Page 46 of The Secret of Flirting
Wellington liked to keep his hand in things, even when he was on the verge of being booted out of office.
“Of course. We will be glad to include him.”
“Good, good. I shall let him know.”
With that, Gregory took his leave, musing upon how the addition of Danworth might change the dynamics of the group.
Danworth could be trusted to protect the princess in a pinch. And he had a reputation for being an excellent shot, which Gregory doubted was the case for either the duke or the prince.
Besides, ladies loved the witty and engaging Danworth. He could be counted on to keep Mother and Lady Ursula entertained.
And Monique?
Gregory stiffened. He’d rather take onthattask himself.
God, what was wrong with him? Yes, she felt like heaven in his arms. Yes, she amused him. But that didn’t mean he should be thinking about her incessantly, worrying about her incessantly... wanting her incessantly.
His blood roared in his ears. All right, so he wanted to bed her. Who wouldn’t? But he must not let that cloud his judgment.
Especially not until he determined precisely what the count was up to with this masquerade.
Monique wasn’t sure what she’d expected of Canterbury Court, but it certainly wasn’tthis. Though she’d realized Gregory was a man of great political importance, she hadn’t expected him to also be a man of substantial riches.
They drove through impressive gardens, which he explained covered twenty acres, before reaching the Palladian-style house. It looked stylish and refined—like the gentleman himself—and obviously spacious enough to hold the entire party with ease.
Indeed, when the count asked how many rooms it contained, Gregory said, “Thirty or so. Depends on whether you include dressing rooms, pantries, things of that nature.”
The way he tossed that off as if it were nothing astonished her. Then again, perhaps itwasnothing to the count and Lady Ursula. Though they did look quite impressed as Gregory’s comfortable traveling carriage drew up in front and a large retinue of servants stood on the steps to welcome them.
Perversely, the show of wealth and consequence put Monique even more on edge with him. She might be connected to a royal family, but she was just the poor relation, the one they would never even have approached if not for her startling resemblance to their precious princess. So if this masqueradedidend successfully, and if, by some chance, Gregory pursued a relationship with her despite her subterfuge, it could never be a legitimate one.
He might consider making her his mistress, but no more. A man with his ambitions couldn’t marry a French actress, considered by most in English society to be beneath contempt. Best to keep that in mind at every turn, before she let his kisses and caresses turn her head and make her consider the impossible.
But how she wished Grand-maman had prepared her for what to do when the smile he shot her as he personally helped her from the carriage gave her such foolish, raging urges. How was she to handle the heat that built in her belly as he placed her hand firmly in the crook of his arm, and oh so swiftly touched the wrist with his love bite?
It was fading now—she didn’t even need to hide it anymore—but she was still aware of the place of it, like an invisible itch that needed soothing.
“Does this meet with your approval, Your Serene Highness?” he murmured without a hint of sarcasm, probably because her great-uncle was close on their heels.
“You know perfectly well that it’s lovely. Your gardens alone were worth the trip.”
His heated gaze dropped to her lips. “Then I shall be sure to give you a tour of them later.”
Oh, she knew whatthatmeant, and the very thought of being alone with him sent her heart into a ridiculous frenzy.
“Yes,” Lady Ursula interrupted brightly, “I’m sure we would all enjoy a tour of the gardens.”
Monique sighed with resignation... and maybe some relief.
Her great-uncle said, “Not I. I am quite tired after our journey. But you young people should go, by all means.”
“Gregory!” A woman whom Monique had at first taken for a housekeeper because of her apron came running down the steps.
When Gregory released Monique’s arm to kiss the woman’s cheek, Monique realized belatedly that it must be Lady Fulkham, which he confirmed by saying, “Here we are, Mother, just as I warned. Do with us as you will.”
The woman with salt-and-pepper hair and blue eyes a shade lighter than Gregory’s drew back to wag a finger at him. “Notas you warned. You said you would be much later.”
He flashed her an affectionate smile. “Is that why you’re still wearing your apron?”
