debut.
“My dear Kate. Are you feeling quite all right?” Quinn’s voice had again returned to the bantering drawl he customarily affected.
“I think not, my lord. I am touched by a strange dizziness.”
“P’raps the fresh air will help.” He offered her his arm.
She took it at the elbow, feeling like a fool. How did he have such an effect upon her usually calm state of mind? This must stop, she told herself. She took a deep breath. A close call, that. What would she have done if he’d tried to kiss her?
As they walked, she became thunderstruck by the realization that she wouldn’t have minded at all.
Looking at Quinn’s mobile mouth, she wondered what he would have done if she’d kissed him.
Kate distracted herself by examining the park.
Although spring had come early this year, Hyde Park’s flower borders had not yet come into their own. The odd daisy and crocus flowered underfoot, and she stepped around them. She had already seen that natural beauty rarely showed its face in London.
Another fashionable equipage, this time a landaulet, pulled up alongside Kate and Quinn. Its red-haired occupant leaned out to blatantly scrutinize Kate, who stiffened . I will never become accustomed to town manners. Kate thought the woman rude, but both the redhead and Quinn behaved as though nothing were amiss.
“Devere.” The woman inclined her head and extended a hand, as majestic as a queen.
She cut Kate. Quinn raised a brow.
“Good afternoon, Lady Bertha,” he said politely.
“May I introduce to you my, er, cousin, Kay Tyndale, lately come to visit us from India?” He sketched a bow at the woman’s outstretched hand without releasing his hold on Kate. “Kay, this is Bertha, Lady Staveley.”
“Lady Bertha,” Kate said, loosening her grip on Quinn’s arm. She had not realized that she clutched him tightly, a most improper action.
Quinn failed to take the hint, and Kate was powerless to free herself. She would not engage in a tussle.
“A pleasure, Miss Tyndale,” said the lady. “Do come call upon me while you are in Town. Devere knows the direction, of course.” She cast a languishing glance upon Quinn.
Kate glanced at her guardian. Quinn’s cheeks had flushed. She bit the inside of her mouth to keep from chuckling at his embarrassment.
“Good day, Lady Bertha.” Quinn stepped away from the landaulet. The carriage drove away, but not before its occupant winked at Quinn.
“Perhaps it would be best if we returned to Bruton Street,” Quinn said.
“As you wish, cousin Quinn.” Kate, though jealous, was determined not to show that ugly emotion. She winked at Quinn.
“Stop it, Kate.” He handed her back up into the curricle.
She laughed.
“Wretched child.” Climbing in after her, he took the reins.
“I am sorry, my lord. I realize that my presence was, um, a bit de trop .” Kate fluttered her eyelashes at him, imitating Lady Bertha, though inwardly hurt because he called her a child. Nothing had changed between them. She must have been mad to imagine that he’d nearly kissed her.
“You are not de trop . Lady Bertha delights in shocking others. Please do not emulate her by winking at unattached males, or in any other manner.”
“Yes, my lord.” Kate’s heart felt bruised. She had thought that playing the coquette would bring her into her guardian’s good graces. She knew not what to do to make it easy between them again.
“Oh, the devil!” Quinn stopped the curricle and looped the reins, turning to take both of her hands in both of his. “Kate.”
She avoided his gaze. “Yes, my lord?”
“Look at me, my ward.”
She looked.
His mouth set into a firm, uncompromising line.
“You need not change for me or anyone, do you understand?”
She blinked, utterly confused. “I believe so, my lord.”
“Very well, then.” He released his hold on her hands.
Kate spent the rest of the drive wondering what on earth had happened between them. Quinn blew hot and cold
“My dear Kate. Are you feeling quite all right?” Quinn’s voice had again returned to the bantering drawl he customarily affected.
“I think not, my lord. I am touched by a strange dizziness.”
“P’raps the fresh air will help.” He offered her his arm.
She took it at the elbow, feeling like a fool. How did he have such an effect upon her usually calm state of mind? This must stop, she told herself. She took a deep breath. A close call, that. What would she have done if he’d tried to kiss her?
As they walked, she became thunderstruck by the realization that she wouldn’t have minded at all.
Looking at Quinn’s mobile mouth, she wondered what he would have done if she’d kissed him.
Kate distracted herself by examining the park.
Although spring had come early this year, Hyde Park’s flower borders had not yet come into their own. The odd daisy and crocus flowered underfoot, and she stepped around them. She had already seen that natural beauty rarely showed its face in London.
Another fashionable equipage, this time a landaulet, pulled up alongside Kate and Quinn. Its red-haired occupant leaned out to blatantly scrutinize Kate, who stiffened . I will never become accustomed to town manners. Kate thought the woman rude, but both the redhead and Quinn behaved as though nothing were amiss.
“Devere.” The woman inclined her head and extended a hand, as majestic as a queen.
She cut Kate. Quinn raised a brow.
“Good afternoon, Lady Bertha,” he said politely.
“May I introduce to you my, er, cousin, Kay Tyndale, lately come to visit us from India?” He sketched a bow at the woman’s outstretched hand without releasing his hold on Kate. “Kay, this is Bertha, Lady Staveley.”
“Lady Bertha,” Kate said, loosening her grip on Quinn’s arm. She had not realized that she clutched him tightly, a most improper action.
Quinn failed to take the hint, and Kate was powerless to free herself. She would not engage in a tussle.
“A pleasure, Miss Tyndale,” said the lady. “Do come call upon me while you are in Town. Devere knows the direction, of course.” She cast a languishing glance upon Quinn.
Kate glanced at her guardian. Quinn’s cheeks had flushed. She bit the inside of her mouth to keep from chuckling at his embarrassment.
“Good day, Lady Bertha.” Quinn stepped away from the landaulet. The carriage drove away, but not before its occupant winked at Quinn.
“Perhaps it would be best if we returned to Bruton Street,” Quinn said.
“As you wish, cousin Quinn.” Kate, though jealous, was determined not to show that ugly emotion. She winked at Quinn.
“Stop it, Kate.” He handed her back up into the curricle.
She laughed.
“Wretched child.” Climbing in after her, he took the reins.
“I am sorry, my lord. I realize that my presence was, um, a bit de trop .” Kate fluttered her eyelashes at him, imitating Lady Bertha, though inwardly hurt because he called her a child. Nothing had changed between them. She must have been mad to imagine that he’d nearly kissed her.
“You are not de trop . Lady Bertha delights in shocking others. Please do not emulate her by winking at unattached males, or in any other manner.”
“Yes, my lord.” Kate’s heart felt bruised. She had thought that playing the coquette would bring her into her guardian’s good graces. She knew not what to do to make it easy between them again.
“Oh, the devil!” Quinn stopped the curricle and looped the reins, turning to take both of her hands in both of his. “Kate.”
She avoided his gaze. “Yes, my lord?”
“Look at me, my ward.”
She looked.
His mouth set into a firm, uncompromising line.
“You need not change for me or anyone, do you understand?”
She blinked, utterly confused. “I believe so, my lord.”
“Very well, then.” He released his hold on her hands.
Kate spent the rest of the drive wondering what on earth had happened between them. Quinn blew hot and cold
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