“Yes, thank you.” She studied her reflection in the mirror, aware of him watching her in the glass. “Do I look disheveled?”
“Only a little—as if you have enjoyed an energetic dance.” He smiled. “Only those who know you well might wonder what you’ve really been up to.”
“Then I should go home alone, because Allegra and Maude are here.”
“You can hardly leave your sister behind,” Julian objected.
Carenza wished she hadn’t attempted to make a joke and tried to match his nonchalance. “How practical you are.”
“It is my besetting sin.” He inclined his head, his attention on the fire. “I won’t approach you again this evening.”
“Oh.” Carenza, who had reached the door, paused. “As you wish. Good night, Julian.”
“Good night, Carenza.”
She opened the door and looked back at him, but he didn’t acknowledge her, which was slightly discouraging. He’d said he’d enjoyed kissing her—had he been telling the truth? He’d never been the kind of gentleman to mince words, and if she hadn’t performed to his satisfaction, surely he would have mentioned it?
Carenza stopped walking as she entered the main hall, took a steadying breath, and reminded herself that taking a lover was her choice and that if Julian didn’t wish to claim the honor, she would find someone who would.
“Lady Smythe-Harding.”
She looked up to see Lieutenant Greenwood bearing down on her, a determined expression on his face as he pointed at the hem of her gown. “Fixed your skirt?”
For a moment Carenza had no idea what he was talking about and then she nodded. “It’s fine now, sir. I do apologize for missing our dance.”
“No matter.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we go into supper together? If we hurry, we can be first in line. Lady Ross always offers an excellent supper table.”
“Yes, of course.” Carenza set her hand on his arm. “That would be delightful.”
CHAPTER5
Julian sat up in bed as Proctor, his valet, set a breakfast tray on his knees and proceeded to open the curtains. After receiving his unexpected inheritance, Julian had bought one of the new town houses springing up in the city and had enjoyed decorating it and choosing all the furniture without interference from his family. His mother had been offended both by his decision to leave the family home, which she insisted reflected badly on her, and Julian’s resolve not to ask for her help with any aspect of the house.
“It’s a beautiful morning, sir. What do you have planned?” Proctor asked as Julian sipped his coffee.
“I have some business to attend to in the East End and then I might take my phaeton out to the park this afternoon.”
Proctor made a face. “May I suggest one of your older coats for your morning activities, sir? Last time you came home from that place you were covered in jam and other unknown substances. It took me all day to restore your coat to a wearable condition.”
“Whatever you think best.” Julian grinned at him. “I trust your judgment implicitly, Proctor.”
“I always like to see you turned out well, sir.” His valet bowed. “Do you wish to have a bath this morning? Or should that wait until your return?”
“I’ll bathe when I return. That’ll wash off the jam.”
“And the other unmentionables.” Proctor shuddered and turned to leave. “I’m surprised you haven’t caught fleas.”
Julian ate his breakfast in a leisurely fashion and was just perusing the morning papers when his brother burst into the room.
“Morning, Julian.”
Julian lowered the newspaper. “Did you forget where you live again, Aragon? It’s deuced early to be disturbing a man.”
Aragon sat on the side of the bed and eyed the contents of Julian’s breakfast tray like a hopeful dog. “Anything left for me?”
Julian sighed and handed over the tray. “I was just about to get up, anyway.”
“No need to rush on my account,” his brother mumbled through a mouthful of toast. “I wrote that note to Lady Carenza. Took me hours. Had to ask the waiter at White’s how to spell her name properly.”
