Chapter Fourteen
James felt his mouthdrop open, then he snapped it shut. “I never said her name,” he protested.
Payton grinned. “You did, after about five pints of beer and then a couple glasses of piss quick. With the blue ruin in you, you were ‘Miss Talbot this’ and ‘Miss Talbot that.’”
James felt his cheeks grow hot. Had he truly drunk so much gin in the pub that he’d spilled his guts in such an unchivalrous manner?Naming her!He was appalled at himself.
“Don’t look so horrified. It happens to each of us occasionally,” Payton said, trying to comfort him. “So the woman who tried to trap you in the parson’s noose has now caught your fancy. How rich!”
“Prinny said to keep her safe until her fiancé arrives.”
“But you want to tup her instead?” Payton quipped. The whole thing was a joke to him.
“No,” James said, belatedly determined to protect her. He never would have started the conversation had he known Payton knew his lovely torturer by name.
Payton chuckled again. “It makes me no matter, ol’ chum. Just don’t get in the middle of something and end up at the wrong end of her fiancé’s pistol.”
***
AT NOON THE DAY AFTERthe Castle Hotel assembly when the porter knocked upon her door to say she had a gentlemen caller, Glynnis quickly set a lightweight green hat upon her head, pinned it in two places, grabbed her gloves which she yanked on as she went down the stairs, and then stopped in her tracks.
“Hargrove!” She was thrilled and disappointed at the same time.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “I wondered if you were hungry or wanted to take a stroll.”
“I am,” she said, “and I do.”
How nice of him, but she’d been expecting if any man were to call upon her, it would be Lord Dodd to press his case.
“Let’s stop in the café first and then,” he paused, “perhaps walk all the way to the Royal Crescent. Have you seen the statue of Prinny?”
“I haven’t,” she told him. Suddenly, the day that would have been another dreary one filled with worry over money was, instead, filled with expectation.
After she made sure Hargrove was treating her to the nuncheon, she ordered the most expensive mince lamb pie on the menu and a pot of tea, as well as a rich cake and fruit trifle for dessert.
“So delicious,” she couldn’t help exclaiming. “Is that all you’re having?” Hargrove was eating like a single lady at a London dinner, trying to impress the gentlemen with her dainty appetite.
“I ate not too long ago,” he confessed, setting down his half-eaten wafer before idly sipping his coffee.
How strange!She paused with a spoonful of trifle topped with clotted cream halfway to her lips. “Then why did you invite me for something to eat?”
He smiled. “Because you’re always hungry, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but you...,” she trailed off, rendered speechless by his kindness. If Lord Hargrove wanted to buy her a meal, she wouldn’t protest. Sticking the spoon into her mouth, she enjoyed the remainder of her dessert. But the spark in his eyes was disconcerting. She could only hope she had no cream upon her lips.
After she swallowed, she asked, “Do you know anyone renting at the Royal Crescent?”
“Not renting, no, but I know someone who lives there. You may’ve been introduced to him the first night at the Pavilion. Lord Payton?”
