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Authors: Shirlee Busbee
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covert study of him. Her sly scrutiny had nothing to do with finding him attractive, he admitted wryly, and everything to do with trying to find a weakness in an enemy. No, the lady was definitely not happy at his presence here tonight, and since he’d been on his best behavior he could only think of one reason why she viewed him so adversely: he was competition.
Luc nearly laughed aloud. Did the sprite really think she could best him? His relationship with Silas was based on simple liking and respect, but if Gillian Dashwood wished to ascribe evil intentions to his friendship with her uncle, so be it. His expression giving no clue to his thoughts, he considered the situation. Silas was an old man and possessed a comfortable fortune and a fine home... . Perhaps she had designs upon her uncle’s wealth and assumed that he did, too? Certain he had hit upon the reason for both her dislike of him and the unexpected visit, he nodded to himself. Naturellement! There could be no other explanation. His eyes narrowed, studying the trim form and enchanting face. If Madame Dashwood was up to something, it might be diverting, he decided, to overset whatever plans she had for her uncle.
Anticipation licked along Luc’s veins. Crossing swords with a suspected murderess would prove amusing and break the boredom of a long winter. His gaze traveled over that lush mouth and surprisingly generous bosom for one so slender and that earlier tingle in his groin reasserted itself. Hmmm. It might also prove exceedingly enjoyable in the bargain.
Dinner behind them, Luc did not linger, but as he prepared to depart, he said, “When the weather clears, since your uncle will be unable to do so, may I have the pleasure of escorting you ladies for a ride around the neighborhood?”
Before Gillian could refuse, Silas exclaimed, “Excellent suggestion, my boy.”
“Of course, if you would like to accompany us,” Luc said slowly, “we could take your barouche and those grays you’re so proud of and go for a drive instead.”
Silas shook his head and indicated his broken arm. “Thank you, no. Until the bone knits, the ride home in my phaeton the other night was enough jostling for me.” Slyly he added, “I’ll admit it’s a tempting idea, though—you’d get to see my grays in action.”
Luc smiled and shook his head. “I’m not in the market for a team—no matter how well matched.” When Silas would have pressed the issue, Luc held up a hand, saying, “Buying those four horses of yours would also entail my purchasing a proper vehicle for them to pull.” He gave a theatrical shudder. “Tooling around in a barouche such as yours would make me feel like a settled family man.”
“You may find yourself a settled family man one of these days,” Silas observed and at Luc’s skeptical look, added, “If you are not careful, you’ll end up a crusty old bachelor like myself.”
Bowing in the direction of the two ladies, Luc quipped, “But if I have two such lovely young women as your nieces to tend me in my old age, who is to say it would be such a terrible fate?”
“Coming it too strong, my boy,” Silas said, smiling. “But enough of this wrangling—the ladies will expect you on the first fine day to squire them around the neighborhood. And as is befitting a man of my age, I’ll remain home by the fire sipping hot punch until you return.”
Gillian leaned forward and protested, “But, Uncle, we wouldn’t enjoy ourselves knowing you were here at the house by yourself while we were gallivanting about the neighborhood.”
“The lady has a point, sir,” Luc murmured. “Perhaps the ride should be postponed until you can accompany us.”
“Nonsense!” said Silas forthrightly. Bending an affectionate look on Gillian, he added, “How do you think I will feel, knowing you are denying yourself a pleasure to sit by an old man? No. I insist that you go. It will only be for a few hours, and it will be good for you to get out of
Luc nearly laughed aloud. Did the sprite really think she could best him? His relationship with Silas was based on simple liking and respect, but if Gillian Dashwood wished to ascribe evil intentions to his friendship with her uncle, so be it. His expression giving no clue to his thoughts, he considered the situation. Silas was an old man and possessed a comfortable fortune and a fine home... . Perhaps she had designs upon her uncle’s wealth and assumed that he did, too? Certain he had hit upon the reason for both her dislike of him and the unexpected visit, he nodded to himself. Naturellement! There could be no other explanation. His eyes narrowed, studying the trim form and enchanting face. If Madame Dashwood was up to something, it might be diverting, he decided, to overset whatever plans she had for her uncle.
Anticipation licked along Luc’s veins. Crossing swords with a suspected murderess would prove amusing and break the boredom of a long winter. His gaze traveled over that lush mouth and surprisingly generous bosom for one so slender and that earlier tingle in his groin reasserted itself. Hmmm. It might also prove exceedingly enjoyable in the bargain.
Dinner behind them, Luc did not linger, but as he prepared to depart, he said, “When the weather clears, since your uncle will be unable to do so, may I have the pleasure of escorting you ladies for a ride around the neighborhood?”
Before Gillian could refuse, Silas exclaimed, “Excellent suggestion, my boy.”
“Of course, if you would like to accompany us,” Luc said slowly, “we could take your barouche and those grays you’re so proud of and go for a drive instead.”
Silas shook his head and indicated his broken arm. “Thank you, no. Until the bone knits, the ride home in my phaeton the other night was enough jostling for me.” Slyly he added, “I’ll admit it’s a tempting idea, though—you’d get to see my grays in action.”
Luc smiled and shook his head. “I’m not in the market for a team—no matter how well matched.” When Silas would have pressed the issue, Luc held up a hand, saying, “Buying those four horses of yours would also entail my purchasing a proper vehicle for them to pull.” He gave a theatrical shudder. “Tooling around in a barouche such as yours would make me feel like a settled family man.”
“You may find yourself a settled family man one of these days,” Silas observed and at Luc’s skeptical look, added, “If you are not careful, you’ll end up a crusty old bachelor like myself.”
Bowing in the direction of the two ladies, Luc quipped, “But if I have two such lovely young women as your nieces to tend me in my old age, who is to say it would be such a terrible fate?”
“Coming it too strong, my boy,” Silas said, smiling. “But enough of this wrangling—the ladies will expect you on the first fine day to squire them around the neighborhood. And as is befitting a man of my age, I’ll remain home by the fire sipping hot punch until you return.”
Gillian leaned forward and protested, “But, Uncle, we wouldn’t enjoy ourselves knowing you were here at the house by yourself while we were gallivanting about the neighborhood.”
“The lady has a point, sir,” Luc murmured. “Perhaps the ride should be postponed until you can accompany us.”
“Nonsense!” said Silas forthrightly. Bending an affectionate look on Gillian, he added, “How do you think I will feel, knowing you are denying yourself a pleasure to sit by an old man? No. I insist that you go. It will only be for a few hours, and it will be good for you to get out of
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