Page 10 of When Dashing Met Danger

“He’s always in a bad mood,” Lucia grumbled.

“You’ve met him twice, Lucia,” Francesca said with a laugh. “He’s only in a foul mood nine times out of ten.”

“Ah, seven more to go, then, as Selbourne was quite unpleasant last night. He mentioned something about a family matter being the reason for his presence in Town but refused to explain any further.” Francesca raised a brow, and Lucia drummed her fingers on the table, keeping time with her tapping toes. “Naturally I thought he was referring to Lord Winterbourne and you, but he told me that wasn’t the case. Then he mentioned something about calling here this morning.” She scowled. “Selbourne was quite mysterious about the whole thing.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Francesca said. “He’s not exactly a stunning conversationalist.”

“Conversation? The man doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

The two sat in companionable silence for a moment. Francesca stared longingly at the sweets on the sideboard while Lucia tried to decide exactly how much to confide to her sister.

Wondering what family emergency had brought Selbourne to Town had cost her a restless night, but that didn’t account for all the night’s tossing and turning. The memory of Selbourne’s hands on the curve of her neck, the slope of her shoulders, had its own part in keeping her awake. Each time she’d closed her eyes, she felt his touch and saw his face, those molten pewter eyes. It was enough to startle her awake, and she’d finally gotten up and paced the room, trying to work it out. Sometime before dawn, she’d ended up asleep in her chair.

When she awoke, she’d resolved to ask Francesca about the whole situation, but now that the moment had arrived, Lucia hardly knew where to begin. “About Lord Selbourne—” she tried again.

“Aren’t you being a bit hard on Selbourne?” Francesca asked, her voice muffled as she munched on a bite of tart pilfered from her mother’s forgotten plate.

“No, in the carriage he—”

Francesca swallowed the tart in a gulp. “You and Dandridge were in Selbourne’s carriage?”

“No.” Lucia glanced down. “Dandridge wasn’t with us.” She pulled at her lip, hoping Francesca wouldn’t ask too many questions about her affianced.

“Where was Lord Dandridge?” Francesca wrinkled her nose as if the name left a sour taste in her mouth.

“Still at the Pools’. You see—I mean—Lord Selbourne—” Lucia took another deep breath.

“Yes?” Francesca leaned forward, impatient. “Lord Selbourne must have offered to escort you home,” she surmised, narrowing her eyes. “Why? What happened to Lord Dandridge? Or should I say with Lord Dandridge?”

Lucia pulled harder at her lip, squirmed. “Reginald had a bit too much of the Pools’ champagne, and Selbourne didn’t approve.” She’d been uncomfortable a moment before, but recalling the whole incident was making her angry all over again. “Your brother-in-law is altogether too meddlesome. I had the situation under perfect control until he—he—interfered!”

“Oh, good Lord!” Francesca slammed her palm on the table. “Are you telling me Dandridge was trying to take advantage of you?”

Lucia shifted, squirmed again.

“That’s it! Lord, I was never in favor of this engagement, and now I’m going to have Ethan call Dandridge out—”

“Francesca! No!” Lucia reached across the table and grasped Francesca’s fist. “You know how much this means to Father, and it was nothing. Really! I had everything under control until Selbourne, insufferable man, insisted upon seeing me home.” She released Francesca and sat back, crossing her arms. “You really should speak to your brother-in-law about his manners. I can’t go traipsing about with a man like him or people will start to talk.”

Francesca laughed, and Lucia pursed her lips at the look of forbearance on her older sister’s face.

“Lucia, he’s practically your brother-in-law, too—though you seem determined to disown him today. No one will comment if he escorts you home on occasion.”

Lucia’s jaw dropped at this betrayal. “And you claim to be my sister?”

“I’m still your sister,” Francesca said, “and I agree that Selbourne isn’t a man to be seen with in Society often, but really, he’s harmless. Ethan assures me that all the stories about his rakish ways are quite exaggerated.”

“Ethan would say that. The gossip surrounding his days as a rake—before he met you, of course—are just as bad. But neither of you was in the carriage or in the garden, and I can assure you that all the gossip about Selbourne—and then some—is true.” Too late, Lucia blushed and clamped her mouth shut.

“Is it?” Francesca narrowed her eyes and grasped Lucia’s hand before she could tuck it safely away. “What happened in Selbourne’s carriage?”

“I assisted Miss Dashing with her hair,” a deep male voice answered.

Lucia started, her heart jumping into her throat while her gaze flew to the door where Selbourne stood, one shoulder propped against the frame. Blood rushed to her face.

Pushing away from the doorway, Selbourne strode to the sideboard and investigated the breakfast dishes. “Lord Dandridge had made quite a mess of it. Naturally, Miss Dashing wanted to avoid the servants’ notice, so I offered my assistance.” He picked up a serving spoon, set it down again. “I think I made a tolerable job of it. Don’t you agree, Miss Dashing?” He glanced at her, dark eyebrows arched, gray eyes laden with mischief.

Lucia squeezed her eyes shut. She imagined even her eyelids were pink with embarrassment.

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