But too many stolen kisses can ruin a gals reputation as fast as a fart. I suppose I cant say that, either. This is London now, not the country, where everyone knows you and accepts a bit of hoydenish behavior. Both of you have to watch your steps here, where every action is scrutinized and dissected, looking for scandal. No kissing, do you hear?
Corie looked around, afraid Dobbson would hear from the butlers pantry near the front door.
I am not Susanna. And you must know your sister is not fastshe is just young and experimenting. Ive had less than a handful of kisses since Lieutenant Snelling, discounting a few under the mistletoe, in public. For once and for all, I am not a trollop.
I could tell. You do not kiss like an experienced woman.
Instead of being reassured by his agreement, Corie was annoyed at his words, the same way Daniels pride had been pricked. Her brow puckered into furrows. I do not kiss right? You said it was nice. Did you lie?
I never lie. That is, seldom. It was a lovely kiss. For a novice.
Oh. Corie could not decide whether to be pleased Stamfield finally accepted her innocence, or to be irritated he found her less desirable than his demireps.
She gathered the hairpins on the table into a neater pile, missing the twinkle in his eye when he said, Perhaps I caught you by surprise. That must be it.
Yes, I was surprised. I never thought you would. That is, I did not think you liked me or found me the least attractive.
To prove her wrong, he had to kiss her again.
She kept her mouth closed, her back rigid, instead of going all soft and warm in his arms. He stepped back.
This time she did slap him. I am not a whore!
The slap only reinforced what he already knew. He shook his head, as if that might get his brain working again. Zeus, I should not be doing this.
I am a lady.
He nodded. Right. My mothers goddaughter. My sisters bosom bow. A guest in my house. It will not happen again.
It better not. She gripped one of the hairpins like a weapon.
I had a shade too much to drink, dont you know.
No, I cannot imagine anyone drinking a dent in his honor. Saying you are in your cups is merely an excuse for immoral behavior. She shoved her feet into her slippers and stood up. You really are no gentleman. I was right to consider you a cad, and a drunk, too.
Oh, Id have kissed you stone sober.
She pretended not to see his smile. You are reprehensible.
I told my mother I was. Somehow his mood was brightened just knowing Miss Abbott wasnt a flirt. In fact, he was downright cheerful shed proved virtuous. I wish you could convince my mother of that, so she releases me back to my life of decadence and debauchery. Then you can go husband hunting in peace.
She sat down again, knowing she had to lace the ribbons on her shoes or shed trip instead of making a grand exit. Is it so wrong to look for a match?
Daniel went to add more coals to the fire. Ask the fox how he feels with a pack of slavering dogs chasing after him.
If hes been raiding the henhouse, Reynard has no one to blame but himself.
But what if hes been minding his foxish business, smelling the flowers, digging a nice little burrow for himself?
Then hed be lonely. And dirty and hungry. I do feel sorry for the poor fox, of course, but the London Season is not a blood sport. Gentlemen can always get away.
Thats how much you know. You havent met a determined mama yet, one of those who is ready to arrange a compromising situation just to trap a match for her homely daughter.
But women are not the only pursuers.
Daniel wiped his hands on his fathers trousers. No, there are fortune hunters aplenty who need to line their pockets with a substantial dowry. Im not saying thats right, either. Some chaps dont need the blunt; they need to fill their nurseries, to ensure their successions.
They need a broodmare, in other words.
He shrugged. If not for the money or the heirs, Id wager, few men would marry.
One slipper was tied, without showing too much of her ankle. She looked up. You do not believe in love?
Of course I do. Ive seen it in Rex and Harry, havent I? Moonstruck, both of them. They were lucky, thats all.
Corie thought about how lucky their wives were. She sighed. A woman has fewer choices. Its not like I can study for the law or the church, or go into trade. Marriage is my only option. I cannot return to my fathers house.
What if you cant find a man to love?
I shall still wed if I receive an honorable proposal, and hope for love to follow. If no respectable man offers for me this Season, Ill sell my jewelry, my pearls and a diamond set from my mother. Ill live on that until I find a suitor, or a position as a ladys companion.
Without references?
Your mother could write me recommendations. She might know of a post for me with one of her friends.
My mother would pay someone to wed you, rather than see you go into service. That is no life for a lady. Youd be miserable.
She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. Then what do you suggest I become? A courtesan?
Youd have no lack of offers. He held up his hand before the prickly female could take affront again, or cry. No insult intended. But dont worry; plenty of swells with good intentions will be interested. Id make book on that.
She sighed again. Until they hear about Snelling.
He bent down to take her foot in his hand to tie the ribbons around her ankle. They wont hear of it from me. I will forget about Snelling.
And well forget this night ever happened.
He couldnt forget.
She shouldnt forget.
Dobbson sure as hell wouldnt forget.
Ahem. Your horse is waiting, Mr. Stamfield. The butler was staring at the wall over their heads, at a painting of some Greek gods cavorting. His lip was curled, as if hed found Daniel and Corie cavorting.
I was, ah, bidding Miss Abbott good night.
Dobbsons gaze slid to the floor, where Daniel was kneeling, one of Miss Abbotts delicate feet in his hands. Then he looked at Daniels cheeks, which were red from the slap, and red from the lies.
Daniel rubbed at the back of his neck. I suppose I had too many strawberries at dinner. They always make my skin erupt, dont you know.
Me, too, Corie said, to explain her own suddenly scarlet complexion.
