Page 31 of A Story of Love

“You are a student of human nature, Miss Fontenot?”

“I find people interesting—more interesting than anything else, in fact.”

“Hmmph.”

“Don’t you?”

“Some people are interesting but the vast majority of them are either annoying or boring.”

She laughed. “Which category does Lord Moreland fall into?”

***

Miss Fontenot was persistent, Fast would give her that.

She had not asked the question he’d expected, either. Which was which category she fell into. At least that was the sort of vapid flirtation he was used to at ton functions.

But once again Miss Fontenot did the unexpected.

“Moreland falls into a category all his own,” he said, and then knew the moment he’d said the words it was a mistake. If the woman had possessed antennae, his statement would have sent them twitching.

“What category is that?”

“He is my oldest friend.”

“Oh.” Her obvious disappointment at his prosaic answer was almost comical. But she rallied quickly. “I noticed you didn’t say closest or best friend.”

“Didn’t I? Perhaps that’s because I’ve been away so long that I can no longer claim that status with him, or anyone else in England.”

Again, she looked thwarted.

And again, she rapidly came about. “Lord Moreland does not look at you that way.”

“No? How is he looking at me?”

She took her time before answering. “He looks like a man who has opened a door to a room he believed was empty, only to find it occupied. Whether he’s happy or vexed by the contents of the room, I cannot say.”

Fast thought she’d hit the nail precisely on the head.

Miss Fontenot sighed. “Or perhaps I’m just being fanciful.” She lowered her gaze until it was somewhere in the neighborhood of the top button on his coat, making him realize that her neck must have been craned at an uncomfortable angle. He’d not thought her especially short until that moment. But from this angle he could see the pins that had been shoved into her thick blue-black hair pell-mell.

Why did he find that so…endearing?

“—upon the mutineers?”

The word mutineers was like being doused with cold water.

“What?” he asked rudely.

“I asked how you’d come upon the mutineers? After all, the place they’d run aground is said to be exceedingly remote.”

Fast stared down at her, darkly amused when her cheeks flushed under his gaze. “Am I dreaming? Did I somehow mention mutineers and don’t remember it?”

“Are you denying that you rescued at least one survivor from the Sea Ranger?”

“Where did you hear such a thing? Parker?”

“I cannot reveal my sources.” Her prim, smug tone made him want to turn her over his knee and spank the truth out of her.