Page 5 of Ravishing Camille
“Are you abroad for a long time?” Pierce’s father was always keen to meet other entrepreneurs.
“A few weeks here in London, yes.” Lee spoke with a British accent.
Pierce could see the wheels turning in both his father’s and Camille’s heads. Pierce could bet that his father wanted to learn more about the man’s business. Camille wanted to learn more about the man’s background.
“Then I visit Paris and Berlin for a few weeks each before I return here, then sail to New York.”
Killian grinned. “If you are here in Southhampton for a few days, we would like to have you to our house in Brighton for dinner.”
“I am most appreciative.” He glanced to one side as his young Chinese manservant presented himself for instructions for his luggage. “Perhaps I might come another time as I am on a train to London this afternoon.”
“We will see you in the city then,” Camille chimed in. “A few of the family go up to town soon and we would like to show you about!”
A flash of amusement lit Lee’s deep blue eyes. He was used to the feisty western women in Shanghai International Quarters who took charge of social engagements—and often, business too.
Pierce grinned. “Lee and I spoke of this on board. He stays at the Langham Hotel in town.”
“Thank you for the invitation. I accept and look forward to it.”
Pierce was pleased. “I told Lee that we’d make reservations for the theatre.”
“Superb!” Camille was her industrious self. “If you like, we’ll go dancing, too.”
Lee chuckled. “In Shanghai, we have Wednesday dance parties. Strauss is a favorite of mine. I like to waltz. Do you waltz, Miss Bereston?”
“I certainly do.” Camille clasped her hands together, aglow with admiration. “In London, we do it at home. But in Paris, they do it in the streets. We will see you enjoying yourself, Mister Macfarlane. In no time, I dare say, sir, you will be a sensation.”
“I hope not too much! I have negotiations to engage in.”
“Waltzing is like negotiating, is it not?” she asked, an impish twinkle in her devilish dark eyes. “One must navigate the floor with precision and grace in time with the movement of the spheres.”
“So true, Miss Bereston!” Lee appreciated a woman who could steer a conversation with humor and complexity. Such a good time talking to a woman, Lee had not had in months. And Pierce knew it to be true. The two of them had lost a lady whom they both adored only ten months ago. Neither had yet gotten over her death.
“Thank you for the invitations. I look forward to seeing you again.” Lee went off toward his own hired hack.
“Intriguing man,” Killian said. “You’ve known him long?”
“Five years. One of the most successful men in Shanghai. He speaks His own dialect of Ningpo but also formal Mandarin. His English, as you heard, is superb. And he speaks better French than I could ever manage. And yes, he is Chinese. One quarter, to be precise.”
They settled into the carriage, he backward, as his father and Camille took the seat facing him.
“Tell me about everyone,” he urged his father. “All well, I do hope.”
“Liv has had a summer cold and decided to stay home with the boys,” his father said of his wife of eleven years. “Liam and Dylan fought the sniffles last week. Hence, they could not come, but are bursting at the seams to reacquaint themselves with their older brother.”
“And Ada?” His youngest sister lived in Brighton, minutes from his father and step-mother Liv’s home. Married to Lord Victor Cole who was a member of Parliament, Ada was pregnant with twins.
“She is very selective about where she goes,” Killian said. “These babies are slowing her down.”
“As must her brood of three boys,” he added.
“She longs for girls this time,” Camille offered.
“A new challenge for her,” Pierce said and crossed one leg over the other. “She’s like a steam engine, never stops.”
That brought a smile to Camille’s lips. “She’s as popular as Victor in his borough. They love her.”
“No surprise there. She probably tells the ladies each chance she gets that she favors women’s rights.”
