Indiscreet (7 page)
"Not Julius, eh?" Lord Foye said. He scratched a cheek.
She smiled and didn't care at all that he would take it for triumph. "Your reply may tell us something of your character, don't you agree, Godard? Your favorite Caesar besides him. Or Marc Anthony. Let us exclude him as well."
"Am I allowed Caligula?" Foye's smile transformed him from plain to arresting. Her stomach dropped a mile. He wasn't handsome. Not in the least, so why, then, did she find him so compelling? How aggravating that it should be so.
"That is acceptable," she said.
"Caligula," Godard said. "An excellent choice, my lord."
"Thank you, Sir Henry." Foye's attention returned to her, and she felt that same soaring sensation in her stomach. "And your favorite. Miss Godard?"
Before she could answer, someone called out, "My lord! Is that you, Lord Foye?"
They stopped and all four of them, Asif included, turned to see a soldier running toward them. Foye remained beside her.
"Lieutenant Russell," she said with a sinking heart. The soldier was, indeed, a handsome man. "I recognize him now."
"Do you?" Foye said.
How appalling, she thought. With Lieutenant Russell bulling his way toward them, she was actually glad that Foye was here.
"His hair is red," she said with a glance in the marquess's direction. "I thought you were making that up."
He looked down at her, eyebrows arched. "You really don't recall him, do you?"
She shook her head and wondered what it was about Foye that made her stomach take flight
Chapter Six
Lieutenant Russell continued moving through the bazaar to where Foye stood with Sabine and her uncle. From somewhere deeper in the suq, an ass brayed, the sound carrying above the noise of commerce. Russell's two companions were nowhere to be seen. Godard's servant, Asif, dressed in the Ottoman style of a white turban, baggy pants that tightened at the ankle, and a flowing, long kaftan over a jacket and shirt, put a hand on one of the pistols at his waist
The lieutenant was a strapping young man of perhaps twenty-five or -six. Quite possibly younger, Miss Godard's age even, with a head of dark red curls. He was tall and well made and brimmed with the confidence that comes of knowing one is young and beautiful.
As he watched Lieutenant Russell hurrying toward Sabine with a smile of joy on his earnest, handsome face, Foye's heart clenched. He envied the lieutenant and wondered, not so idly, if Miss Godard thought him handsome. Ah, but did that matter? She did not look pleased to see the man working his way toward them.
"You found her," the lieutenant said to Foye when he reached them. "Splendid of you, milord. Just splendid." A little out of breath from his dash through the crowded suq, the lieutenant clapped a hand on Foye's shoulder, completely unaware that Foye might be a rival. "I’d nearly given up, and then I saw you, and well"—Lieutenant Russell looked at Sabine with cow's eyes—"here you are."
"It is more accurate to say that I chanced to find them," Foye said. He was careful, too, to include Godard. He'd not been blind to the tension earlier when Godard had realized Lieutenant Russell was looking for his niece. Nor did he appreciate being greeted as if he and Lieutenant Russell were intimate friends. He hardly knew the man. Neither did he care for the implication that he had found Miss Godard on the lieutenant's behalf. Bloody hell to that
"However it happened, I've found her now, and that's a delight to be sure."
Good Lord. Must he be so enthusiastic?
Russell bowed to the Godards, but his attention was for Sabine. "Sir Henry. How do you do?" He grinned even when Sir Henry glared at him with narrowed eyes.
"And you are?"
"Lieutenant Russell, sir," the young man said. "We were introduced at Mr. Lucey's, as I'm sure you recall."
"Humph." Sir Henry kept his hands on his cane. "I don't believe I do recall."
"You were introduced to all the officers there that night," Russell said. His grin never faded. "I certainly recall meeting you."
"I don't recall you."
Foye was quite certain Sir Henry did remember the fellow. Which amused him more than it ought Miss Godard was consulting her watch, oblivious to the well-favored young officer at her side. He did not mind at all seeing someone else the recipient of her indifference.
