Free Kate Moore by An Improper Widow Page B

me, Miss . . . Lacy, but can you read this title for me? I can’t quite make it out without my eyeglasses.”
    She whirled to face him, and he knew he was smiling idiotically.
    “You,” she whispered. “I’m so glad. I thought we would never make it here.”
    “Was it so difficult to manage?”
    “You have no idea. Mama and Susannah have insisted on so many calls and errands. And,” she confided, “to have pressed Susannah when she knows I am not at all bookish would have made her quite suspect my motives.”
    “She doesn’t suspect?”
    Miss Lacy glanced over her shoulder. “Not at all.”
    “Good,” he said.
    A clerk approached to move the ladder, and Kirby put aside his book and offered his arm to Miss Lacy. “Come along, miss,” he said in an avuncular tone. “Let’s find that book you mentioned.”
    “I looked for you at the Shalfords’ ball,” she confided when they had passed beyond the clerk.
    He stopped and turned so that he could keep an eye upon her cousin on the opposite side of the great circular counter.
    “Would you have danced with me?” he asked, drawing another book from the shelves and opening it.
    “Of course.”
    “Though we’ve not been properly introduced?” He found the title page.
    “I suppose you think me overbold or foolish,” she said, looking down for the first time in their conversation.
    With two gloved fingers he gently lifted her chin. “Nae,” he said. “Did you enjoy the ball?”
    “I met a great many gentlemen,” she told him. “Including Lord Warne.” Her eyes searched his face.
    “Did you tell him about our meeting?” he asked, studying the book in his hand as a clerk passed.
    “You asked me not to,” she said, obviously offended that he would suggest it, but ill at ease and toying with her bonnet strings. After a pause she admitted, “He knows you gave me his card.”
    “That’s good. That’s what I wanted him to know.”
    “Am I never to see you without a disguise?” she asked.
    “I don’t know,” he answered. “Would you mind very much if we know each other just for awhile?”
    “You are only amusing yourself with me then,” she protested.
    “Hardly!” The word came out more strongly than he’d intended. “But I can make no promises to you. I . . . I am like a soldier going off to war. I don’t know what may happen to me.”
    “Will you hold up more coaches?”
    “Nae,” he said, and laughed when her face fell. “But I plan to do a few things more daring still.” He saw the cousin lift her head and look their way. “Take this book,” he ordered, pushing the fat volume into her hands. “Start toward your cousin.” He stepped back and faced the shelves, allowing himself to watch Miss Lacy with a side glance.
    She turned, held up the book, and smiled across the room at the other woman.
    “How will I see you again?” she asked, her head slightly tilted his way.
    “What are your engagements?” he whispered to her back. “I can find you if I know.”
    “Tonight, a dinner. Tomorrow, the theatre. Wednesday, Almack’s, of course. And Saturday another ball, but I don’t know where.”
    “I’ll find you,” he told her and began to hobble away without looking back.
    “Susannah, look what I’ve found,” he heard her say. “
The Spanish Brothers.
Don’t you think that sounds intriguing?”
    ***
    Lady Lacy’s regular at-home day brought two of Uncle John’s acceptable suitors to the blue and gold drawing room, but Susannah’s efforts to encourage Juliet to notice them failed miserably.
    Lord Brentwood called and soon found himself addressing an empty chair. Lord Atwell, a second gentleman from Uncle John’s list, presented himself with little more success. A widower with two daughters, and a passion for politics, he was lean with thinning hair, pale blue eyes, and sharp features. Susannah found him intelligent and informative, though she suspected he rather failed to see any point of view but his own. However,