Even if she was a nefarious smuggler, or aiding and abetting one.
It was such an inconvenient and yet quite educational realization that he, somehow resistantly, refused to cross the threshold into the room just yet.
“We’ve a new guest, as you can see.” She said this somewhat triumphantly.See, we have guests, Captain Hardy!
He glanced at the big young blond man. “Do you mean guest or captive?”
“Ha!” The young man brightened and his arms loosened a bit. He flicked a gaze over at Tristan, taking in the Hoby boots, the well-cut coat, the demeanor, making the kinds of judgments and drawing the kinds of conclusions that people all over England did.
“Oh, Captain Hardy, you are a card.” Delilah managed to make the entire sentence sound sweet, but the wordcardemerged through slightly gritted teeth. “I’d like to introduce Mr. Andrew Farraday, of Sussex, in London for a visit.”
Mr. Farraday sprang to his feet, radiating the sort of self-satisfaction and bonhomie that made Tristan feel about a thousand years old. He had a Grecian nose and a chin with corners like a box, and doubtless, whatever part of the country he was from, young ladies suffered scorching blushes whenever he was near.
He wondered if he’d been lured in right off the street by Mrs. Breedlove and Lady Derring and their pretty smiles.
Tristan accepted the large outstretched paw and shook it.
“Captain, is it? Don’t your sort, military blokes, usually stay at the Stevens Hotel? I’ve heard as such from a friend at White’s.”
It was a friendly, completely reasonable question.
Delilah swung her head toward Captain Hardy, her entire face a question. He wondered if it was hopeful:yes, do, Captain Hardy, go and join your own kind.
Mrs. Breedlove looked immensely curious, too.
“I like to be near the ship I’m intending to buy as I make preparations for travel, and I find the accommodations here to be tolerable.”
“Oh,tolerable,” Delilah repeated. “You’ll come to know, Mr. Farraday, that this is Captain Hardy’s way of gushing.”
“And the evenings in the drawing room are not to be missed,” Captain Hardy added. And after a beat added, “Literally.”
Having thoroughly confused young Mr. Farraday for no good reason, he settled in with his book.
A glass of brandy had already been poured for him. He had to admit, there was little to complain about so far concerning the accommodations at The Grand Palace on the Thames.
“I found my room quite comfortable and the view of the Thames stirring, Captain Hardy,” Farraday said, clearly gamely attempting to follow the rules regarding socializing. “The pillow was fluffy and the firemostwarm.”
“I’ve little use for fires that aren’t warm, myself,” Tristan said.
“Ha,” Mr. Farraday replied uncertainly.
“We’re so pleased you were comfortable, Mr. Farraday,” Angelique soothed.
Tristan opened his book.
“A captain, eh! That sounds very interesting. Have you seen battle?” Mr. Farraday tried.
Tristan looked up. He waited a beat, then gave a faint, patient smile. “Yes.”
He returned to his book.
“Have you ever been wounded?” Farraday continued, a moment later.
Tristan looked up. “Yes.”
He returned to his book.
Another moment of silence.
