“Take your time,” Brandt said before retreating.
“Actually, Bastin, we’re leaving right now.” Hudsyn stood up abruptly. “I must get my cousin back before my mother returns from her excursion into town. She’ll be furious if she finds out we left the house without a chaperone. She insists on holding onto her belief Miss Hamilton will acquiesce and marry before she is relegated a permanent spinster by society.”
“Stop it, Henry!” Miss Hamilton sprang to her feet and flicked her cousin lightly on the shoulder.
“Why don’t you marry her, Hudsyn?” Jack teased. “It will solve the problem, won’t it?”
“I can assure you, Mr. Bastin, my aunt has bigger plans for Lord Hudsyn than his wayward cousin. Besides, I’d have to fight off legions of women.” She cupped Henry’s jaw in her gloved hand. “Look at those crystal blue eyes, sculpted cheekbones, and that gorgeous cleft chin. Simply divine.”
Henry laughed and twisted his chin out of Ottilie’s grasp. “All true. But don’t forget the most important point—I am only three-and-twenty and intend to remain a bachelor for at least ten more years.”
“Wise choice, young man.” Jack slapped Hudsyn on the shoulder and turned to address Ottilie. “Miss Hamilton, I am certain your aunt will be successful on your behalf. I have no doubt your beauty will capture many hearts.”
She grimaced. “Rest assured, Mr. Bastin, I have no intention of giving up a life of independence for marriage, no matter what my aunt desires.”
“You are a woman who knows what she wants. And that is admirable,” Jack said.
“Do you know, cousin—” Hudsyn stepped closer to Miss Hamilton—“after the fiasco last night, Mr. Bastin swore to devote himself to his writing and nothing else?”
“Now that is something to be admired,” Ottilie said.
Jack heeded the warning in Hudsyn’s voice and took a step back. “It’s true.” He held up his hands, feigning an innocence he did not feel. “I plan to devote myself to my writing—for at least the next—” He paused to think.
“Three months,” Hudsyn interjected.
Jack cocked his head. “Do I hear a challenge, Hudsyn? Shall we see which one of us breaks first?”
“Certainly.” Hudsyn extended his hand, and Jack shook it firmly.
Miss Hamilton lowered her lashes and directed her smile to the floor.
Jack caught a glimpse of the dimples in each of her cheeks and thought how much he’d like to kiss them.
Chapter Four
O Pleasure! you are indeed a pleasantthing,
Although one must be damn’d for you, nodoubt:
—Byron,“Don Juan”, Canto1
“That certainly provedinteresting,” Ottilie said as she and Henry walked home to Berkeley Square from Mr. Bastin’s residence on Half Moon Street. “Is that Brandt fellow truly Mr. Bastin’s valet?”
Henry shrugged. “Bastin claims he is, but I believe Brandt is more a friend than a valet. I don’t know. Perhaps it’s the way they do things in America.”
“Fascinating,” Ottilie said. “I can see why you’ve chosen Mr. Bastin as your friend. He is an odd combination of talent, charm, and intrigue.”
“Don’t be sucked in by Bastin’s charms,” her cousin warned. “He is a wonderful friend, but he would make a terrible husband.”
“Really, Henry! Do you take me for a silly little girl? It might do you good to remember I’m three years your senior.”
“It’s only that I’ve witnessed first-hand the effect Bastin has on women, and you are wearing the look.”
“What look?”
“The dreamy look of a woman smitten.”
Ottilie scoffed. “I admit finding the man interesting, but I am far from smitten.” Warmth spread across her cheeks, and she turned her face to prevent Henry from seeing her embarrassment. She didn’t want him to guess her thoughts—to know her mind had been intermittently wandering to the image of Mr. Bastin’s defined, muscular torso. Or that, when she closed her eyes, she traced and retraced his scar in her mind, wondering at its history. Her cheeks grew warm again, and she feigned interest in the pedestrians on Curzon Street.
