His Wicked Charm. Candace Camp
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“My promise?” Lilah asked warily.
“Why, yes, you told my nieces you would accompany us for ices at Gunter’s and a walk in the park.” He adopted a doleful expression. “Poor Brigid and Athena, they will be sorely disappointed.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Lilah exclaimed in equally stagy tones, one hand to her heart. Clearly her aunt was right: Con Moreland was a bad influence. “We cannot have that, now, can we? Of course, we must go. I am so sorry to have forgotten.” She stood up and turned to Sir Jasper. “I do hope you will forgive me, Cousin Jasper. I must leave. Brigid and Athena are such adorable little moppets.” They were also wild as March hares, but Lilah saw no reason to mention that. She barely waited for Sir Jasper’s polite agreement before turning to Con. “Just let me fetch my hat and give the butler a message for my aunt.”
She hurried out the door, the men trailing after her. Sir Jasper walked with them to the street, and Lilah feared that he might decide to stroll along with them. She turned to him, holding out her hand and saying, “Goodbye, Cousin Jasper. It was good to speak with you.”
He could do little but take his leave of them. “Good day. I am sure I will see you again soon, Cousin Delilah.”
Blast the man. He had called her by her full name. She sneaked a sideways glance at Con. Of course he would catch that. Lilah pivoted and started off at a quick pace, but Con kept up with her easily. His eyes brimming with laughter, his tone rich with wicked delight, he said, “Delilah? Your name is Delilah?”
Lilah let out a huff of annoyance. “Yes. It is. You’re a fine one to talk…Constantine.”
He chuckled. “I rather like being an emperor.”
“It’s a good deal less embarrassing than being a…a…”
“Temptress?” He grinned. “Seductress?”
She gave him a freezing look, her former good humor with him gone. “Deceiver. Liar. Betrayer.”
“You’re none of those things. Though I imagine you could bring a man to his knees.” When she made no answer, he went on meditatively, “I should probably be afraid of you. But I believe I’ll risk it.”
“You are a perfectly annoying man.”
“So you’ve told me. It’s a wonder you’re willing to go anywhere with me.”
“I was in desperate straits.”
He laughed. “I could tell. Was he about to ask for your hand?”
Lilah let out a gusty sigh, and the knot she hadn’t even realized was in her chest loosened. She slowed her steps. “I didn’t want to risk it.”
“I should think not. I’m surprised you didn’t ward him off with a chaperone. There are several old ladies in my family whom I would be happy to lend you.”
“Thank you, but that’s not necessary. Ordinarily my aunt is there. But I believe she hoped Sir Jasper would make an offer.”
“She favors his suit.”
“Yes. She thinks it would be a most appropriate marriage.”
“Egad.”
“Just so. It would be convenient.”
“I can’t see how. He seemed a dead bore.”
“He inherited my father’s title. But Father left the main house to me. It’s the family seat—the Holcutts have owned it for ages. So marrying him would reunite the estate and the title. Everything would be in the direct line once again.”
“That scarcely seems a reason to marry.”
“Not in my opinion. Though perhaps he is less stiff once one gets to know him.”
Con frowned. “Don’t let them talk you into accepting him. It would be a terrible waste,” he said, his voice unaccustomedly serious.
Lilah glanced at him, surprised. “I would have thought you’d say the two of us were well matched.”
“Lord, no. You are aggravating but never boring.” He grinned. “I am always available to chase off suitors, should you need me.”
A laugh bubbled up out of her throat. “You seemed quite adept at it. Though I must say you overdid it. Eyes as blue as the sky?”
“In my defense, I was unprepared. But you are right, your eyes are more the color of the ocean.” His irrepressible grin flashed. “A stormy ocean.”
“Nor are they like stars in the velvet sky. And hair like the sunset? Really, now…”
“But that is the truth.” His eyes went to her hair, his expression changing subtly. “Your hair is beautiful. It’s what first drew my eye.”
“I thought that was my lilac stockings,” Lilah said drily, struggling to ignore the hot, jittery feeling the look on his face evoked in her.
“No. Your lilac stockings were why I followed you. Your hair was why I was I watching you closely enough to spy your lilac stockings.”
“You have no absolutely no shame, do you?”
“I’m sure I must. Somewhere.”
“It’s well hidden.”
Con turned into a small park, little more than an oasis of grass and a few trees in the midst of the city, and led her to a wrought iron bench in the shade of one of the trees. She sat down, and Con took his seat beside her, his expression so serious it raised a faint twinge of alarm in Lilah.
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