“Come, Monsieur Marchand is waiting with the young gentleman, Monsieur St. Clair. May I get you some tea?”
“Non, merci,” I told her as she led us down a well-lit corridor with framed drawings of their combined designs. Some of them had even been featured inAckermann’s Repository,a popular, fashionable monthly magazine.
“How is your maman?” she asked. “I haven’t seen her since the start of the season, though her order was very large. Such a stylish woman!”
“Mama is well, quite busy as you know,” I said, stiffening instantly at the thought of the duchess finding out that I was here commissioning clothing for a strange boy, but it was unlikely she would return to Marchand’s anytime soon. The expenses would be put on Ansel’s account, which was managed by my father’s solicitor. I knew my cousin would not care.
“We were delighted to get the letter from Lord Ansel about his friend, a young nobleman from Paris,” Madame Marchand said. “It’s truly generous and wonderful that your family is taking him under your wing.”
I felt Anna’s curious gaze flick to me as she overheard that, but I only nodded. “My cousin has close friends all over the world.”
Ansel’s letter, ergomyletter, had instructed Monsieur Marchand to outfit our dear family friend with no expensespared, which I’m sure haddelightedthe couple very much. To make sure that my parents would not be contacted to confirm the instructions in the letter and ensure it wasn’t a fraudulent one, I had made an appointment to be here, to shore up the ruse.
The story I had concocted to support Tarik’s position in thetonwas that he was the son of a rich French businessman and was wrapping up his education at Cambridge. A wealthy backstory shored up by a connection to the Duke of Delmont would give him added legitimacy; not that his own humble origins weren’t enough, but aristocrats were a privileged and exclusive bunch. They would not give Tarik the time of day if they didn’t believe he came fromsomewhereof note. The nephew of a former university Fellow turned Parisian gaming den owner did not quite have the same ring to it as a French magnate. The only things aristocrats loved more than titles was money.
And I would be sure to confirm that Tarik possessed an obscene amount of it.
We hustled into the storefront where Madame Marchand’s husband and my tutor, who struggled to keep his face neutral, were waiting. While the husband-and-wife pair put their heads together with their staff, consulting magazines and pulling out various lengths of fabrics, I walked over to where Tarik stood. Outside of his university gown and plain garments, the quality of his clothing was unremarkable, though in relatively respectable condition. They would not pass muster in our circles, however, which was the reason behind a completely new wardrobe for the rest of the season.
He needed to benoticed.
Approaching him where he stood looking out the large baywindow to the crowded street beyond, I coughed delicately into my gloved fist. He glanced over his shoulder, turned, and stood stock-still. My entire body froze, along with everything around me, as my senses narrowed down to one single thing.Him.
Those lapis lazuli eyes met mine, and I sucked in an inaudible gasp when they stared at me with an electric intensity I hadn’t felt before. And Iwasn’timagining things—the heat of them seared into my skin as they took in the long dark hair that tumbled in inky skeins over my shoulders and nearly to my waist, the excellent cut of the ruffled pale-green-and-cream dress, from its puffed sleeves all the way down to the tips of my polished walking boots, and then back up again to my pristine white gloves, beaded reticule, bodice, and face.
They settled on my eyes and lips, studying my features with a familiar scrutiny that made flames ignite beneath my skin. Surely, it wasn’t polite to stare so long, but I was also willing to wager that what had felt like hours had been merely seconds.
Would he recognize me?
“Lady Rosalin, I presume?” he said softly so that the owners of the shop did not hear. We were skipping past formalities for the sake of time, especially since we required everyone else to think we had already been introduced by Ansel.
Since we were both unwed, Anna remained demurely a few feet away as chaperone, which did not put us in indecent territory. I nearly snorted—I’d been with said gentleman behind closed doorsalone.Not that he or anyone here knew that. I’m certain that if Ansel had thought twice about what such a deception entailed, he would have said an emphatic no. Thankgoodness boys were not used to thinking about all the rules that unmarried girls my age faced.
“Mr. St. Clair,” I said equally softly. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you. My cousin has spoken quite highly of you.”
“Has he?” he asked with a slight raise of his brows. He looked so incredulous that I wanted to laugh.
“Did you expect him to say something untoward?” I asked. “Ansel can be hard to read at times, and often comes across as arrogant, but when he speaks well of a person, it is usually genuine. What did he tell you about me?”
“That you’re very intelligent,” he replied. “He did not, however, say that you would be…so comely as well.”
With that one sentence, every bone in my body melted. “You flatter me, sir. My cousin and I look tremendously alike.”
“He is annoyingly handsome,” Tarik agreed as he bent over my hand and lifted my gloved knuckles to his mouth. My eyes widened. Where had he learnedthat? Not that I would have seen Tarik St. Clair in any social setting where he would be greeting a lady of my station. Everyone at Trinity was male. I caught my breath as the heat of his lips seared through the soft fabric, and I pinned my lips together so no sound could escape. He glanced up, those eyes crashing into mine again, mischief in them. “Though I dare say, you’re a much lovelier sight than he is.”
My cheeks flamed as he stood at his full height, a few inches above me. I kept my voice low. “Thank you, but you don’t have to oversell it. I’ve already agreed to help the two of you with your nefarious plans.”
His expression grew serious. “Are you certain, my lady? I donot wish to cause you any unnecessary strife. Your cousin was simply trying to help me gain a foothold—”
I lifted a palm between us. “I’m aware of why we are here. We can discuss when there aren’t so many ears listening, if that suits you. For now, we have a long and tiring afternoon ahead of us.” I pursed my lips and nodded toward the tailor and his wife. “For you, rather.”
“Thank you for doing this, truly,” he said. “May I interest you in a stroll to the park after I am finished? I would welcome the chance to get to know you better. Your cousin has told me of your interest in astronomy.”
I glanced up at him with a smile. “If you can manage to walk properly at that point, Mr. St. Clair, I would be delighted to accompany you.”
His extraordinary eyes bulged comically, but I only laughed.
Several hours later, most of which I spent reading, the Marchands had declared they were finished with measurements. Biting back my giggles at Tarik’s exaggerated movements, I watched as he rolled his shoulders and pretended to check his arms for injury.
