It was a low blow, Rob had to admit, but Blanchard took it well.
"Pah!" he cried, "What man wants to make war, when the other choice is to make love to a beautiful woman?"
Rob didn't disagree.
"I must be off," he said to Blanchard, "Do be sure to send on the bill."
With a nod to the Frenchman, Rob took his leave, absently rubbing his posterior as he made his way back to where he had tethered his horse.
He hadn't wanted to admit it to Blanchard, but the man had been right. Only a fool left a beautiful woman alone...
Chapter Five
Lady Julia was being wooed—and wooed most ardently.
Her suitor called daily, brought flowers, professed affection. Her suitor was handsome, well-dressed, and convivial. Her suitor was everything a young lady might wish for.
Except for the fact that he was not Lord Montague.
Lord Montague had disappeared.
In the days since he had promised Julia that their paths would cross again, Julia could count nought times that her day's activities had overlapped with those of Lord Montague.
Not that she was waiting for him, she told herself fiercely.
In the interim, Lord Pariseau had begun his courtship of her, and Julia had reluctantly convinced herself to take his suit seriously.
The earl was quite handsome, she had to admit. And he was kind, as evinced by his many and large donations to various London charities. Though, perhaps, if one was giving for the sake of giving, one should not brag so much about it, but it was better that Lord Pariseau was a man who boasted of his charitable largesse, rather than any of the other things men found to bray about.
Like gambling and carousing, Julia thought mutinously, as she recalled a rumour she had once heard of the Prince Regent wagering one of his palaces against him drinking more ale in one sitting than Lord Montague. Montague had won, and the papers had fawned over his generous decision to gift said palace back to the Regent, instead of castigating both men for partaking in such a foolish act in the first place.
Pah, men!
Julia frowned, and she must have made a noise, for Lord Pariseau glanced at her with concern.
"Is anything the matter?" he queried, assessing Julia for signs of injury, "Shall I tell the footman to raise the hood?"
"I saw a bee," Julia replied, as a way to explain her sudden sigh of irritation, "That is all."
"What bee could resist such a fair flower?" Lord Pariseau duly replied, in a manner that Julia supposed other ladies might find charming.
Not she. She found Lord Pariseau's platitudes almost scripted in their nature; delivered because he felt he ought, and not because of any great feeling.
Though at least he was here, Julia argued, as she tried to push away her distaste for the earl whose only offence was that he was utterly inoffensive. At least Lord Pariseau was present, unlike Montague, who had promised her the stars, then disappeared as soon as night fell.
From the other side of the carriage, Lady Cavendish preened happily, as though Lord Pariseau had paid her the compliment.
"Oh, you do say such romantic things, my lord," Lady Cavendish called loudly, so that those in the passing carriages might too hear of how romantic the earl was.
Julia held in a sigh; her mother was determined that the world should know of Julia's courtship, perhaps hoping that if enough papers reported on an impending marriage, said marriage might actually take place.
"Oh, I try," Lord Pariseau answered, looking—to Julia's eyes, at least—a tad smug.
Therein lay the problem, Julia thought with a frown; Lord Pariseau tried, and tried a tad too hard for her liking. Julia could not imagine the earl clambering up to her balcony, to deliver her a kiss goodnight, nor could she ever imagine him promising her that he would one day make her fly...
That is because he is reliable, the sensible part of Julia whispered waspishly. He is not some silver-tongued knave, wishing to steal a kiss; he is a man who wishes to marry you.
Fearing that she was right, Julia attempted to push aside her innate disinterest in Pariseau and focused her attentions on being as amenable as possible for the remainder of the carriage ride.
