Page 12 of One Night with a Prince
“Oh, please,” Lady Iversley broke in, “we’re not fools. Perhapsyou believe your association is about business, but it’s perfectly clear that Byrne intends to—”
“Yes,” Lady Draker broke in, with a warning glance at her friend. “What Katherine is trying to say is that you should have a care for your reputation. If you are seen going for a drive tête-à-tête with Byrne, society may assume…well…how to put this delicately…”
“That I’m his mistress?”
Her candor seemed to shock them, but there was no point in continuing her claims about a business association. Neither of them would believe it now. Besides, they’d hear the gossip soon enough.
“And what if society does think I’m his mistress?” Christabel said, trying for a nonchalant tone. “I don’t care.”
Lady Draker’s eyes narrowed. “We merely want to make sure that you know what you’re about.”
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlLady Iversley added, “You don’t seem the type to…”
“Take a lover?” If she couldn’t convince these ladies, how would she ever convince Lord Stokely? “I suppose you think I’m too short and plain for a man like Mr. Byrne.”
“Not at all,” Lady Iversley said. “You’re too innocent.”
“And respectable,” Lady Draker added.
“You’d never even heard of an aphrodisiac,” Lady Iversley pointed out.
“I didn’t know the word,” Christabel admitted. “But I’m aware of the idea, having spent my life around soldiers. And as a widow, I have no attachments.”
She’d thought that would end the discussion. She was wrong.
“An interesting point,” Lady Iversley told Lady Draker. “Byrne has never shown interest in a widow before. He only likes women he can hand back to their husbands when he’s done.”
“So you think his interest might be more serious?” Lady Draker asked. “Heis taking her for a drive tomorrow, and that’s unusual—”
“Excuse me,” Christabel said, rising abruptly. Mention of the drive reminded her that she was supposed to order new gowns. But she had no clue where to go for inexpensive attire Mr. Byrne might find suitably fashionable for his mistress.
She must catch him before he left. Already she could hear him requesting his carriage, and these two ladies clearly didn’t needher here to continue this outrageous discussion. “I forgot to ask Mr. Byrne something. I’ll be back in a moment.” She hurried from the room. From the top of the stairs, she spotted him about to go out the door. “Wait, Mr. Byrne!” she called as she hurried down. He halted in the doorway. As she approached, he said dryly, “I thought you were going to call me Byrne.”
“If you mean to be informal, why not have me call you by your Christian name?”
A smile touched his lips. “Because only my mother ever called me Gavin.”
His poor, dead mother. The thought of anyone, even the wicked Mr. Byrne, being all alone in the world saddened her.
“Did you have something you wanted to ask?” he said.
“Oh, yes, I forgot. What dressmaker should I use for my new gowns? I have no idea who might specialize in the sort of gowns you…well—”
“Want my mistresses to wear?” His eyes twinkled. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring a dressmaker tomorrow to consult with you before our drive.”
“No one too expensive, mind you,” she said.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlHe cast her a speculative glance. “I think you’ll be pleased with my choice.” He lifted his hand to finger the high collar of her gown. “And one more thing, Christabel. Don’t wear black tomorrow.”
Chapter Three
A mistress must gain as much as she can
from any liaison, for who knows how long
her charms will last?
—Anonymous,Memoirs of a Mistress
