Free Lady Eve's Indiscretion by Grace Burrowes

William’s acquaintance?”
    He put it purposely in the posture of compensation for services rendered, as if that particular exchange was the only one they managed civilly.
    Her brows rose while she batted her lips with the flower.
    They were pretty lips, finely curved, a luscious pink that put him in mind of a ripe—
    The spring air was obviously affecting his male humors.
    â€œI will come with you, provided you’re willing to take Jenny and Louisa as well, if Kesmore can spare her. They’d enjoy such an outing, and I’m sure King William would enjoy the company.”
    â€œWe have an appointment, then.”
    He rose and bowed over her gloved hand, feeling a vague discontent with their exchange. As he made his way back out to the street, he turned and gave her a wave. She waved back, but the sight of her there on the bench, clutching her lone flower, left a queer ache in his chest.
    Thank God, she wasn’t his type. He liked women with dramatic coloring and dramatic passions. Women with whom a man always knew exactly where he stood, and how much the trinket would cost that would allow him to stand a great deal closer.
    But Eve Windham could talk horses, she was proving a sensible ally, and he did like to kiss her. She also drove a team like she was born to hold the reins.
    What an odd combination of attributes.
    ***
    â€œWhat did Deene say to Miss Georgina?”
    Dolan kept his voice even when he wanted to thunder the question to the rafters. Miss Amy Ingraham was not a timid soul, but neither did she deserve bullying. She stood before him on the other side of his massive desk, back straight as a pike, expression that particular cross between blank and deferential only a lady fallen on hard times could evidence to her employer.
    â€œHis lordship said very little, sir. He played catch with the child and introduced her to Lady Eve Windham.”
    Windham?
    â€œOne of Moreland’s girls?” The duchess herself would have been “Her Grace”—never “lady” this or that. Dolan knew that much, though the entire order of precedence with its rules of address left an Irish stonemason’s son ready to kick something repeatedly.
    â€œI believe Lady Eve is the youngest, sir.”
    This was the value of employing a genteel sort of English governess, granddaughter of a viscount, no less. She’d stay up late on summer nights and pore over Debrett’s by the meager light of her oil lamp, and she’d recall exactly which family whelped which titled pups.
    â€œHow young is this Lady Eve?”
    â€œShe’s been out several years, sir, from what I understand.”
    â€œDid she say anything to Georgina?”
    Miss Ingraham took a substantial breath, which drew attention to her feminine attributes. The day he’d hired her, Dolan had noted the woman had a good figure to go with her pretty face and pale blond hair. He knew of no rule that said governesses couldn’t be lovely for their employers to behold, though knowing the English, such a rule no doubt existed.
    â€œHer ladyship complimented Miss Georgina on her curtsy, praised the dog, chided his lordship for throwing the ball too high, and thanked Miss Georgina for giving the horses a chance to rest.”
    Lady Eve had chided his lordship. Dolan gave the lady a grudging mental nod, duke’s daughter or not. Deene was in need of a good deal of chiding, though he was no worse than the rest of his arrogant, presuming…
    â€œWas there something more, Miss Ingraham?”
    If anything, her spine got straighter.
    â€œSpeak plainly, woman. I don’t punish my employees for being honest, though I take a dim view of dishonesty.”
    â€œMiss Georgina seemed to enjoy her uncle’s company very much, as well as that of Lady Eve.”
    He peered at Miss Ingraham a little more closely. She had fine gray eyes that were aimed directly at him, and a wide, generous mouth held in a flat,