“They’re not going to rob us. It’s broad daylight for goodness sake.”
Abby stood and shielded her eyes. “We can do as you wish forone hour. I won’t have us coming in after your father. There’d be the devil to pay if he found out we disobeyed him.” That was an understatement. “You might be leaving for Court tomorrow,” Abby continued. “But I have to go back to your father’s house and live as his servant. I can’t afford his wrath.”
“Neither can I,” Madelaine muttered. The last fight she’d had with her mother was ever present in her mind. Fresh regret pierced her heart and made her rub at her chest as they walked toward the smell of gooey rolls.
“This trip has been a bloody waste,” Grey growled as they made their way out of Marie Vallendri’s townhome and into the bright sunshine of Golden Square. “Who am I going to shock my father with at dinner tonight since Miss Vallendri already has a lover?”
“How about that chit right there.” Gravenhurst pointed toward a band of gypsies who’d set up a shooting booth.
“I said I wanted to shock my father, not give him a death fit.”
Gravenhurst chuckled at Grey’s side. “Look closer. See the tall, pretty brunette? From my experience women with curly hair have rousing personalities to match, and the chit may be dressed as a proper lady, but she wouldn’t be in the art district if she was. She’s ripe for adventure. I say go pluck her.”
“I like your thinking.” Grey studied the woman. “She’s pretty enough but see how her mouth is puckered in disapproval. She’s not here of her choosing. Likely she’d faint if I propositioned her.”
“You may be right. Perhaps you should select a new mistress from Madame Landry’s women.”
“I think not,” Grey said, distracted by the sudden shouting from the group of gypsies. As he moved across the square and closer to the group he could hear wagers being bantered back and forth between the men and women alike. The excited buzz of the crowd was like a drug. He stopped by a sleek-haired gypsy with keen black eyes who struggled to take the money shoved at him while scribbling wagers in a little book.
“What’s the wager?”
The gypsy acknowledged Grey with an upward flick of his eyebrows and a sardonic smile. Grey instantly liked him. “The lady claims she can split the arrow lodged in the target over there.” The man pointed to a target so far away Grey had to squint to see it.
“Impossible. Unless the lady is built like a man. Which lady?” He glanced at the women gathered around the group. A few of them were thick in arm and might be able to do it if they’d been shooting all their lives.
“There. That fairghelwith the sun on her head.”
“The fair what with what on her head?” Grey reached into his coat and brought out a bag of coin.
“Come, I’ll show you.” The gypsy eyed Grey’s coin and then wound through the throng of people. “You going to wager?”
Was he ever. No need to go showing his excitement and get taken advantage of. “Yes, but I’ll see the lady before I decide for or against.”
“And your friend?”
Gravenhurst shook his head. “I’ll keep my funds in my pocket where they belong.”
Leave it to Gravenhurst to try to spoil the fun. Nothing could spoil this novelty though. Grey shrugged. “Sorry—?”
“Romany.” The gypsy stuck out his hand. Grey shook the man’s hand with enthusiasm. His wasted trip was just about to become profitable and entertaining. Toward the inner circle the man stopped behind a woman whose waves of flaxen hair tumbled invitingly down her back and marked her as the woman with the sun on her head. He chortled at the description. What a preposterous idea to imagine the petite creature standing in front of him had the strength to wield the bow and shoot the arrow true enough to split the one already lodged in the target.
She had a right lovely round backside, he’d give her that, but he’d not give her his confidence. He jingled the bag of money with a grin and held it toward Romany who’d begun taking bets again from the people around him. “I’ll put the whole lot on the lady’s failure.”
With a gasp, the woman whirled around and speared him with a dark look as well as nearly stabbing him with her arrow. “You’re mistaken to wager against me, sir.”
There was something invitingly erotic about the pale-skinned, bronze-eyed beauty wrapped in delicate, lilac silk. She looked dainty and helpless yet she wielded a weapon that could kill and boasted of skills no proper lady would dream of admitting. His lust awoke in a heartbeat. This was the woman he needed to prickle his father and push him toward agreeing to secure a commission. “I’ll be happy if you prove me wrong, yet your stature does make me question your abilities, Lady…?”
“Miss Prattle,” she responded with a conspiratorial look at the curly-headed brunette.
“What an unusual name.” He winked to prod her and was rewarded when her eyes rounded.
“Yes, well, Lord…?”
“Drivel.” He could barely contain his amusement.
She burst out laughing, the merry sound making him smile. “Your laugh is lovely,” he said. Instantly, she sobered, eyed him warily and turned her attention downward on her arrow. She was right to be guarded. His blood hummed in his ears with his desire. Forget his parent’s boring dinner. By tonight he’d have this chit in his bed. The contradiction she presented was irresistible. “I’ll put my money on youandgive you all my winnings to make up for offending you, but if you lose, you must accompany me to my townhouse.”
“She’ll not!” her friend exclaimed before the lady herself could reply. When the lady gave her friend a cool look, Grey had to work not to show his satisfaction. She was just as interested in him as he was in her. Today was turning out to be splendid, indeed.
