“Not yet,” drawled Falcon. “I would purely dislike to deprive our dauntless Reginald of that pleasure.”
A laugh went up, and people glanced about for the “dauntless” Reginald. Mr. Smythe’s sense of self-preservation was strong, however, and he had already slipped quietly away.
Naomi’s admirers closed in around her, pleading for the next dance.
Katrina took her brother’s arm. “Why are you come?” she asked softly. “I’d thought you already laid down upon your bed. You have not really come to cuffs with Gideon Rossiter?”
The words hissing through a set smile, Falcon answered, “Come to cuffs with him, Trina? Why ever should I be so restrained? ’Tis my firm intention to run him through. Sixty-nine times!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Katrina Falcon had never been one to lie abed in the mornings, and although she had retired very late the previous night, she was up and dressed by ten o’clock. She went straight to Naomi’s bedchamber. Her friend was sitting at the dressing table wearing a most fetching wrapper of pale orange satin trimmed with ecru lace. She presented a charming picture, but she was scowling at her reflection, and meeting Katrina’s eyes in the mirror, said gloomily, “He is ready for Bedlam, is what it is!”
Stifling a smile, Katrina sat on the bed. “Captain Rossiter? From what you told me last night, I would have to agree. I still can scarce believe you had such a narrow escape. You are so brave, dearest. It purely astounds me that you managed to come to the ball as if nought had happened, after that horrid man almost caused you to be killed!”
At once reversing her stand, Naomi said hotly, “He saved my life! He has always been absolutely terrified of heights. He fears that dreadful hill, but he found the courage to run down it so as to pull me from the coach, and—” Her impassioned words ceased. Blushing, she added hurriedly, “And he is treacherous and deceitful.”
“And treated you roughly when first you met.”
“He did.” Naomi took the lily-of-the-valley corsage from the little vase on her dressing table, and stroked a leaf absently.
Troubled, Katrina said, “Worst of all, he behaved disgracefully to his poorchère amiein Holland.”
“Yes,” whispered Naomi, flinching a little. “I could never forgive him for that. Never!”
“No lady could. So ’tis of little moment that the man has gone demented, as indeed he must have done, to make such awful accusations ’gainst Lord Collington.”
Naomi said nothing.
Standing, Katrina walked to the window and looked out at the misted garden. “How very fortunate, love,” she said, “that you are no longer betrothed. Now that wouldreallybe a mare’s nest.”
“Yes.”
“If you had cared for him, I mean.”
“Oh.”
Katrina turned and looked at her friend’s rather wilting figure thoughtfully.
Naomi stared at the flowers in her hand for a long moment, then dropped them into the wastepaper basket beside the dressing table. “I think—” she began, then stopped speaking, startled by a wild outburst of barking, some assorted shouts, and a crash.
“Oh, dear,” muttered Katrina, hurrying to the door. “Apollo! If he wakens August…!”
She went quickly down the stairs and found Lieutenant James Morris pressed against the wall in the entrance hall while two lackeys strove to hold the ravening hound that leapt and strained to come at him. Katrina paused, frowning, and was about to retrace her steps when she saw that the lieutenant held a bloodied handkerchief to his wrist. Dismayed, she told the lackeys to put Apollo in the side garden.
“Did he bite you, sir?” she asked. “Indeed, I am most sorry for it. He is an ill-tempered animal. Pray let me see.”
Morris’ wrath melted away as he gazed on this beauteous creature. Her gentle hands were moving his handkerchief aside. He could catch the sweet scent of her, and trembling to her touch, he watched her, and hoarded the seconds.
“Oh, dear!” sighed Katrina. “He did tear the skin a little, and ’twill bruise I fear.”
“Mmm…” he murmured dreamily.
She glanced up. He was smiling at her with such patent adoration that she could not but be amused. She took his arm and led him firmly to the kitchen, where neat maids hastened to bring bowls of hot water and cloths for the relief of the wounded. Had Morris been aware of all the eyelashes fluttering at him, he would have retreated in horror, but he had eyes for only one lady. Katrina saw, however, and their admiration caused her to look at the lieutenant again. He really was quite a well-favoured young man. And, la, but he was bashful, his face reddening when his eyes met hers, and his glance falling away. She rather liked shyness in a gentleman. She washed the wound with strong soap, which made him gasp, then sprinkled it with basilicum powder and bound it up quite proficiently, asking if it felt a little better now.
“G-good as new,” stammered Morris. “Your hands are so—” He saw the Chef frowning at him, and floundered. “So—er— Not like a real nurse, ma’am. Oh, egad! Wh-what I mean is—”
Katrina hid a smile. “You have had much experience of nurses, I understand.”
