Page 38 of Rose and the Rogue
“Ah, so that accounts for it,” he said quietly.
“Accounts for what?” she asked, suddenly wary. She’d been snubbed more than once when people learned that her class was not quite the same as her cousin’s.
“Your very delightful lack of pretension. Most of the young ladies I encounter in London are about as grounded as a butterfly, with the same level of intelligence. You are different, and I like it.”
“I’m not sure if that was a backhanded compliment, but I’ll pretend to be grateful to be singled out as a caterpillar among butterflies.”
“Never a lowly caterpillar, Miss St. George. A dragon. Formidable and ready to strike whenever a fool wanders too close.”
Poppy tried not to be flattered, but it was the first time a man called her a dragon (and with such admiration in his eyes), and she felt as if he might be the first man to have actually seen her as she was.
“You’re not afraid I’ll breathe fire on you?” she asked.
“I’m known to risk a lot when the reward is worth it.”
“And this was the man who clambered up a tree to rescue a cat Rose heard mewing,” Poppy said with a laugh.
“How are the kittens?” he asked, seeming to really care about the answer. “Adjusting to life inside walls?”
“Yes, they’re settling in well. They even sleep with us.”
“Lucky them.”
Poppy shot him a narrow-eyed glance, only to be met with a wide-eyed innocent expression that she didn’t believe for a moment.
Carlos said, “I had a cat once, back home. She just wandered into the house one day, so I assumed she wanted to stay for a while. Very pretty little black cat.”
“What was she named?”
“I christened her Señorita Caterina Gitana de la Guerra. Sadly, she was not enamored of the ocean. I took her on board a few times, because it’s good to have a mouser on a ship. But Gitana wailed the whole journey, so I had to give the notion up. She lives out her days at the family estate. Too bad, I would have enjoyed the company. Do you like the ocean?” he asked suddenly.
“No idea. I’ve never been on anything bigger than a rowboat,” Poppy admitted. “And anyway, I’m not a mouser.”
He grinned at her. “But you do have claws.”
“As my family is all too apt to remind me,” she said, looking away.
“I’m not afraid of a few scratches,” he replied.
Poppy inhaled, caught by his gaze. It would be easy to like him, if he weren’t so vexing. He was an interesting conversationalist, all right, and a good diversion from ordinary…
Diversion. Suddenly Poppy inhaled, and wrenched her elbow out of his hand. “Oh, my goodness, what time is it?”
* * * *
While Carlos did his best to keep Poppy occupied for a little while, Adrian seized his precious few moments alone with Rose.
“Miss Blake, evening becomes you.”
“Thank you, sir.” Rosalind blushed so much that he could see it in the twilight.
Adrian stepped closer, mindful of the few other people in the area. He started walking a little ways ahead, where a stand of trees divided the path, with the narrower left-hand path heavily shielded from any prying eyes. “Did my gifts find favor with you?” he asked, guiding her to the more secluded location.
“Oh, those anonymous gifts were from you?” she asked with a smile. “Of course I liked them. They were all delightful.”
“I worried that you might think they came from another suitor, but I feared that adding my name to them would be folly.”
“My mother objected to me having the lilies in my room, but I prevailed.” She laughed softly. “Though any flower would have been too suggestive for her taste.”
