“I feel like a human pincushion,” he grumbled as we stretched our legs, walking through the neighboring Hyde Park. The ever-vigilant Anna followed us at a discreet distance.
Parasol in hand, I peered up at him, once more struck by the change in him. He wore a brand-new suit that Monsieur Marchand had on hand for a gentleman who had supposedly lost his entirefortune in a hand of cards at a gaming hell on the west side of London and was unable to pay his accounts. The tailor had deftly and expertly altered the suit to fit Tarik to perfection. He looked quite handsome and dapper.
It was truly shocking what a new set of elegant clothing did for a man, but considering I had never seen my tutor out of his academic gown or in any fancy clothes, it was no wonder that I was in a state of enchantment. With his height and lean figure coupled with his dark, wavy hair; rich brown complexion; and flashing eyes, he looked exactly like the wealthy member of the gentry we were portraying him to be.
The ladies would be swooning when he entered ballrooms, of that I had no doubt, and the younger set of gentlemen would be clamoring to know who he was and how to align themselves with him. Half the battle was confidence, and Tarik St. Clair had that in spades. I had no idea how a man born of humble origins could have such innate self-assurance, but he had never struck me as someone who was lacking in conviction.
It was still early, before most of the fashionable people came out to promenade on the paths through the park, so it wasn’t too crowded just yet. Not that I minded. Since part of the mission was to have Tarik be seen by influential people, it would be an easy start. At least before the Marquess of Ridley’s ball next week, where he would make his grand, official, splashy entrance into high society.
My companion made another noise of discomfort that dragged me out of my thoughts. He tugged at the silky folds ofhis cravat and ran his gloved fingers over the frock coat he wore. His little groans and his constant adjustments made me want to giggle.
“The fitting could not have beenthatbad, sir,” I said, keeping my mirth to myself. “The Marchands are professionals who have done this hundreds of times already this season. Trust me, anywhere else would have taken weeks or months. There’s a reason they are called the best. As it is, they will have coats, waistcoats, breeches, trousers, shirts, with all the accoutrements, and arrange for shoes, hats, and accessories delivered to you within the week.”
“Truly, I am grateful, but if I ever see another bolt of fabric, I might revolt. Does a man actually need a dozen waistcoats?”
“If he wants to be remembered, yes,” I said with a surreptitious sidelong glance at the embroidered cobalt-blue waistcoat he wore, which made his eyes blaze.
He snorted. “Looks are fleeting. I’d much rather be remembered for my character and my mind.”
I couldn’t help it anymore—I laughed. “Then you would be better off courting someone other than the aristocracy. Most of them are a bunch of strutting peacocks. Sure, there are a select few who understand that the measure of a man or woman goes far beyond their appearance, but for the majority, first impressions can seal a newcomer’s reception.”
“I suppose. Still, that doesn’t account for why a man must be poked and prodded for hours on end, simply to impress a few dandies.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ladies’ dress-fitting sessions take days; yours took only a few hours. Imagine how women must feel to achieve the standard of perfection we are held to.”
“I cannot conceive that it takes long for you,” he said. “To achieve perfection, I mean.” It took a moment before I realized that he was complimenting me again. Faltering, I sucked in a breath at the warmth in his eyes. Gracious, was heflirtingwith me? For a second, I’d forgotten that we weren’t in Cambridge, and I wasn’t garbed in my usual disguise.
No, I was in a dress, and I was a lady…and someone I truly esteemed was reciprocating my interest. I’d fantasized about such a scenario for so long that I almost did not know how to react or respond. I blushed daintily, and unlike the times at Trinity when I’d ducked to hide my pinkened cheeks, I let him see them. “You’re very kind, Mr. St. Clair.”
“Tarik, please, and I’m only being honest.”
“I could not address you by your given name, sir. It would not be proper.”
I could feel his smile, and it took everything in me not to stop and stare so I could memorize every inch of it. “Not even when we are alone like this?” he asked softly.
“We’re not alone, Mr. St. Clair. We’re surrounded by a few other people strolling in the park on this fine afternoon who are pretending not to notice us while cataloguing every step we take for dissection later. Not to mention, my lady’s maid, Anna, is right behind us.”
He glanced over his shoulder to where Anna was trailing us. “She’s very serious about her job.”
“Most chaperones have to be, lest a young woman’s virtue be snatched out from right under her nose and her reputation be forever tarnished.”
“In broad daylight?” he asked with some incredulity.
“You would be surprised at what some unscrupulous rogues might attempt to do to compromise a young heiress.” I pointed at a small copse of trees. “Last year, Lady Simone, the daughter of an earl, was escorted into that very glade by a fortune hunter who hoped to get her into a compromising position. He failed, thanks to her very vigilant chaperone. A few years ago, another young lady snuck off to Vauxhall with her beau, and they were forced to marry when discovered. The scandal was interminable.”
His expression was thoughtful. “I admit, I’ve never thought about the rules of your station and how they applied to the safety of young women until your cousin Lord Ansel and I discussed it. He was especially cross about the fact that women are not permitted to attend university and intimated that you would thrive there, given the chance. But I supposed I always assumed the rules were too rigid and prevented girls from having the same freedom or opportunities as boys.”
“They are, and they do,” I said. “But it’s the violence and ill will of some men that make them necessary, especially when a girl is out and about on her own. Society needs to change and hold the men accountable. As a matter of fact, one of my dearest friends had a boy lie about her past, and her entire reputation was ruined. Everyone believed that something untoward had happened between them and my friend was sent away to a girls’ seminary instead of coming out to high society as the daughterof an earl. Just like that, her life was finished. All because of one boy.”
“That is utterly appalling,” he said, horrified.
Pursing my lips, I nodded. “It was, but everything turned out all right in the end. It’s a long story, but she returned to London to reclaim her reputation and take back her rightful place in theton.” I smiled at him. “You’ll meet her, I hope. Her name is Lady Ela, and she’s married to a very influential young man in theton,the Marquess of Ridley. Win their support, and you’ll be guaranteed success.”
“It’s that easy, is it?” he asked.
“No, Mr. St. Clair. Nothing is ever easy, but as a very smart man said, ‘more is in vain when less will serve.’ ”
He stopped so suddenly that I’d walked a few steps more before realizing he was no longer at my side. I turned and nearly stumbled over my feet seeing the wide smile on his face. “You quoted Newton.”
