Free A Heart in Jeopardy by Holly Newman Page B

noted her challenging chin, and his eyes narrowed farther. This woman needed to learn a few sharp lessons, he decided. A curious excitement churned in his loins at the prospect. He almost smiled. "You're late," he growled instead, languidly straightening and walking toward her.
    "Late? I don't see how. It cannot be much past four, can it?"
    "You were to arrive yesterday."
    "Oh. Are you upset because your people were forced to put up at the Golden Goose last night? My apologies, but there was much too much to do to come harrying off on such short notice."
    "You should have left the minute you received that confounded package! You made a promise, Miss Leonard."
    Leona winced at the knife thrust to her conscience. That blasted promise was a treacherous subject best avoided. "If you'd written first," she said through strained patience and clenched teeth, "I would have told you when we could leave. And there was really no reason for you to send a carriage. We were quite prepared to post down, weren't we, Maria? But, if it would mend fences, I will pay for your peoples' lodging."
    "Damn it, woman, that is not the point, and well you know it!"
    "Nigel!" A tiny woman with gray-streaked black hair and eyes nearly as blue as Deveraux's walked briskly into the hall from one of the rooms off to the left. " Imbecile! They are here to live, not to die of pneumonia! Les pauvres! They are drenched to the skin. They must have hot baths and a brandy—for the medical purposes, mademoiselle," she assured Leona on a quick breath. The scent of roses clung to her.
    "My son," she confided in Leona. "He is too much in the army with men, men, men. The only women—bah, nothing. You must be Mademoiselle Leonard, non ? Ah—my dear granddaughter has told me much of you, and you, too, Mademoiselle Sprockett. So, Nigel, what do you stand there for? Ring for Madame Henry. She shall take care of you with hot baths and scents and soaps. I have tried to get the secret for her family's scent, but she is a stubborn one. Ooh, so stubborn, you know?"
    "You are well matched," drawled her son.
    "Bah, what do you know? You don't even introduce us or see to their comforts. What have I done wrong?" she pleaded, her eyes to heaven and her hands clasped before her.
    "Married father?" he suggested with teasing lightness. It was an aspect of Deveraux Leona did not expect.
    Lady Deveraux glared at him. He laughed and, surprisingly obedient, crossed to a narrow alcove to ring a bell pull connected to the servants' domain in the nether regions of the house.
    " Ma petite , I am Lady Veronique Deveraux, the Dowager Countess of Nevin and, to my embarrassment, that mannerless oaf's mother. I cannot tell you how I have longed for the day I speak to you and Miss Sprockett of my gratitude, but alas, I see it is not to be now. Madame Henry is coming, so we must wait. When you are warm and comfortable, we three shall have a comfortable coze, ne c'est pas ? I am glad you are here!" She hugged Leona, kissing either cheek, and then did the same to Maria.
    Unused to physical demonstrations, Leona stumbled backward, surprise writ large on her face. She turned her head to see Deveraux noting her reaction and laughing at it. Leona's lips pursed as she pointedly turned her back on him in order to greet the housekeeper and follow her upstairs. She did not look back as she followed Mrs. Henry's stately tread up the wide marble staircase, but she felt his eyes boring into her spine the entire way.
    "Nigel, mon fils , why are you so rude to Mademoiselle Leonard?" demanded Lady Nevin as he took her arm to lead her back into the Chinese drawing room.
    "Why are you so French when you are angry, Maman?" he countered.
    She raised one black brow and gave her son a quelling, haughty look.
    He laughed. "You do that so well. No one would know you were not born and bred to be a countess."
    "One learns what one must, and I've over thirty years of practice," she said placidly, her French accent now less