“Ah, and here is my beautiful daughter-in-law, the Duchess of Monmouth.” Genuine affection glowed in the dowager’s face as a statuesque brunette approached them. She was in a form fitting gown with a flared skirt and had thesecondpair of bluest eyes that Adam had ever seen.
“You’re her sister,” he blurted without context, and could have kicked himself for it when the duchess’s head tilted in confusion.
“Pardon?” she said, putting her gloved hand on Perth’s arm.
“I spoke out of turn. My apologies, Your Grace,” he said through gritted teeth as the knot wedged in the middle of his ribcage grew larger.
Had hereallythought that he’d be able to blend in here with the posh and the polished? If the dowager and her son were silver spoons, then he was a dull, rusty knife. A utensil so broken and bent that it was better to throw it out and buy a new blade than try to salvage what was left of the old.
What would this pretty, perfect family do if they learned he’d kissed one of their own against the filthy wall of a warehouse? Have him drawn and quartered, most likely. If there was anything the aristocracy cared about more than preserving their pristine lineage, he’d yet to find it. After all, wasn’t that why he was here? Because the Earl of Denbigh had rather cast his mother aside to raise their bastard on her own than acknowledge he had produced a child that wasn’t pure of blood.
“If you’ll pardon me–”
“Wait,” said the dowager with an imperious strike of her cane. “It has come to my attention that you will be joining us soon at Clarenmore Park, Mr. St. Clair.”
“The hell I am,” he scowled.
Bristling, Perth advanced a step. “Watch your tone when you’re speaking to my mother.”
“You’reMr. St. Clair?” said the duchess excitedly. “Oh, it’s so nice to finally meet you! I was hoping that you wouldn’t find the invitation I sent too presumptuous. I am glad to hear that you’ve accepted!”
“I’ve done nothing of the–”
“Oh no,” the duchess gasped, covering her mouth.
“What is it?” asked Perth, looking at his wife in concern.
“Eloise.” Her gaze passed around the group, lingering for half a second on Adam before landing helplessly on her husband. “We’ve forgotten Eloise!”
For what it wasworth, Eloise was having a grand time being forgotten. In the hour and a half since her family had unwittingly left her behind, she’d already divested herself of her shoes and stockings, eaten an entire platter of cinnamon biscuits stuffed with sweet cream, and was at the top of the stairs giving serious consideration to sliding along the bannister when the front door opened.
“Drats,” she mumbled, reluctantly swinging her leg off the railing. She’d known that Lenora would realize her mistake eventually, but couldn’t she have waited a little bit longer? Except when she went bouncing down the stairs and jerked to a surprised halt at the bottom, it wasn’t Lenora waiting for her. It was…
“You’re barefoot,” Adam said in his distinctly deep, gravelly, disapproving voice. “Why are you barefoot?”
“Why are youhere?” she asked, peering over his shoulder through the open doorway. There was a carriage, unfamiliar to her, waiting at the street. But no sign of Lenora, Annabel, or Bridget.
Just Adam St. Clair.
Standing in her foyer.
Scowling at her toes.
“It’s…complicated.” He raked his fingers through his hair, pulling impatiently at the ends. “Suffice it to say, I am to escort you to the Edgemont Museum. The Dowager Duchess of Monmouth was also meant to be here, but she took unexpectedly ill on the way and requested that I take her straight to her physician’s office.”
“No.” Walking to the nearest available seat, a rosewood parlor chair upholstered in gold velvet, Eloise plopped down and crossed her legs at the knee.
“No?” Adam furrowed his brow, appearing as confounded by the two-letter word as he would be by a poem written in ancient Greek. “I wasn’t asking a question.”
“That’s too bad, because I’ve given you my answer.” She smiled brightly. “Would you like a cinnamon biscuit? I think there’s one left. Well, maybe half of one. I was very hungry.”
He put his hands on his hips. His straight, lean hips that led to thick, muscular thighs–
No, Eloise.
Bad, Eloise.
No biscuit for you, Eloise.
