Page 25 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
Bloody hell, had she cast aside her plan to dissuade the fortune hunters so soon? His job might be easier than he’d thought. Of all the titled snobs in London, Drayton might well be the least opportunistic. The man spent his nights staring out of a telescope and his days composing academic studies of his findings. He seemed good-natured. Harmless. Certainly not arake who would motivate Finn to roll up his sleeves and teach him a lesson about the dangers of attempting to compromise a lady.
So why did the thought of tossing the overly solicitous lord straight through the door—and down the marble steps for good measure—appeal to him?
It was high time he saw what the man was up to. Finn edged toward the women as they continued their discussion with Drayton. He thought he might send the bloke a well-timed glare, but Nell stepped into Drayton’s line of sight.
“I understand you’re a fellow of the Royal Astronomical Society,” she said. “I’ve heard you are tracking a comet.”
He offered a nod. “You know of my work?”
Nell’s smile lit her blue eyes as she and the astronomer animatedly discussed some giant ball of cosmic gas the man sought to discover.
“With any luck, I will have the good fortune to study under Sir George Darwin,” Drayton went on, his tone surprisingly humble.
A rosy hue tinted Nell’s cheeks. “How fascinating.”
“A marvelous opportunity, indeed,” Macie said blandly. Was she growing bored with the aristocrat so soon?
“But enough about me.” Drayton regarded Macie with unfiltered interest. “I must confess, I am curious about your name. Macie is rather unique. Is there a story behind it?”
“As with most things regarding my dear friend, thereisa story,” Nell said with a chuckle.
“Indeed.” Macie smiled. “When I was a little girl, my oh-so-proper name, Mary Catherine, seemed a bit much to pronounce. Mum began to call me Macie.”
“I suspect she enjoyed the irony of naming you after your father’s American rival,” Finn said, making his presence known.
She flashed a fetching grin. “He has learned to live with it.”
“Your name conveys a vibrant spirit. It suits you.” Drayton drew yet another smile from Macie.
The man is certainly laying it on thick.Much more of this, and Macie would find herself betrothed before her brother returned. A stroke of luck, if ever Finn had heard of one.
Blasted shame Finn wasn’t in a mood to appreciate his good fortune.
*
In the momentsafter Lady Evansdale had excused herself to continue her duties as hostess, Macie struggled to hide her disappointment. She had thoroughly enjoyed their conversation, hanging on the widow’s every word as she’d recounted attending one of the American suffragist Susan B. Anthony’s invigorating speeches. But now, as Lord Drayton blathered on—and on—Macie glanced at the ornate grandfather clock. Surely enough time had passed that she could gently make her exit.
Finn had already made his escape. Or so it seemed. He’d offered to fetch her another drink, but it appeared he had somehow become lost on his return. At the moment, Macie possessed neither a beverage nor patience. Perhaps she’d plead a sudden need for fresh air and venture to the garden. Alone, if need be.
And then, she spotted him. Bearing two crystal glasses, Finn deftly navigated the crush. She didn’t want to admit it, but her so-called protector looked particularly dashing. His golden-brown hair brushed his collar, beckoning her touch. Never a dandy, he wore a dark coat and trousers that had been precisely tailored to his lean, muscular frame. His linen shirt was pristine, while the ivory tie at his throat stirred all manner of thoughts.First, she’d free the knot and glide the length of silk from his body. The pearly white buttons on his shirt would come next.
Oh dear.Macie hoped she had not flushed. Why, if anyone could read her mind, they would be utterly scandalized. She bit back a grin. Was it any wonder she was losing patience with the astronomer’s detailed expositions regarding his newest acquisition, a state-of-the-art telescope for his personal observatory?
Offering a tight smile with the flute of champagne, Finn came to stand close—perhaps too close—by her side. “For ye, my dear Macie.”
He regarded her with a look she supposed was meant to appear adoring. Unfortunately, his features looked pinched, and his overly solicitous tone didn’t fit him at all. Was it so very difficult to pretend an interest in her?
“Thank you,” she said, and he edged even nearer. Much more, and he might well tread on her skirt. She shot him a glare as she took a step to the side, just in time to avoid his shoe treading upon her hem. What in blazes was he up to? She’d observed his casual ease with women long enough to know him to be far from a clumsy oaf. Did he think this would discourage her from her plan?
Nell’s brow furrowed, but she happily accepted the glass he offered. “You simply must tell Lord Drayton about our latest adventure,” she said. “The ghost in the chapel. In Cardiff.”
“Oh,that.” Macie reflected on the memory. “It may have been a trick of the light.”
“You must admit, the image you captured looks very much like a spirit,” Nell replied. “A rather nasty-looking phantom who might’ve given Mr. Dickens a nightmare or two, at that.”
“Whatever it was, I did not find it frightening. Not in the least.”
“She is quite brave,” Nell went on. “I fear I would have fainted dead away.”
