Free Miss Gabriel's Gambit by Rita Boucher Page B

hour each morning refining the appearance of my neckcloth.”
    “I can well believe it.” David snorted derisively. “Ouch!” he yelped, as Weston stuck him with a pin.
    “My apologies, milord,” the tailor said, twitching the sleeve of the garment into place, “but you do persist in moving. These broad shoulders require careful fitting for the proper result.”
    “I can barely move a muscle in your damned jackets,” David said, looking murderously at his tormentor, half-suspecting that the man had pricked him on purpose. “All I did was shrug my shoulders and the thing came apart. Do not make this one so tight and I do not see why you cannot give me a few pockets here and there!”
    Weston looked at Brummel and shook his head. “I cannot, Mr. Brummel. I simply cannot do it,” he said, his eyes rolling heavenward.
    “I shall speak to him,” Brummel said, watching as the tailor left the room muttering in dismay. The Beau turned toward David, who was shrugging off the half-finished garment with hasty relief.
    “You agreed to the wager,” Brummel said, in much the same tones one would use to chide a recalcitrant child.
    “I pledged to dress properly,” David declared, pushing his spectacles further up upon his nose. “I did not expect to submit to torture.”
    “If you would not persist in ruining your garments,” Lord Highslip said in a sneering voice, “you would not require so many trips to the tailor. Ripping coats to shreds with a shrug, mud on your riding costume, blood on your linen,”
    “The mess was unavoidable,” David said, looking at the earl belligerently.
    “A gentleman does not soil his hands in that manner.” Highslip sniffed.
    “I suppose I should have left the lady to her own devices!” David replied.
    “Highslip!” Brummel stepped between the two men. “Would you stop behaving as if David did the damage deliberately? Before he left us, Petrov himself testified that the ruin was necessary.”
    David gave Highslip a satisfied smirk.
    “However,” Brummel continued. “You must replace the injured garments, David, with clothing of equal quality and stop abusing Weston. The man is an artist of the highest order and you must treat him with care.”
    It was Highslip's turn to curl his lip.
    “Now, while we wait for Weston to return, tell us a bit more about the incident this morning,” Brummel said with a sigh, sensing the need for an immediate diversion. It was all too much like acting as tutor for two uncommonly belligerent boys,
    David hesitated.
    “Come, come,” Brummel urged, “it is most gallant of you to protect her. Even so, the story will be bandied up Bond Street and down Drury Lane before the sun sets, I would wager”
    “No more wagers for me,” David groaned. “One is more than sufficient.”
     “You might as well serve us up the name,” Highslip demanded. “After all, it’s no less than the chit’s own fault for acting the amazon.”
    Brummel silenced Highslip with a warning glare. “As Petrov so rightly told you, this is too remarkable a tale not to make the rounds,” Brummel reasoned. “The servants will inevitably talk, David. Moreover, if the girl’s relation is the gorgon your friend describes, then you may be sure the story will be told with enough relish to flavor it as scandal broth. However, if I disseminate the on dit in a flattering light-“
    “You are very sure of your credit, George,” David said.
    “My friend, you have yet to learn that gossip is the very coin of society and the power of my purse is far from modest,” George said, turning to the mirror to make a slight adjustment to his own neckcloth. “Now give me the name of your Amazon and I will go forth to dispense this news as if it were the veriest gold.”
    “I would not style her an amazon, George,” David said. “She was however, most courageous and undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
    “And what is the name of this vision?” Highslip asked