool composure would hide the sudden thumping of her heart, she went into the drawing room.
“Good day, Lord Burke.” She made the barest curtsy.
He was standing on the other side of the room, staring out the window, and whipped around at her greeting. For a moment he seemed frozen, staring at her with an expression perilously close to a glare before bowing. “Miss Bennet.” There was a long pause. “I want to offer my most sincere wishes for Lady Bennet’s full recovery.”
“Thank you.” He’d come to say that? Joan waited, but he merely stood there looking at her, far too attractive for her peace of mind. “Have you brought a message from Douglas?” she asked at last.
His mouth tightened. “Of a sort. He didn’t send you a note, then.”
“No, why would he? I understood he was to leave for Norfolk—in fact, I thought he already had. I can’t think what he would have needed to say to me before he left.”
Lord Burke closed his eyes for a moment, as though reining in his temper.
“Is something wrong with Douglas?” she asked, perplexed beyond measure by this visit.
“I am here to offer my escort,” he said shortly. “If you wish to go out.”
Joan’s jaw dropped. “Escort!”
“At your brother’s behest,” he added. “Bennet feared you’d sit at home alone in your parents’ absence.”
Douglas?Douglashad sent him to squire her about? He was only here as a favor to her brother?
Joan drew a furious breath. How dare Douglas send his reprobate friend to dog her heels around town? And how dare Lord Boor agree to it, after the way she had made clear her dislike of him and his manners? She would show them both, she would ... she would ... A fiendish thought hit her, and instead of lashing out at Lord Burke, she smiled. Sweetly. She would teach them both a lesson, and have a cracking good time doing it. “Did he? How very solicitous and thoughtful of him! And how very kind of you to devote so much time to my amusement.”
He had obviously expected a different reply. His vivid green eyes seemed to stare right through her. “Yes, it was very benevolent of me, wasn’t it?”
