Louise Allen Read Online Free Page B

yourself to converse with me while you decide?’
    ‘What makes you think I have such a catalogue, Lady Isobel?’
Giles accepted a glass of claret from the earl with a word of thanks and turned
back to her. Interesting that she described herself as a spinster. She was
perhaps twenty-four, he guessed, five years younger than he was. The shelf might
be in sight, but she was not at her last prayers yet and it was an unusual young
woman who would admit any danger that she might be.
    ‘You are studying me with scientific thoroughness, sir. I half
expect you to produce a net and a pin to affix me amongst your moth
collection.’
    Moth , he noted. Not butterfly. Modesty? Or is she seeing if I can be provoked
into meaningless compliments?
    ‘You have a forensic stare yourself, ma’am.’
    Her lips firmed, just as he suspected they might. Schoolmarm disapproval , he thought.Or embarrassment,although he was beginning todoubt she
could be embarrassed. Lady Isobel seemed more like a young matron than an
unmarried girl. She showed no other sign of emotion and yet he could feel the
tension radiating from her. It was strangely unsettling, although he should be
grateful that his unwise curiosity had not led her to relax in his company.
    ‘You refer to our meeting of eyes in the hall? You must be
tolerant of my interest, sir—one rarely sees Greek statuary walking about. I
note that you do not relish being assessed in the same way as you study others,
although you must be used to it by now. I am certain that you do not harbour
false modesty amongst your faults.’
    The composure with which she attacked began to nettle him.
After that exchange she should be blushing, fiddling with her fan perhaps,
retreating from their conversation to sip her drink, but she seemed quite calm
and prepared to continue the duel. It confirmed his belief that she had been
sounding him out with an intention to flirt—or more.
    ‘I have a mirror and I would be a fool to become swollen-headed
over something that is due to no effort or merit of my own. Certainly I am used
to stares,’ he replied. ‘And do not welcome them.’
    ‘So modest and so persecuted. My heart bleeds for you, Mr
Harker,’ Lady Isobel said with a sweet smile and every appearance of sympathy.
Her eyes were chill with dislike. ‘And no doubt you find it necessary to lock
your bedchamber door at night with tiresome regularity.’
    ‘That, too,’ he replied between gritted teeth, then caught
himself. Somehow he had been lured into an utterly shocking exchange. A
well-bred unmarried lady should have fainted dead away before making such an
observation. And he should have bitten his tongue before responding to it,
whatever the provocation. Certainly in public.
    ‘How trying it must be, Mr Harker, to be so troubled by
importunate members of my sex. We should wait meekly to be noticed, should we
not? And be grateful for any attention we receive. We must not inconvenience, or
ignore, the lords of creation who, in their turn, may ogle as much as they
please while they make their lordly choices.’
    Lady Isobel’s voice was low and pleasant—no one else in the
room would have noticed anything amiss in their conversation. But Giles realised
what the emotion was that had puzzled him: she was furiously angry. With him.
Simply because he had reacted coldly to her unladylike stare? Damn it, she had
been assessing him like a housewife looking at a side of beef in the butchers.
Or did she know who he was and think him presumptuous to even address her?
    ‘That is certainly what is expected of ladies, yes,’ he said,
his own temper rising. He’d be damned if he was going to flirt and cajole her
into a sweet mood, even if Lady Hardwicke noticed their spat. ‘Certainly
unmarried ones—whatever their age.’
    Her chin came up at that. ‘A hit, sir. Congratulations. But
then a connoisseur such as yourself would notice only ladies who offer irresistible temptation . Not those who are on the shelf