Page 37 of A Story of Love

“So you are,” he said, dropping the subject. “Tell me, why have you been ignoring me these past few weeks? I’ve not seen you peering in my bedroom window, and the servants at Grandon House and those at The King’s Purse have not spotted you rooting through the rubbish bins.”

She pulled a face but did not look especially guilty. “I suppose Mr. Gregg told you about that.”

Fast didn’t tell her that he, too, had watched her climbing around in the big wooden dustbin behind Grandon House on one memorable occasion.

“It’s making me nervous that you’ve become so scarce of late.”

“Have you considered that I’ve not been scarce at all? That I’ve merely honed my skills and you haven’t noticed that I’ve been lurking outside your window?”

“I can’t imagine ever not noticing you, Miss Fontenot.”

She gave another of her disbelieving snorts. “Oh, do leave off, my lord. Save your pretty words for somebody who might be taken in by them.”

He grinned. “Tell me about yourself, Miss Fontenot.”

“Why should I?”

“You know so much about me.” He cocked his head. “Please don’t make me come dig through your rubbish bin.”

She laughed. “No, I wouldn’t want that. Our housekeeper would chase you off with a broom and a few choice words. What do you want to know about me?”

“Where are you from? Do you have family? How is it that you came to be living with Lady Sedgewick? There, that should be enough to get started.

“I’m from a small village outside Liskeard. My parents died when I was very young, and my older brother raised me. He is a vicar and is married to a lovely woman and they have five daughters.”

“Tell me about your brother.”

“What about him?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“So suspicious! I am just making pleasant conversation, Miss Fontenot. That is what people do when they dance.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced, but said, “His name is Jeremy and he is older by more than ten years. I was an afterthought to my parents.”

“But one I’m sure they were very grateful for.”

“How gallant you are, my lord.”

“You make that easy, Miss Fontenot.” He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a hard look. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“You earned it. Tell me about your family, my lord.”

“I would have thought you ferreted out all my details in your visits to my grandfather’s estates. Yes,” he said at her startled look, “I know you visited both our family seat and the property in Scotland. Tell me, did you find what you were looking for?”

“If you know of my visits then I daresay you know the answer to that question, too. Your people are very loyal to you.”

“They are my grandfather’s people.”

“The loyalty I encountered was directed toward you, not your grandfather.”

“Do I detect a note of surprise that I might engender loyalty?”

“You’re so suspicious, my lord. We are just conversing. It is what normal people do when they dance,” she said, mimicking him so accurately it made him smile.

“Fair enough. To answer your question, only Percy and I survived. My mother had numerous miscarriages before we were born, but there were no attempts afterward as my father had done his duty and produced his heir and spare in one go.”

“His duty? How arduous a man’s part is in childbirth! What about her duty?”

He barked a laugh, the noise loud enough to be heard over the music. Several other couples glanced their way. One of them was Moreland, who was dancing with the lovely young Miss Pascoe.