Free An Affair of Honor by Amanda Scott Page A

have ever clapped eyes upon?”
    “You only think it is not the uniform,” Nell replied gently, stifling an impulse to remind her niece that she was betrothed. “In my experience, nearly every young man looks extraordinarily handsome in a uniform. And those Hussar kits are particularly becoming. Just you wait till you see one of them in full dress with his pelisse and silver lace.”
    Rory looked dubious, but she did not argue, and they moved on to visit the shops. They soon found her green ribbons, made a good many other trifling purchases, and then Nell suggested they simply stroll for a while and enjoy the sights.
    Rory had already exclaimed her astonishment over the changes wrought in the prince’s Marine Pavilion since her previous visit. The onion-domed roof of the stables seemed to her to be something straight out of a fairy tale. She glanced at it again when they emerged from the last shop.
    “What a truly magnificent imagination his highness must possess,” she said solemnly.
    “What a very expensive imagination would be more to the point,” remarked a dry but familiar voice from the flagway close behind them.
    Rory muttered something under her breath, but Nell was grateful to observe that her charge was all smiles as they turned to bid good day to Lord Huntley.
    “Good morrow, ladies,” he said with a polite bow. “I chanced to observe you from across the way but decided to await your emergence from that tiny shop before accosting you.” He glanced at their many parcels and lifted an eyebrow. “Have you emptied the shops?”
    He was looking very well this morning, Nell thought with a small glow of pleasure as she replied in kind. He wore a well-cut coat of dark blue superfine over cream-colored pantaloons and tasseled Hessians. Once again his neckcloth was neat but not extravagant, and his waistcoat of plain light blue moiré silk was typically conservative. The only glitter about his person was supplied by the four gold buttons on his coat and his heavy gold signet ring.
    Rory seemed to notice none of this sartorial elegance. She eyed him with mock—at least, Nell hoped it was mock—disfavor.
    “It is quite like you, my lord, to think of the expense of that magnificent structure instead of its beauty. He is quite abominable, Aunt Nell. Do you know,” she added, pouting prettily, “that he does not even approve of fairy-tale knights in shining armor?”
    “My dear sir!”
    “I never said I disapproved of them,” Huntley corrected evenly. “I merely gave it as my opinion that you would not really enjoy being courted by one.”
    “I said”—Rory turned pointedly toward her aunt—“that I thought it would have been wonderful to live in those days and to have a handsome knight in shining armor sue for my favors. And he”—glowering now at Huntley—“said they must have smelled quite dreadfully after being cooped up for an hour or two in their armor.”
    Nell looked at Huntley, her eyes dancing. “You didn’t!”
    He smiled. “I did. And before this young lady manages to prejudice you further, let me hasten to confess that I also pointed out the probability that being confined in all that tin was bound to make a man itch.”
    A gurgle of laughter escaped Nell, but Rory merely scowled.
    “I told you he is not in the least romantic, Aunt Nell.”
    “So you did, my dear. Well, my lord?”
    “Correct again, I fear.” He smiled again. Really, Nell thought, it was quite odd how that little smile could gentle his harsh features. At times it made his lordship look almost like the young boy she remembered. The absurdity of the thought brought a touch of extra color to her cheeks, and she looked away quickly.
    “We must not stand like stocks,” she said a moment later, glancing at the little watch pinned to her bodice. “My carriage collects us at Donaldson’s in ten minutes, sir. Will you walk along the Steyne with us?”
    “Gladly, Miss Lindale. I have been noticing a good many changes