Page 32 of Lord Ramsey's Red-Headed Ruin
He snorted in laughter. “For one so young, mademoiselle, you are ancient in wisdom.”
She drank from her own mug. “I am. You should make her notice you.”
“She does. Sadly.”
“But not enough, eh?” She put her mug on the counter and took his from his hand. “Come, then. My name is Josette, and we are new friends.”
She led him to the floor, and they joined a set. She was twenty at most, pretty and lively. At the end of their prancing, she curtsied and he bowed to her.
“I think we have done good work,” she said beneath her breath.
Beside him appeared Amber.
“You have a new friend,mon amour?” she asked, her face glowing from her own exertions.
“I do. Allow me to present Mademoiselle Josette, whose family name I did not learn. My Amber,” he said, forgetting himself as he caught the jealousy in Amber’s brown eyes. “My wife.”
Josette did the polite thing and offered a small nod of respect. “Your husband is a good dancer, madame. You should take care of him. He pines for you.”
Then she was gone.
Bah! That’s all I need. Someone else to work on her. What am I? A boy?
He spun away, furious.
“Wait! Ram!” Amber scurried to catch up with him and caught his arm.
“I’m going home.” He faced her but did not look down at her. “You must follow. But donottalk to me.”
“Why…why not?” She sounded like a fishwife. That pleased him, but he plodded onward.
No one else was in the lane to overhear how she called his name and ran toward him. “What did I do, Ram? Dance? You did, too!”
He did look down at her then. This ravishingly gorgeous creature in the sylvan shadows of the moon. She was everything he desired in a woman and was nothing he would ever have. Silently he cursed himself, then turned on his heel, and off he went.
He was three steps away when she tugged at his sleeve. “You’re being mean.”
He did not stop. “I am.”
“And pigheaded.”
He kept walking. “Notme.”
“Very well.Iam!Iam!”
He shook his head.Let her stew.He stormed down the lane that led to the Boyers’ house. Then he heard her running up behind him.
She pranced beside him. “I will not go to London.”
“Good for you.”
“I won’t live off you.”
That was a pitiful argument.“Fine.”
She ran in front of him and put out a hand to hold him back. “I’ll go to Sedan.”
“Sedan! Really? Why not say that louder and tell the world?” he groused, bitter that her statement solved only one of their problems.
