Page 26 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
“It’s a good thing I did not. Just lying there, I fear I would have resembled a sack of grain.”
“The key is to swoon gracefully.” Nell’s carefully timed glance slid to Lord Drayton. “But only when a gentleman is there to catch you.”
“I cannot say that I possess any experience with swooning.” Macie smiled to herself. “Would taking a spill in a puddle of wine count?”’
Drayton appeared to resist the urge to chuckle. “Ah, the unfortunate ballroom incident.”
“Oh, Macie,thatwas not a swoon,” Nell declared. “A true swoon would be slower. More gentle. Rather graceful, I’d imagine.”
“Rest assured, if I were lying unconscious on cold marble, I’d not give a fig about the art of the swoon. Graceful or otherwise,” Macie countered.
“According to an article in an esteemed ladies’ magazine, swooning is most effective when one isnottruly unconscious,” Nell went on, undeterred. “Of course, a lady should be within arm’s reach of a gentleman.” She slid Finn a pointed glance. “Or perhaps, a rogue.”
Finn met the good-natured teasing with a touch of a smile. “Ye wound me, Miss Blake.”
“There is a saying.” Nell cocked a brow. “If the shoe fits.”
He scrubbed a palm against his cheek. “I cannot say I’ve ever drawn a reference to Cinderella before.”
Drayton cleared his throat. “Mother was relieved you were not injured,” he said. “She prides herself on being the consummate hostess.” Was that a touch of sarcasm in his tone?
“Please, do reassure your mother her reputation for graciousness remains untarnished,” Macie replied. “Shecertainly could not have anticipated a puddle of wine beneath my slipper.”
“Tell me, Miss Mason, what have you chosen as the subject of your latest work?” Drayton said, deftly changing the subject.
“Before we undertake the restoration of my grandfather’s mansion, I plan to capture the nuances of its past, the beauty the years have not dimmed.”
“Tell him the truth, Macie,” Nell spoke up. “Your grandfather thought the house was haunted. You’re hoping to find a ghost to capture with your lens. Just as we did in that old chapel.”
Finn’s brows hiked. “Ye believe ye encountered a phantom?”
“Indeed,” Nell said with a nod. “The spirit in that gloomy place was not a trick of the light. I found it rather alarming. But Macie did not so much as flinch.”
“It would take more than a ghost to send me into a dither,” Macie said truthfully.
“Ye’d be wise to exercise caution in decrepit old buildings,” Finn said. “If the staircase is unstable, a specter might be the least of yer worries.”
“Words of caution from London’s most daring rogue.” Macie pinned him with her gaze. “Isn’t it true you attempted to scale the Stirling Old Bridge while you were on holiday from university?”
“An exaggeration, though I won’t deny my reckless youth,” he replied. “But that does not change the fact that ye take too many chances.”
“Surely you are not afraid I will get in over my head.”
Challenge flashed in his eyes. “It would not be the first time.”
“And likely not the last. I may now be London’s answer to Calamity Jane following my unladylike tumble.”
“We both know I was not referring to dangers to yer dignity,” Finn said. “I’m more concerned with that pretty neck of yers.”
She shot him a deliberately cheeky grin. “So, Mr. Caldwell, given your concern for my well-being, the question is—the next time I fall, will you be there to catch me?”
“Do ye have any doubt?” A look of mischief brewed in Finn’s eyes. “Shall we test out Miss Blake’s theory?”
Oh, dear.
“Theory?” Macie choked out the word.
“Of swooning,” he said matter-of-factly.
