Free The Romany Heiress by Nikki Poppen Page A

Giles stepped back from Cate and released his
grip on her slender waist. For a man who prided himself on avoiding such unpleasant entanglements, he’d
done a poor job of it over the last eighteen hours.
    Candice Wetherby, the Lady FoxHaughton, swept
forward regally and planted herself on Giles’s right side
with a proprietary air.
    “Spelthorne, there you are. I knew you’d be bringing
up the back, dedicated as you are to seeing to your
guests’ comforts first.” As always, she was attired impeccably from the excellent cut of her apple-green muslin walking dress to the tips of her extravagant leather half
boots, dyed to match the gown.

    Usually Giles admired her modish appearance, but
the sight of her stylish perfection did not stir the requisite appreciation within him. Today she looked like a
beautifully dressed shell against the backdrop of the
agitated yet animated conversation he’d held with Cate
on the drive.
    Of course the idea that she was a shell wasn’t true.
She was a leading political hostess and intelligent in
her own right. It was those qualities along with her
sense of style that had originally brought her to his attention. Lady FoxHaughton was not a vacuous shell of
a woman, and he’d do well to remember it.
    “Lady Cate is it?” The glint in her sharp hazel eyes
warned she was sharpening her claws and her tongue.
All her attention was riveted on his dubious guest. “We
did not get to converse in the hall before departing. Tell
me how you’ve come to know Spelthorne”
    It took all of Giles’s self control not to leap into the
conversation and answer on Cate’s behalf. But he realized to do so would put Candice on the scent more
surely than anything else he could devise.
    Cate did not disappoint. She looked Lady FoxHaughton in the eye and smiled conversationally. “I am
Lady Cate Winthrop. My carriage broke down so I did
not arrive until very late last evening.”
    Giles watched Candice take in the information and
process it behind shrewd, knowing eyes. “How terrible for you, my dear,” Candice sympathized, but Giles wasn’t
fooled for a moment. “Winthrop you say? That would be
Spelthorne’s mother’s name”

    He had wanted to avoid this. Candice had practically
memorized DeBrett’s peerage right down to the most
minor of baronets. He did not doubt she’d paid special
attention to the Spelthorne entry.
    She tapped a long gloved finger against her chin
thoughtfully. “So you must be a cousin of sorts?”
    “Yes,” Cate offered.
    “Yes? Is that all?” Candice pressed much to Giles’s
dislike. “There are all sorts of cousins-first cousins,
second cousins, kissing cousins.” She laughed at her little joke, but Giles heard the ice beneath it.
    What did she know? He regretted putting her room
so close to his own chambers. She was three doors
down from him. It was not entirely out of the realm of
possibility that she’d heard or seen Cate walk down the
hall last night. However, that assumption could also be
putting the cart before the proverbial horse. She might
not have seen anything more than him helping Cate
down from the curricle and his indiscretion there, slight
as it was.
    He was saved from answering by the timely intervention of Alain and Cecile, who fairly swooped down
on them, irrevocably disrupting the conversation.
    “Giles, I want to find Cecile a nice, docile mare. You
must come and tell me who the best horse sellers are,”
Alain said congenially with a wide grin that implied he
knew exactly what he had done.

    “Spelthorne, go on with your friend,” Candice waved
her hand magnanimously. “It will give me a chance to
get to know your cousin better.”
    Giles blanched. He had not expected this turn of
events. Cecile saved him with a Gallic pout. “Oh, I was
so hoping Lady Cate would help me select some lace
from the vendors” She turned exclusively to Cate. “I’ve
been admiring the lace fall on your sleeves,