Dobbson offered to tell Cook to leave strawberries off the menu from now on. Not that he recalled a single one at the table.
No, no, Daniel said, I love them. Ill just eat less next time.
Dobbson looked at the nearby brandy decanter, then at Miss Abbotts trailing hair. Restraint would be advisable.
Quite. Ill be on my way, then. Daniel turned to salute her hand. She was too busy picking up more hairpins to offer it.
She did say, Good night, Mr. Stamfield. Thank you for the advice about London. I am sure it will be valuable.
Im sure it will, Dobbson murmured.
The butlers hand went out when they reached the front door. This time there was no mistake. Daniel placed a silver coin in it.
A bit more valuable than that, Id say.
A gold coin found its way from Daniels pocket to Dobbsons. You will not say a word to anyone, not my mother, not the servants, not at the pubs where other butlers gather and gossip about their employers.
Speak about my betters? Never.
Oddly enough, Daniel felt no telltale itch. Most likely the powdered prig did not think anyone was better than him. Nothing happened.
Dobbson peered at him by the light of the dim lamp in the hallway. Did you just have more strawberries?
The lady was relaxing, damn it, her shoes off and hair down, when I stepped into the parlor. I thought my mother might still be making lists and plans. I merely passed a few pleasantries with Miss Abbott.
And very pleasant they must have been. Somehow he had Cories lace gloves in his hand.
Daniel took one menacing step in Dobbsons direction, snatched the gloves away, and shook his fist under the mans chin. Dash it, nothing happened!
Quite right. What would happen, between a gentleman and his mothers houseguest?
Nothing. Not ever.
And now Daniels feet itched at his own lie.
Chapter Eight
D
aniel could not forget, not even with a bottle or two of McCanns finest at his table. He couldnt go up to his former rooms to consider that kiss, those words, that other kiss. Not that he was a man much given to cogitation about females, feelings, or his own future, but Miss White might have some good advice.
Miss White, however, was ensconced as queen of the kitchen, and not moving. Daniels rooms had been reallocated to a Harrison cousin who was going to earn his rent by keeping the establishments books. What went unspoken by Harrison, the manager, was that Daniel did nothing for the club but add a mite to the houses gambling bank. Daniels things got packed and carried out, the manager reported, by three servants from Royce House and two helpful footmen from the club. Most likely while Daniel was at dinner, pleading his case to at least sleep at McCanns.
He was right about the gaming establishment being a better place for him, for all it mattered to his mother. He did not belong at the earls house, with proper gentlefolk who expected proper behavior.
So he sat in the public rooms of McCanns, where the noise was too loud to hear oneself think, yet Miss Abbotts words rang out in his head. Not how she found the kiss Almost nice. Nicer than most, but words like cad, wastrel, drunkard.
His mother wouldnt say it. The uppity butler might think it, but he wouldnt dare say it. Miss Abbott had more backbone than any man Daniel knew, to say it to his face.
If the wine wasnt enough to muddle his head so he could ignore those barbs, maybe a woman was. He smiled at one of the pretty females who played at the tables but plied another trade when her luck was out. He thought he might have bedded her a time or two, but devil take it if he could remember her name.
She swayed toward his table, so obviously she was not offended by his come-hither glance, or averse to spending time with him, which was a happy change. Not that he had a bad reputation with the girls here. He paid well, and more if they didnt pretend. He tried to be gentle and polite, and some were even impressed by his size. He mightnt have a title or a great fortune or a silver tongue, but he did have size. That counted in some circles, if not in Miss Abbotts.
His mothers guest seemed to admire industry and sacrifice and abstinence. Well, she wasnt going to find her perfect match at any rout party in Mayfair. No puritans attended those affairs. Shed do better to set her sights on a blasted good-deed missionary. In some distant jungle.
He set his sights on the ample endowments at his eye level whenJenny? Janie? Julie?leaned over, so he could see her charms up close.
Can I interest you in a private game, Danny?
She smelled of cheap perfume and gin. The dingy lace on her gown hung limply, and her hair was an improbable red. Her eyes were blue, but dull, with not much intelligence behind them, only greed. He wondered if she had dreams for a better future, like Miss Abbott. Damn.
Not tonight, love. But here. He tossed a coin her way. Play a hand on me. Maybe your luck will change.
His luck was definitely on holiday tonight. He even lost at cards.
My minds not on the game, he told his fellow players as he tossed in his latest losing hand. Lord Morgan Babcock and his nephew Jeremy had asked Daniel to make up a table with Jeremys younger friend, a Mr. Clarence Haversmith, who was new on the Town. That way, Lord Morgan explained, young Haversmith wouldnt get fleeced by any Captain Sharps. The Babcocks would take the lads money gladly, but honestly. Daniel had no heart for trying to lose to the greenhead.
Maybe youll be luckier at love, Lord Morgan said, winking at the plump blonde who was trying to get Daniels attention. Betty? Bonnie? Bunny?
The female draping herself across Daniels shoulders had nothing to do with love. He tucked a coin down her gown and sent her off. Ive had enough of females for the night.
Never thought to hear you say it, old man, said Jeremy, who already had a brunette in his lap. Daniel was fairly certain her name was Katherine. Or Kathleen. What ails you?
I know. Lord Morgan called for another bottle, although his hand was none too steady as he tried to light a cigar. Heard your womenfolk came to Town to take in the sights. Thats enough to put any man off his game.