The lieutenant, however, was impervious to the tension. "And how are you, Miss Godard?" He held out a gloved hand. "Are you well? I must say you are looking especially lovely today."
That remark got the lieutenant nowhere. Foye didn't doubt Miss Godard knew she was a lovely woman, but she didn't seem to care much.
She curled her fingers around her watch. "I am very well, thank you, Lieutenant"
"Sabine," Sir Henry said. This he accompanied with a bang of his cane on the ground that made Miss Godard jump. "Pray do not address a man to whom you have not been introduced."
This, Foye realized, was one of the consequences of her time in London. Her uncle, however proud of her intellect, did not trust his niece. He suspected she'd been made to pay for that in large and small ways every day since the scandal.
Lieutenant Russell, to his credit, did not lose his composure or his damned enthusiasm. "Sir Henry, I assure you she's done nothing improper."
"Humph."
"Miss Godard and I have been introduced."
"Since I don't recall you, I should very much like to know how that could be," Sir Henry said.
"Mr. Lucey introduced us."
"I have no such recollection."
"Godard," Sabine said with a patient, pleasant expression belied by the tension in her shoulders. She was crushing her watch. "Mr. Lucey did introduce you to him. And tome."
He narrowed his eyes, pretending, Foye was quite certain, to think. "Is that so?"
"Yes, Godard, that's so. We were introduced to all the officers that evening."
"Not a very memorable fellow, then, is he?"
"Godard." Sabine laid a hand on her uncle's arm. "Please."
Lieutenant Russell completely misinterpreted the exchange. He beamed at Miss Godard. Tb Foye, it was patently obvious that she was genuinely appalled by Russell's adoration of her and was doing all she could to distance herself from the man without overt rudeness. The lieutenant thought she was defending him out of fondness. The poor, deluded fool.
They stood there, all of them, with Lieutenant Russell hoping he would be asked to join them and Godard having no intention of doing so. Miss Godard fell silent The longer the invitation went without being made, the more awkward the moment became.
"Lord Foye," Sir Henry said.
"Sir?" He awaited this development with interest
"Walk ahead with Sabine, won't you? I want a word in private with this young fellow." Sir Henry smiled rather like a hawk would smile right before it dove for a hapless rabbit "I should like to discover everything he knows about the history of his regiment"
"I should be delighted," Foye said, turning to Miss Godard with his arm extended.
Her gaze slid over his proffered arm. Instead, she started walking, and Foye, after bowing to Sir Henry and the lieutenant followed.
"Poor Lieutenant Russell" he said in a low voice. He was curious to know what she might say now that they were alone. "Sir Henry will question him until his brain turns to pudding."
She stopped walking and looked back to where her uncle stood with their servant and the lieutenant "I don't know whether we ought to stay well ahead of them or if it would be best to remain close. I think we should remain nearby, don't you?"
"He won't go far," Foye said. "Your servant is there if he needs assistance." He clasped his hands behind his back. "If Lieutenant Russell is to be told he is not welcome as an aspirant to your heart—"
"I've done nothing," she said. She looked into his face, and he was struck again by how pretty she was, and by how miserable she looked "Nothing that would allow anyone to think he could have any legitimate hopes where I am concerned."
"I agree," he said. "In any case, it's best if you are not near while your uncle deals with him. If we stay where we are, he will see us. Do not humiliate him."
"No," she said, and started walking again. "That would not be well done of us."
"Better if you and I continue in our discussion of Roman emperors," Foye said. He offered his arm, but she busied herself with shaking out her skirts, an occupation she kept up until Foye lowered his arm. "I don't believe you told me which was your favorite."
"I did not."
"I insist on knowing." He felt awkward walking beside her here in the crowded suq without taking her arm.
"Does it make a difference?"
