“An I am truly glad to see you,” said Naomi, twinkling at him, “’tis because I am as gracious as you are odious. And you must not make a repulsive response, dear August, for Katrina has but now been vowing how much you love me.”
He raised one eyebrow and said dryly, “My sister has a soft area of the brain that tends to interfere with her occasional common sense.” He took the cup an amused Katrina handed him, and went on: “I believe in Ovid one may read that ‘love is a kind of warfare.’ Since I have no more use for the one than for the other, you may draw your own conclusions, Lady Lutonville. I trust you will not fall into a decline.”
“Alas,” moaned Naomi, throwing one hand to her brow despairingly. “All is lost! I must put a period to my wretched existence. Woe is me! Though, I guessed how t’would be.”
“Did you. I should like to know how you also guessed that I was coming up behind you just now. Am I allowed a scone?”
Katrina scolded that he did not deserve one. But Naomi chuckled and passed the plate, telling him that guessing had played no part in her remark. “Iknewyou were coming because the eyes of every woman in the room turned this way.”
“Do you mean to talk nonsense,” he said with disgust, “I shall leave you.”
She laughed. “You have only to look about you for confirmation of my ‘nonsense.’”
He had no need to do so. His riding habit of dark grey broadcloth might have been plain on another man but served only to accent the commanding height and perfect physique that were allied to features as handsome as his sister’s were beautiful. He had the same high and broad cheekbones and thin chiselled nose. Unlike Katrina’s, his complexion was inclined to be sallow, but the dark blue eyes were as brilliant and thickly lashed and had the same faintly alien slant. The resemblance ended there, however, for his lips were thinner, his flaring black brows and stubborn chin betrayed a tempestuous nature, and his expression was cold and forbidding. He had been on the Town since he was nineteen, and the ensuing ten years had made him quite aware of his power over the fair sex. He selected his paramours with care, often from the dancers of the Opera, and none lasted longer than six months. But for the more cultured ladies, whose flirtatious and admiring glances invariably followed him, he had only scorn.
“Do not tease him, dearest,” pleaded Katrina, passing her brother the jam pot. “You will put him out of humour.”
“Goodness me! Are youinhumour, August? You might have told me so.”
“You have the disposition of a shrew, my lady,” he riposted. “Do but continue along the same lines and you may yet win me.”
Both ladies laughed merrily. Naomi said, “No, Trina is right. I must not tease you, for truly I am very glad to see you both. So glad in fact, that I mean to kidnap you away to Collington and will hear no arguments, sirrah, so you had as lief say yes at once!”
“No. And do not be giving yourself airs. You may be the most talked-about heiress in London Town, but you’re still a grubby little brat to me! And your conversation when I came up just now, was improper in the extreme. Such a way to speak of your father!”
She sipped her tea, watching him over the brim of her cup, then said lightly, “Since you so admire him, you will want to come and see the great man.”
“Nothing of the kind,” he contradicted rudely, spreading strawberry jam with a lavish hand. “And I think the earl will thank us for not desecrating his doorstep.”
Naomi saw Katrina flinch at this, and said frowningly, “I think you have never been turned away from Collington.”
“So long as your father was profitably engaged with mine, no.” He glanced at her from under his lashes. “The great god Mammon can render anyone acceptable.”
“Now you are being horrid, August!”
“Aha! Then you believe he would approve an I asked for your hand?” His lip curled. “I wish I may see it! He would prefer even poor Rossiter, be damned if he wouldn’t! And much as you profess to adore me, my poppet, I find it unlikely you would be willing to be known as Mrs. Mandarin.”
Katrina gave a gasp and turned her face away.
Flushed with anger, Naomi flared, “I do not adore you, August Falcon! And heaven help the lady who loves you enough to spend the rest of her life enduring your nasty cynicism! But one might think that after all these years you would know me better than to think me guilty of such—such—”
“Such typical British aristocratic prejudices? Why not? You’re an Englishwoman and an aristocrat, and fairly brimming with hoity-toityness.”
Between her teeth she hissed, “An Ididlove you, wretched creature, nothing or no one would stop me from accepting your offer!”
“You may be grateful my girl,” he waved his scone at her, “that nothing would induce me to put your resolution to the test.”
“Beast!” exclaimed Naomi.
“No, but that is prodigious unkind, August,” said Katrina, troubled.
He smiled, and sketched a careless bow.
Naomi glared at him. “You are too provoking, August. You have made me cross, and I vowed I would not be so again today!”
“So much for resolution. Personally, I never make vows, then I am spared the anguish of breaking them. One always does, you know.”
Ignoring this confidence, she asked after a moment, “Why do you name him ‘poor’ Rossiter? Are you acquaint?”
