Page 4 of Lady, Behave
The duchess went on. “Your grandfather was ‘Monsieur de la Voleur de Grand Chemin.’”
Addy noticed that the duchess had not asked a question but simply made a declaration. To cover any misinterpretation, Addy offered her own translation of Grandpapa’s famous moniker. “The valet of the great road.”
From the corner of the room, Fifi broke into a coughing fit.
Addy shot her a quelling look. The French woman always hated Addy’s translations of her language, especially her grandfather’s funny little title.
“A valet, you say?” the duchess tittered.
“Oui, Grandpapa was a very fine fellow. We miss him terribly.”
“I’m sure you do,” pronounced the woman with a tight twist of her lips. “I’m sure you do.”
Silence descended over them all.
Addy tapped her toe and focused on the door to the back room.
Heath stared at Addy.
His mother gazed about the shop.
The duchess’s maid and Fifi glared at each other.
Tense minutes later, Mister Alworth emerged from his back room with two vials in hand. The first, he sold to the Duchess of Stonegage, who immediately thanked him and bid all in the shop good day.
As the woman turned to leave, her son offered his thanks to Alworth. To Addy, he offered an apologetic smile and a polite bow. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Adelaide. I hope we meet again very soon.”
“As do I, my lord.” She dipped in a small curtsy and prayed she’d see him soon, somewhere. When that occurred, she prayed he’d not be in the presence of his disapproving mother.
Chapter Two
Heath swirled hiswhisky and considered the choice he was about to make. The little blonde who stood across the ballroom was definitely to his taste. Smart and feminine. He liked a woman who added verve and style to the mix. Yesterday morning in that shop in the Lanes, Miss Adelaide Devereaux had proven she had pluck. She’d stood upright even after his mother took a bristle to her with her inimitable, stuffy ways. If he pursued their acquaintance, he’d send notice to Society he hunted for a wife to change his nickname from ‘Blood’ to ‘Shackled.’
He took a swig of his drink and turned to his friend. “Join me in dancing with the ladies, will you, Martindale?”
The fellow with whom Heath had spent nearly three years in the French prison of Verdun managed a smile. “Dancing? Who has time?”
“I say, old fellow, you must give over examining the men at this party and take a good look at the finer opportunities!”
Felix Rowlandson, who had newly assumed his father’s title of earl, was focused on revenging his imprisonment. The man made yet another excuse to avoid fun. His usual one was that he was seeking the person who had sent him and his father to the notice of the French gendarme in eighteen o-three.
Heath wished to lighten the mood of his friend, who had been at his particular quest for more than a decade. “Without a bit of fun, you’ll lose your edge, old man.”
Martindale took a long survey of the room filled with lovely young women. “Your version of fun takes too much time and, if pursued properly, would take too much of my money to truly make me happy.”
“Oh, I dunno. I’d gladly spend my wealth on a fine bit of muslin if she devoted her wits to my welfare.”Miss Adelaide, for example. A Diamond by her looks. A canny bit by her actions.“Would you possibly interest yourself in three ladies who appear to be the mirror image of each other?”
Heath narrowed his gaze on a set of three young women standing with an older one in the far corner. Adelaide stood with them, two of whom were so near her good looks that they had to be sisters. One had golden tresses. One, red-gold. And the other woman with them was their chaperone, the good-looking society maven, Lady William Downs.
“One of them,” Martindale admitted, “is quite fetching.”
“Which?” asked Heath, hoping his friend favored one of the others and not his charming Adelaide.
“The one in peach.”
“I prefer the one in pink.”
“She’s the spitting image of their mother,” Lex offered.
