Page 25 of The Lady’s Deception

Bell choked and sputtered. Molly, who was nearest, gave her an unceremonious whack on the back.

Daphne, however, seized the moment, perhaps inspired by the teasing note in her brother’s voice. “Now that you mention it, Paris, we did have a lesson in zoology today.”

“Oh?”

“No, art,” squeaked Bell, her face contorted with worry.

“Mathematics and economics.” Rosamund forced herself to speak again. “I took the girls shopping.”

Bell gave an eager nod. “Miss Gorse bought a dress.”

Paris’s dark eyes sought her out. Was he displeased that she had taken his sisters without asking permission? Displeased by her purchase? But there was a flicker in the depths of his gaze that hinted at something quite other than displeasure. Along with a twist of his lips that wasn’t quite a smile. “Shoes, too, I hope.”

Her reply caught in her throat. How did he know? The faintest memory—or perhaps fantasy—sketched through her mind, of strong fingers caressing along her stocking-covered calf and over her ankle, slipping her ruined shoe from her foot.

“No,” Daphne answered for her, a hint of exasperation in her voice. “Just a dress.”

“And underthings,” added Bell.

He had not taken his eyes from her. Was it her imagination, or did they grow darker? She did not know how to read that expression, but it turned her insides to jelly, and she did not like—oh, twaddle. She might be lying to everyone else, but there was nothing to be gained by lying to herself. She did like the way it made her feel, though she knew she should not. Of all the foolish things she had done in the last three days, allowing herself to be attracted to Paris Burke was undoubtedly the most foolish of all.

“I did not wish to keep the girls from home too long, Mr. Burke.” Her cheeks stung with heat. “Any additional items I may require can wait for another occasion.”

“If I were you, Miss Gorse, I should get a bonnet next,” Daphne said, chewing as she spoke. Turning toward her brother, she added, “She wore that awful sunhat of Erica’s today, but thank God, now it’s ru—”

“I must remind you that a young lady does not talk with her mouth full.” Rosamund spoke across her, firmly but gently.

“Another English childrearing maxim, Miss Gorse?” Paris took a bite of bread. “I confess I’m curious about one thing, though,” he said after making a point of chewing and swallowing. “Where did the zoology lesson come into it?”

China and silver rattled against the tray on which Molly was stacking the serving dishes. “Och, you know Grafton Street, Mr. Paris. Beastly when there’s a crowd.”

Both of Paris’s brows lifted in patent disbelief. He once more looked from Daphne to Bell and last to Rosamund. Beneath the table, she could feel Bell’s legs bouncing with nervous energy. She scrambled for another line of conversation, anything to keep the secret of the rescued kitten. “Your sisters told me you had a meeting this morning, Mr. Burke. It went well, I hope?”

“Unexpectedly so.” His feverishly bright gaze pierced her, unblunted by the awkward angle between them. Was the meeting, or its subject, the cause of his strange energy? “Rather exciting stuff, if I do say so myself. A case of possible smuggling at—”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “That’s done it, Miss Gorse. Both he and Papa will talk about their cases for hours if you’ll let them. It’s always exciting and interesting and—”

“Forgive me,” he said, looking anything but chastened. “I am prone to forget that everyone does not share my fascination with the law. Dare I hope you do, Miss Gorse?”

A trap, surely. And she was teetering on the brink. If she blinked, drew breath, she would topple headlong into it. Did he suspect that she had deliberately sought out a man of his profession? Worse, did he know that she was fascinated by him?

Leaning back from the table as if from a precipice, she lifted her napkin from her lap and folded it beside her plate. “I have had no occasion to be involved with legal matters, Mr. Burke. Thankfully, I suppose most would say.”

“Regrettably,” he countered with an expression just shy of wicked.

She made herself look away. “If you’re quite finished, girls, we ought to excuse ourselves.”

It would not have surprised her in the least to learn that in the Burke household, the ladies lingered at table with the gentlemen. It would hardly have surprised her even to be told that they all, from youngest to oldest, took port together. But whatever their previous custom, the girls scrambled to their feet now, tired of dancing around the subject of how their day had been spent and eager to check on the kitten. “Yes, Miss.”

Paris stood too. “You’ll join me for tea, I hope, Miss Gorse? After the girls are in bed?”

Swallowing against temptation, she curtsied. “A generous offer, sir. Thank you. But I believe it would be best if I retired.”

As they neared the top of the house, they could hear the kitten mewing piteously. Daphne and Bell hiked their skirts to their knees and raced up the remaining stairs. Rosamund stumbled to follow them. In the girls’ bedroom, they found the little ball of fluff hanging from the curtain that covered their dressing area, unable to free itself to either climb higher or descend.

Daphne rushed to unhook its tiny, translucent claws, then gathered the complaining creature to her chest. “Oh, poor thing. You’re all right now.”

“I’ve been thinking. I want to call her Eileen.” Bell touched the soft fur, no longer gray, but silvery white after a thorough but careful wash with a rough scrap of cloth Molly had sacrificed for the purpose, dipped in a pan of warm water. “It means bright.”