“Or at the very least, a fist in his face,” Cross added, unhelpfully, in Johnathan’s opinion.
“I’m certain she’ll reveal herself eventually. It’s not as if it would be unpleasant to become the Countess of Melrose. A lady might do a great deal worse than you, my lord.” Juliet Templeton shot a pointed look at Cross. “A great deal worse.”
“Yes, why not give the lady a chance to manage this her own way?” Emmeline Templeton had taken up a blue velvet pillow, and was tugging at the tassels, pulling bits out, one by one. “I can’t think it’s necessary for you to go to such lengths to hunt her down, my lord.”
Hunt her down? What an odd choice of words. “Time is a matter of some importance here, Miss Templeton.”
Juliet frowned. “Why is that, my lord?”
“Because the ton is sure to find out who she is,” Cross said. “This is just the sort of scandal to set every tongue in London wagging, and don’t forget the ton wanted a match between Melrose and Lady Christine Dingley. Someone must be punished for disrupting it.”
“Disrupting it?” Lady Fosberry’s gaze sharpened. “Do you mean to say, Lord Melrose, that you intend to marry the Lady in Lavender?”
Johnathan stiffened. “I’m not in the habit of ruining young ladies’ reputations, my lady. I think you know me well enough to know that.”
“Of course you’re not. You’ve never been a debaucher, Melrose. Indeed, this is all so out of character for you, I hardly know what to make of it, but then people are terribly unpredictable, aren’t they, Emmeline?”
Miss Templeton—Emmeline—let out a choked sound, and Johnathan found his unwilling gaze drawn back to her. For an instant he sat there stupidly, staring at her in silence.
She noticed his perusal, and another wave of color washed over her cheeks.
It suited her, that flush, as did the touch of pink in her cheeks from the sun.
She’d been outdoors when they arrived, mucking about in the dirt, by the looks of it. Perhaps she was a gardener, but not the sort of gardener who confined herself to wandering about the gardens with a parasol, sniffing the blooms and striving to look picturesque.
She wasn’t a thing like the ladies Johnathan was accustomed to. She didn’t seem to care one whit for fashion, and there wasn’t a bit of flirt or simper to her. He wasn’t sure what to make of her, but there was something about her face that caught his attention.
That dainty, pointed chin—
“The ton won’t stop until they’ve discovered who she is,” Cross was saying. “It will be far better for the lady if Lord Melrose discovers her identity before they do.”
“Yes, you’re quite right, of course.” Lady Fosberry tapped her lip, thinking. “I can come up with a list of names for you, my lord, but it would be tremendously helpful if you could tell me anything about the lady other than the color of her gown.”
“The color of the lady’s gown according to Lord Cudworth,” Cross muttered. “Cudworth, of all people, who couldn’t properly identify a lavender gown if he were wearing one himself.”
Lady Fosberry chuckled. “I can’t disagree with you there, Lord Cross, but that only makes this more difficult. There must be something else, Lord Melrose.”
Johnathan fingered the violet ribbon in his pocket, but for reasons he didn’t care to examine, he wanted to keep it to himself. Fool that he was, he was possessive of the blasted ribbon, protective of it.
He’d take it to one of the perfumers, instead, and find out which scent it was. Perhaps they could be persuaded to tell him which ladies had purchased that scent recently, and he could compare their names to the young ladies on Lady Fosberry’s guest list.
“Lord Melrose? Do you know the color of her hair, or her eyes?”
“I’m afraid not, my lady. The library was too dark for me to distinguish her features, and she never spoke a word.”
“It sounds like quite a strange encounter, my lord,” Juliet Templeton murmured.
It did, but the strangest thing about it was that it hadn’t been strange at all. Her warm lips, her long fingers sifting through his hair…the rightness of it had been dizzying. “I’d know her at once if I kissed her again,” Johnathan said, without thinking.
“For God’s sake, Melrose.”
Cross frowned, but Juliet Templeton let out a delighted laugh. “Bravo, my lord. That’s the first thing you’ve said that moves me in your favor. But of course, Lord Cross is right. You can hardly go about kissing every young lady in London.”
“No, and it’s a great pity, as it would be tremendously exciting if you did.” Lady Fosberry chortled. “You’ll call on us tomorrow, Lord Melrose? I’ll look over my guest list this afternoon, and should have something to report then. I can’t promise it will be helpful, but I’ll do my best.”
Johnathan dragged his attention from Emmeline Templeton’s fetching blush to Lady Fosberry. “Yes. Thank you. You’re very good to help me, my lady.”
“Well, well, you’ve always been one of my favorites, Melrose, and it is kind of you to entertain us all with this business with the Lady in Lavender.” Lady Fosberry gave him a mischievous smile. “After all, there’s nothing worse than a dull season.”
