An Innocent Proposal. Helen Dickson
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strawberry-blonde hair falling in a luxurious, shining tumble over her shoulders. Ever since he had first seen her he had wanted her, and meant to have her, her face never drifting from his mind’s eye.
“Mr Fraser is suffering no ill effects after last night, I hope?” he enquired in a bored, matter-of-fact way, as if it were of no consequence that James had lost his entire fortune to him.
Anger seared through Louisa like a hot knife at the lightness with which he spoke, but her pride forbade her to tell him of the devastation his game of cards with James had brought them. With a superhuman effort she managed to smile sweetly up at him.
“It is not the first time James has lost at cards, Lord Dunstan, and I am quite certain it will not be the last.”
“You have known each other long, Miss Divine—you and Mr Fraser?”
Louisa cringed when he addressed her as Miss Divine, thinking it a silly name and quite ridiculous, but a peculiar instinct born and bred in her told her not to let him know she was James’s sister. Let him continue to think she was his paramour; it was of no concern to her.
“Yes—quite some time,” she answered.
“And Sir Charles Meredith? It would appear you have an admirer in that gentleman. Do you know him well?”
“Why, no. In fact I do not know him at all. We had not met before last night,” Louisa told him. She saw that he was watching her closely, giving her the distinct impression that he was more concerned with how well she knew Sir Charles than how close she was to James, and making her wonder once again what could have happened to cause so much dislike between himself and Sir Charles Meredith. But she pushed the matter away, telling herself that no matter how unpleasant the situation might be that existed between the two men, it was their business and had absolutely nothing to do with her. She had troubles enough of her own without bothering her head about that.
Alistair nodded slightly. “I see. Then if, as you say, he is a stranger to you, take my advice and be very careful before becoming better acquainted with him. Do not allow yourself to be taken in by him. Oh, he can be charming and persuasive, I grant you, but he is not what he seems.”
Louisa gave him a cool stare. “Thank you, Lord Dunstan,” she said curtly, “but your opinion does not interest me. I choose my own friends.”
Alistair’s answer to this was a faintly sardonic smile. “Of course. Tell me, are you here alone today?”
“Yes. I enjoy browsing among the bookshelves. Besides, James is not a reader.”
“And you are?”
“Yes, very much so. Are you here to purchase a book yourself, Lord Dunstan?”
“No. I am here to see an acquaintance of mine on the Morning Chronicle. We are to meet in the Mitre tavern further along. I happened to be passing when I saw you enter the shop. I was curious. I thought I recognised you. I do recall seeing you once before, albeit some time ago,” he said with a crooked grin, full of charm. “Or perhaps I should say twice?”
Louisa looked at him sharply, having recognised his features at first glance the previous evening. But she was still unable to remember where.
“Let me enlighten you. The first time was at Vauxhall Gardens—some two months ago, as I recall—when you were in the company of Mr Fraser and Mr Hacket. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, as I remember.”
Instantly Louisa recalled the occasion in Vauxhall Gardens, when James had insisted upon taking her there to celebrate her birthday, and she flushed, feeling defenceless suddenly when her memory of that night came flooding back. At last she recalled where she had seen Lord Dunstan before, remembering how he had stood and watched her for some considerable time while she had danced with Timothy and James. The fact that he had observed her so clearly—and recalling how she had unashamedly returned his bold stare, and the pleasure she had derived from it—swamped her with mortification and embarrassment.
Quickly she composed her features, giving Lord Dunstan no indication of how much her recollection of that occasion affected her, but he was not deceived, being well schooled in the way women’s minds worked, and he was secretly amused by it.
“Isn’t that what one’s supposed to do when visiting the pleasure gardens, Lord Dunstan?” Louisa replied a little breathlessly. “It was my birthday, and James took me there as a special treat. But I must say that I am flattered to think you even remember seeing me there amongst all the other ladies present.”
“I never forget a beautiful face, Miss Divine, especially not when it happens to be as lovely as yours,” he complimented, enjoying the slight unease this seemed to cause her. “The second time I saw you was the morning after at St Paul’s Church in Covent Garden,” he went on. “I remember how intent you were on your devotions, how concentrated.”
Louisa also recalled seeing him in St Paul’s Church, which was close to Henrietta Street. Feeling the need of prayer that day, after a bitter and heated exchange with James the previous evening on their return from Vauxhall Gardens, when he had stormed out of the house to visit his club, she had attended the service, finding the small church an oasis of peace.
“Isn’t everyone when they go to church, Lord Dunstan?” she answered, thinking how quickly she had forgotten him because of what had followed with James. “Otherwise what is the point in going at all? Although it is clear to me you were not as intent on your own devotions if you allowed your attention to stray to me.
“However, I am flattered to learn that I made such a distinct impression on you, causing you to remember me after two whole months—which is more than can be said of myself. I confess that when I saw you yesterday your face did seem a trifle familiar, but I could not recall where I might have seen you.”
“Which tells me you were not as impressed by me as I was by you.” He chuckled, unoffended.
“Most of the ladies I meet are more than eager to be amiable to me because of who I am, but you have the unique distinction of being the only woman I have ever met who is honest enough to tell me to my face that, having met me, she does not remember me.”
“Really? And you are not put out?” Louisa asked drily, thinking that what he said must be true; that if he was as wealthy as Timothy had said he was—and with his kind of looks—he must have women falling at his feet like dominoes in a row, all rendered quite helpless when confronted by his charm and allure.
“Not in the slightest. In fact I find it a refreshing change. Tell me, do you often worship at St Paul’s Church?”
“No. Only on the odd occasion when I happen to be in London—when I find the need to atone for my sins,” she said softly, her eyes teasing, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Which was, perhaps, your own reason for being there, Lord Dunstan?”
He smiled mischievously. “What else? And are you a frequent visitor to Brewster’s bookshop?”
“No,” she answered, suddenly beginning to feel slightly uneasy. She did not like the way he had followed her inside Mr Brewster’s bookshop, nor did she like his easy manner and the steady, unsettling gaze of his penetrating blue eyes. He was the most lethally attractive man she had ever met, and she would have to take care not to be drawn in by him. Swiftly she raised her defences. “I do not pretend to be knowledgeable about books, but I do enjoy reading. You seem surprised, Lord Dunstan?”
His handsome mouth curved into a slight smile. “I can imagine you in many places, but a bookshop is not one of them—unless, of course, you are on the stage and looking for some material to do with a play,” he said, sounding casual, his eyes filled with idle speculation as he studied her closely.
“No,” Louisa answered calmly, knowing he was fishing for information about her, but preferring to keep him guessing. The less he knew about her, the better she would feel.
He frowned. “You are a complete contradiction in terms of appearance.”
“A contradiction?”