point.”
“What would those patronesses say to a young lady who didn’t bow to their dictates?”
Was that hesitation? Until this second he’d never seen her unsure of her footing. “I’ve seen them ask girls to leave, never to be invited back again,” he answered truthfully.
“That’s absurd.”
“I agree. But it’s also custom.”
“I am not customary.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “No, you are not that.”
“They wouldn’t dare ask a princess to leave.”
Wouldn’t they? They counted a minor princess among their number. “Honestly, Josefina,” he said in a low voice, “I think you should wear white. Your father is trying to find investors, and some of them will be in attendance tonight. You seem eager to cause a stir, but I do not recommend one of that sort.”
She swept to her feet, the lilac scent intensifying. “Stuff and nonsense,” she muttered. “Is there anything else I should know about this wretched assembly?”
“If you wish to waltz, you have to be presented to the patronesses and gain their permission.”
“Very well. I will wear white, and you will present me.” With that she stomped out of the room.
“A female presents you,” he amended to her back as she vanished.
A snifter of brandy appeared over his shoulder. “As Zachary would say,” Valentine murmured, “St. George’s buttonholes. That chit is exquisite.”
“She’s mad,” Sebastian returned feelingly, keeping his voice down as the rey approached them. “And irritating.” He faced her father. “Do you have a copy of that prospectus for me, Your Majesty?”
“I do.” The rey lifted the tome from a side table and handed it over. “And let me say again how much I respect your business acumen and how thankful I am that the Regent has appointed you to aide us.”
Sebastian inclined his head. “Will Queen Maria be joining us tonight?”
“Yes, she will.” The rey chuckled. “The one universal truth about females everywhere is that they take a very long time to dress.” He turned his attention to Valentine. “I hope His Grace might encourage you to invest in Costa Habichuela as well, Lord Deverill.”
“The—”
“Ah, there she is. Maria, you know Melbourne. And this is his brother-in-law, the Marquis of Deverill.”
A more matronly version of her daughter, Queen Maria stopped inside the drawing room doorway to curtsy. Where her husband seemed friendly and agreeable, the queen fit the traditional view of royalty—elegant, quiet, and a little aloof. Her daughter had inherited all of those qualities except for the reserved tongue.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said, straightening. “And thank you, Your Grace, for informing Josefina of the proper custom of dress for this evening. We were unaware.”
“My pleasure, Your Majesty.”
“I expected more retainers or guards or hangers-on running about the house here,” Deverill commented. “Melbourne’s got more than this, and he’s considered spartan in the area of minions.”
“We’re in the process of recruiting more of them,” the rey said, chuckling.
They talked about the weather and other insignificant topics for the next ten minutes. Sebastian was grateful that he’d brought Valentine along, because the marquis held up their end of the conversation while his mind wandered elsewhere. Mostly his fingers itched to open the prospectus and delve deeper into Costa Habichuela. At the back of his mind, though, he was waiting, listening for footfalls on the stairs just outside the door.
Did he like her? Did he hate her? Certainly no one in his thirty-four years had ever spoken to him as she did. All he knew was that in her presence he felt like a lion prowling for its next meal; dark, primal, and not the least bit civilized or even rational.
As long as he was aware of it, he supposed that hewould be able to carry on with his duty to Prinny and ignore it. God knew he’d set aside his personal needs and feelings before.
He heard
“What would those patronesses say to a young lady who didn’t bow to their dictates?”
Was that hesitation? Until this second he’d never seen her unsure of her footing. “I’ve seen them ask girls to leave, never to be invited back again,” he answered truthfully.
“That’s absurd.”
“I agree. But it’s also custom.”
“I am not customary.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “No, you are not that.”
“They wouldn’t dare ask a princess to leave.”
Wouldn’t they? They counted a minor princess among their number. “Honestly, Josefina,” he said in a low voice, “I think you should wear white. Your father is trying to find investors, and some of them will be in attendance tonight. You seem eager to cause a stir, but I do not recommend one of that sort.”
She swept to her feet, the lilac scent intensifying. “Stuff and nonsense,” she muttered. “Is there anything else I should know about this wretched assembly?”
“If you wish to waltz, you have to be presented to the patronesses and gain their permission.”
“Very well. I will wear white, and you will present me.” With that she stomped out of the room.
“A female presents you,” he amended to her back as she vanished.
A snifter of brandy appeared over his shoulder. “As Zachary would say,” Valentine murmured, “St. George’s buttonholes. That chit is exquisite.”
“She’s mad,” Sebastian returned feelingly, keeping his voice down as the rey approached them. “And irritating.” He faced her father. “Do you have a copy of that prospectus for me, Your Majesty?”
“I do.” The rey lifted the tome from a side table and handed it over. “And let me say again how much I respect your business acumen and how thankful I am that the Regent has appointed you to aide us.”
Sebastian inclined his head. “Will Queen Maria be joining us tonight?”
“Yes, she will.” The rey chuckled. “The one universal truth about females everywhere is that they take a very long time to dress.” He turned his attention to Valentine. “I hope His Grace might encourage you to invest in Costa Habichuela as well, Lord Deverill.”
“The—”
“Ah, there she is. Maria, you know Melbourne. And this is his brother-in-law, the Marquis of Deverill.”
A more matronly version of her daughter, Queen Maria stopped inside the drawing room doorway to curtsy. Where her husband seemed friendly and agreeable, the queen fit the traditional view of royalty—elegant, quiet, and a little aloof. Her daughter had inherited all of those qualities except for the reserved tongue.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said, straightening. “And thank you, Your Grace, for informing Josefina of the proper custom of dress for this evening. We were unaware.”
“My pleasure, Your Majesty.”
“I expected more retainers or guards or hangers-on running about the house here,” Deverill commented. “Melbourne’s got more than this, and he’s considered spartan in the area of minions.”
“We’re in the process of recruiting more of them,” the rey said, chuckling.
They talked about the weather and other insignificant topics for the next ten minutes. Sebastian was grateful that he’d brought Valentine along, because the marquis held up their end of the conversation while his mind wandered elsewhere. Mostly his fingers itched to open the prospectus and delve deeper into Costa Habichuela. At the back of his mind, though, he was waiting, listening for footfalls on the stairs just outside the door.
Did he like her? Did he hate her? Certainly no one in his thirty-four years had ever spoken to him as she did. All he knew was that in her presence he felt like a lion prowling for its next meal; dark, primal, and not the least bit civilized or even rational.
As long as he was aware of it, he supposed that hewould be able to carry on with his duty to Prinny and ignore it. God knew he’d set aside his personal needs and feelings before.
He heard
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