thick leather collar.
The. shopkeeper bad looked stunned when the Devil bad entered her curio shop,
and even more so when he bad gone directly to the thing and asked the woman to
wrap it up, because he would be taking it with him. "I thought it might
perk him up," he commented, reaching out to polish one of the faux gems
with his cuff.
"I don't
know about Brutus," she exclaimed, laughing harder, "but I adore
it."
James smiled.
"Then I am content," he said softly.
"Are
you?" She blushed prettily, then raised her longlashed gaze to his. He
was seized by a desire to kiss her so compelling that he took a step forward
before he could stop himself.
James froze,
horrified and dismayed at his reaction to her. If there
was one woman on the face of the earth that he had no right to even think of
kissing, it was Angelique Graham. She was Simon's, for God's sake.
The front door
opened, and he jumped. Henry charged in, running circles around his father,
while Helen and Lady Niston walked behind them. "Oh, Papa, I want a grand
horse like that. I shall name him Devil, or perhaps Lucifer. May I?"
"Certainly
not," his mother countered sternly,
Lord Niston
nodded as he saw them. "James," he said, shaking Abbonley's hand.
"Splendid animal."
James took a
breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "Thank you, Niston. You have a
splendid family."
With a woof
Brutus bounded through the doorway. "Brutus, no!" Angelique ordered.
The dog skidded to a halt at James's feet and demanded to be petted. James
complied, grateful that for once the mastiff hadn't chosen to sit on him.
"I say, my
lord marquis, have you let Demon stand at stud yet? Could I have one of the
foals?" Henry asked.
Beside him
Angelique chuckled. "I have, and no, I don't believe any are available at
the moment," he answered with a grin. "You ride then, Master
Henry?"
"Oh, yes.
Only my Ajax is slow, and he won't jump."
"And Papa
won't get him another," Helen supplied, coming forward to look at what
her sister held. "What's that? It's ugly."
Angel lifted
the collar and grinned. "It's a gift from the marquis." She leaned
over and showed it to Brutus, who apparently approved of it enough to give the
collar and her hand a wet lick. That in itself would have been enough to cause
some proper females to lose their composure, but Angelique only smiled and
fastened the jeweled band around the mastiff's neck.
"If it's
from the marquis, then it ain't ugly," Henry said firmly, though he eyed
it dubiously.
"It
is," Helen retorted defiantly.
"It
ain't!"
"My lord,
I must apologize for these hooligans," Niston grimaced.
James smiled.
"No need. I've been told I'm quite the hooligan myself." He nodded,
noting that Angel was smiling at him. The grandfather clock on the landing
chimed twelve, and he shook himself. "Please excuse me. I promised Simon
I'd go with him to one of his stuffy clubs for some luncheon."
"It was
splendid to meet you, my lord," Henry enthused, offering his hand.
"And you,
as well." James reached down and shook it solemnly, then winked at young
Helen. "Good day, and thank you again, Lady Angelique," he intoned
with a grin. "I am grateful to you."
He lasted only
twenty minutes in Simon's club before the dull and pointless conversation the
other members were earnestly engaged in drove him to leave and head for
White's, where at least he could get a meal without being made to fall asleep.
When he had decided to become respectable, he hadn't realized that being so
frequently bored would accompany it.
His reputation
did earn him a prime spot at the horse auctions the next morning, though Simon
saw fit to point out that it was because of the size of his purse and not of
his temper. "Forgive me if I'm not terribly flattered by that," James
commented offhandedly, eyeing his information sheet and the matched pair of
coach horses being paraded about the yard before him while the auctioneer
sorted out the noisy bids of his fellows.
"You like
them?" Simon queried, resting his
The. shopkeeper bad looked stunned when the Devil bad entered her curio shop,
and even more so when he bad gone directly to the thing and asked the woman to
wrap it up, because he would be taking it with him. "I thought it might
perk him up," he commented, reaching out to polish one of the faux gems
with his cuff.
"I don't
know about Brutus," she exclaimed, laughing harder, "but I adore
it."
James smiled.
"Then I am content," he said softly.
"Are
you?" She blushed prettily, then raised her longlashed gaze to his. He
was seized by a desire to kiss her so compelling that he took a step forward
before he could stop himself.
James froze,
horrified and dismayed at his reaction to her. If there
was one woman on the face of the earth that he had no right to even think of
kissing, it was Angelique Graham. She was Simon's, for God's sake.
The front door
opened, and he jumped. Henry charged in, running circles around his father,
while Helen and Lady Niston walked behind them. "Oh, Papa, I want a grand
horse like that. I shall name him Devil, or perhaps Lucifer. May I?"
"Certainly
not," his mother countered sternly,
Lord Niston
nodded as he saw them. "James," he said, shaking Abbonley's hand.
"Splendid animal."
James took a
breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "Thank you, Niston. You have a
splendid family."
With a woof
Brutus bounded through the doorway. "Brutus, no!" Angelique ordered.
The dog skidded to a halt at James's feet and demanded to be petted. James
complied, grateful that for once the mastiff hadn't chosen to sit on him.
"I say, my
lord marquis, have you let Demon stand at stud yet? Could I have one of the
foals?" Henry asked.
Beside him
Angelique chuckled. "I have, and no, I don't believe any are available at
the moment," he answered with a grin. "You ride then, Master
Henry?"
"Oh, yes.
Only my Ajax is slow, and he won't jump."
"And Papa
won't get him another," Helen supplied, coming forward to look at what
her sister held. "What's that? It's ugly."
Angel lifted
the collar and grinned. "It's a gift from the marquis." She leaned
over and showed it to Brutus, who apparently approved of it enough to give the
collar and her hand a wet lick. That in itself would have been enough to cause
some proper females to lose their composure, but Angelique only smiled and
fastened the jeweled band around the mastiff's neck.
"If it's
from the marquis, then it ain't ugly," Henry said firmly, though he eyed
it dubiously.
"It
is," Helen retorted defiantly.
"It
ain't!"
"My lord,
I must apologize for these hooligans," Niston grimaced.
James smiled.
"No need. I've been told I'm quite the hooligan myself." He nodded,
noting that Angel was smiling at him. The grandfather clock on the landing
chimed twelve, and he shook himself. "Please excuse me. I promised Simon
I'd go with him to one of his stuffy clubs for some luncheon."
"It was
splendid to meet you, my lord," Henry enthused, offering his hand.
"And you,
as well." James reached down and shook it solemnly, then winked at young
Helen. "Good day, and thank you again, Lady Angelique," he intoned
with a grin. "I am grateful to you."
He lasted only
twenty minutes in Simon's club before the dull and pointless conversation the
other members were earnestly engaged in drove him to leave and head for
White's, where at least he could get a meal without being made to fall asleep.
When he had decided to become respectable, he hadn't realized that being so
frequently bored would accompany it.
His reputation
did earn him a prime spot at the horse auctions the next morning, though Simon
saw fit to point out that it was because of the size of his purse and not of
his temper. "Forgive me if I'm not terribly flattered by that," James
commented offhandedly, eyeing his information sheet and the matched pair of
coach horses being paraded about the yard before him while the auctioneer
sorted out the noisy bids of his fellows.
"You like
them?" Simon queried, resting his
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