Free Time's Fool by Patricia Veryan Page A

you.”
    â€œI believe I have not asked it of you, sir. But it is thanks to August that my valuables were not taken. He was shot, were you aware?”
    â€œSo your fool of a coachman said.” The earl paced closer, watching her narrowly. “What he did not say, but that I discovered by merest chance, was that you called at Promontory Point today. You will be so good as to explain why.”
    Naomi’s nerves jumped, but she managed to answer with an assumption of nonchalance. “The weather was dreadful and our wheel about to fall off. I knew we were near the Point, so I instructed Roger to try for help there.”
    â€œVery plausible.” He smiled thinly. “And now pray let me hear the truth. You went hoping to see young Rossiter again. Still pant for him, do you? Have you no pride?”
    Her cheeks hot, she said, “I would think I have made it abundantly clear that I do not pant for him, as you rather inelegantly put it, sir! And my pride is intact, I promise you!”
    â€œI hope the same may be said for mine! Old Rossiter must have properly sniggered to see you go crawling—”
    â€œSir Mark was in Town, as I knew, else I’d never have set foot on the property!”
    â€œWell, that’s something, at least. Place closed up, eh? Then you got no help after all?”
    â€œWe did, in point of fact. Mr. Newby Rossiter was there.”
    â€œIndeed? You must have found much to talk about.”
    â€œI had—a few words with the gentleman.”
    â€œSince Newby Rossiter bears no resemblance to a gentleman, one can but hope they were very few.” Fully expecting a heated contradiction, the earl heard none. Intrigued, he sat on the arm of a great wing chair and said shrewdly, “Stole a kiss, did he? I’m not surprised. You invited it by calling on him unchaperoned.”
    â€œI did not call on him,” she declared, goaded. “At least, not knowingly! And as for a kiss, all the creature got was a broken toe.”
    He gave a shout of laughter. “Bravo! The young rake will know better than to maul a ginger tabby next time! Well, then. Are you ready to honour your wager?”
    â€œWager?” Puzzled, she said, “I do not follow you, sir.”
    â€œOh yes you do, Madam Trickery! Did I not tell you that despite the fascinations of the Low Countries, your gallant captain would now find it expedient to return home and try to mend his fences? Come now, never pretend you have forgot. You wagered me fifty guineas that he would not be so gauche. You must pay up, m’dear.”
    She stared at him. “Do you say … Gideon is—is back in England?”
    â€œWhat, didn’t Newby tell you? I’d have thought—” He checked, and said musingly, “Unless … Did the rogue come here before ever he showed his face to his sire, I wonder?” And with a scornful snort, “There’s desperation for you!”
    â€œHere?” she gasped. “Gideon was here? At Collington?”
    â€œYou may believe he was! The young varmint had the bare-faced gall to present himself on my doorstep. And soon got thrown off it, you may be sure!”
    â€œBut—but whatever did he say? Did you ask him—”
    â€œI asked him nothing. I refused to receive him!”
    â€œPapa! Whatever else, Gideon is well born and the son of your good friend. I cannot—”
    â€œMy former friend,” put in the earl dulcetly.
    â€œEven so, I cannot credit that you did not at least have the courtesy to explain matters.”
    â€œ Courtesy, is it? Much courtesy he has shown you, flaunting his wantons about, with not a scruple for the fact he was betrothed to you!”
    She said rather wearily, “I think he is not the first man to take a mistress, Papa.”
    â€œI collect you refer to my own reputation,” he snapped, bristling.
    Naomi looked at him steadily, for his numerous successes with