He gazed down at her. Had he really hoped for better treatment from her when her uncle was not watching her every utterance? "No," he said. "No difference at all." She flushed at his curt reply, and it was a measure of his irritation with her dislike of him that he hardly cared. "It is at least a subject of conversation to occupy us. Better than stone-cold silence between us."
She looked over her shoulder, then quickly back. "Very well." She took a breath. "As a girl, my lord, I divided the Roman rulers into two groups, those who died unnaturally and those who did not"
My God, she sounded as though she were giving a lecture.
'The former may be further grouped according to whether they were assassinated, murdered by the Praetorian guards, executed, a suicide, or killed in battle. I was astonished to learn that for quite a long while it was unusual for an emperor, and I use that term loosely here as many emperors never so styled themselves, to die anything but unnaturally."
"Had you a favorite among the various groups?" He was interested despite himself, despite a strong suspicion that she intended to put him off with this display of erudition.
"Comodus. Assassinated, it's said, by a wrestler, and Hadrian because I was born near Hadrian's Wall."
"I am ashamed of my single choice of Caligula."
"He was a fine emperor." Her face was intent, and Foye wondered if she knew she'd gotten carried away with the subject "I approve of your favorite, my lord." She nodded to herself. "Godard would say it shows you have a discerning mind. But then, you are on his assiduously maintained list I expected no less."
"I am flattered you think so," he said. He meant it. She distrusted him, and if she admired his mind despite that, he was well pleased. He could see himself in twenty, forty, or even fifty years, still being fascinated by her mind.
Now that was quite a thought for him to be having.
"I admire the Romans no matter what I say about the Greeks," she went on. "Don't let Godard convince you other-wise about me. The Roman influence went geographically farther, and they did take knowledge of the Greeks with them." She gave him a sideways look. "Have you been to Serjillo?"
"Not yet" Serjillo was an abandoned Roman city in northern Syria, one of many in the region, and yes, he did intend to see at least some of the Roman ruins. "But I shall certainly place it on my itinerary now"
They came to a section of the suq where the merchants were selling jewelry, and Foye slowed. The rug merchants were still a ways distant "The Roman ruins are to be a chapter in his book," she said.
"The one you're helping him write?"
She nodded.
A glance behind them gave Foye a glimpse of Lieutenant Russell walking quickly away from Sir Henry. And he had said nothing of Crosshaven yet He stopped walking and decided it was time to take his honor in hand and let her know what had happened: "Perhaps," he said, "we ought to bring a few matters into the open."
Her mouth tightened. There was something forlorn about the way she went so still, as if she were bracing herself for tragic news. She nodded to him, a very small movement of her head. "Good God," he said, both offended and appalled. "You think I'm going to proposition you, don't you?"
"You would not be the first acquaintance of Lord Crosshaven's to do so."
"Crosshaven and I have parted ways." Foye heard the touch of anger in his voice but seemed powerless to suppress it "He is no friend of mine. Please be assured of that, Miss Godard."
She started walking again. Foye took a long step to catch up and was shocked to see her near tears. He drew her arm through his, but she moved sharply away.
'This is nonsense," he said. "It is polite for a gentleman to take a young lady's arm when they are walking out."
"We are
not
walking out"
not
walking out"
"That isn't what I meant, and well you know it" He bent closer. "Even if I thought you had been to bed with Crosshaven, I would offer you my arm. Without designs on your person, I might add. Because I assure you I do not wish an entanglement of that sort with you or any other woman."
Other books
Clones vs. Aliens by M.E. Castle
Other Words for Love by Lorraine Zago Rosenthal
[Roger the Chapman 03] - The Hanged Man by Kate Sedley
Dear Soldier Boy by Maxwell Tibor
Vacant (Empathy #3) by Ker Dukey
Teach Me by Townshend, Ashleigh
Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) by Wycoff, Merrie P.
Fervor by Chantal Boudreau
X Marks the Spot (Executioners MC Book 1) by Kimmie Easley
