Page 60 of Gallant Waif
Jack turned his head. “What is it?”
Francis shook his head in amusement. “Never thought I’d see you setting up as a milliner.”
“What the hell do you…? Oh, that. Stubble it, will you?” mumbled Jack.
But Francis had no intention of dropping it. “It was an ugly enough cap, to be sure, and it made that pretty little thing look like a dowdy, but you acted as if she deliberately wore it to annoy you.”
Jack harrumphed. “She did.”
“Oho…so it’s like that, is it?”
Jack glowered. “Like what? She’s my grandmother’s ward, that’s all.”
“And naturally you must supervise her headgear,” agreed Francis sympathetically.
“She was foisted on me by that meddlesome old witch. I had no choice in the matter.”
“Ahh.” Francis nodded his head wisely.
“Ahh nothing!” snapped Jack. “You have added two and two and come up with five. The girl means nothing to me. She’s a damned nuisance, if you want to know the truth!”
“Mmm,” agreed Francis infuriatingly.
Jack ground his teeth. “Damn your eyes, Francis.”
His friend chuckled softly. After a few minutes he spoke again. “Well, dear boy, since you have no interest in little Miss Farleigh, you’ll have no objection if I pursue her myself.”
Jack wrenched his horse to a halt, slewed round in the saddle and glared at his friend. “What the devil do you mean by that? You’ll do nothing of the sort. She…she’s my grandmother’s ward.”
Francis’s eyebrows rose extravagantly at his tone. “I would court her honourably, of course—you could have no objection to that.”
Jack had dozens of objections, but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. It was one thing to urge Kate to take up his grandmother’s offer and go to London to find herself a husband. Jack had envisaged some gentle, fatherly soul who would pamper Kate and smother her in luxury. He glanced at his friend and frowned. Not a handsome, worldly, elegant…rake!
“Why the devil would you be wanting to court someone like Kate?” he demanded. “Dammit, man, you’re a notorious rake!”
“A notorious rake?” Francis laughed. “And what of you, Jack? The man who put all the matchmaking mamas in a flutter to protect their chicks—Ah, no, you settled down, didn’t you? The Divine Julia. Whatever happened to her?” He noticed Jack’s frown and clucked sympathetically. “Still carrying a torch, are you? Well, I can see how little Kate, charming as she is, could not compare with the fair Julia.”
“I’m not carrying a torch and I will thank you not to mention Kate’s name and hers in the same breath.”
Francis smiled in spurious sympathy. “Ah, so the goddess is still enshrined in your heart, then?”
“The goddess, as you so mistakenly call her, is nothing but a shallow, self-centred harpy, and if you think for one minute, Francis, that she…she…” Jack was so angry, he was lost for words. “If you don’t know that Julia Davenport is not worth Kate Farleigh’s little finger, then…then…I don’t know what you are,” he finished lamely.
Francis controlled his urge to grin. Jack was responding beautifully. “No need to convince me, old man. I was never one of the Davenport’s admirers. I am the one, don’t forget, who may court little Miss Farleigh with a view to marriage.”
Jack gritted his teeth. His friend’s habit of referring to Kate as “little Miss Farleigh’ was starting to annoy him very much. “Never thought you’d be one for parson’s mousetrap. What’s brought it on?”
“Oh, well, there comes a time in a chap’s life when it’s time to settle down. I’ve been keeping my eyes open for a while now and somehow the idea of one of the schoolgirls on the marriage mart doesn’t really appeal. A man wants to settle down with a woman who’ll make him comfortable, a woman of sense.”
Jack was revolted by this description of Kate. “It sounds to me like you are more interested in taking a comfortable old chair to wife,” he said sourly.
Francis chuckled. “No, indeed. I most certainly don’t think of Miss Farleigh as a comfortable old chair. Why, the very notion is offensive.” He paused delicately. “Ah, perhaps you haven’t noticed, old man, but little Miss Farleigh is quite a pretty little thing, with an eminently kissable mouth. Even that smut of flour on her nose this morning looked quite delicious.”
He ignored Jack’s growl.
“And have you noticed her dimple? It hardly ever appears, but when it does it’s utterly charming. Add to that her extraordinary voice and her delightful laugh, and you have in one small package a very cosy armful indeed, very cosy.”
Jack was appalled at the vision his words conjured up. Kate nestled in Francis’s arms. He felt positively sick. “You know she has not a penny in the world.”
