Page 6 of The Best Marquess

“Yes. Good. Keep thinking. Any idea, no matter how outlandish. Desperate times and all that.”

“In a romance novel, this would be the scene where a long-lost lover stormed the soiree to claim you as his betrothed. In real life, it might have to be an actor. Or a gentleman courtesan. Are you secretly chums with either?”

“Alas not,” said Pippa drily. Then she went very still as a wildly ridiculous notion lodged in her mind. “However…”

“Yes?” he encouraged, taking a gulp of lemonade.

“I am chums with you.”

Finn choked on his drink, coughing and spluttering for breath until she abandoned discretion and pounded him on the back. Gah. Not the most flattering reaction.

“Beg pardon?” he wheezed eventually, accepting her handkerchief to dab the tears from his eyes.

Embarrassed, Pippa began to babble. “I’ll lend you the money no matter what. But if you wanted to do me a favor in return, swoop in as my secret betrothed. Then, when everyone departs for the country, I change my mind as ladies sometimes do, and we resume being best friends. See? Easy.”

“Er…yes. Easy. That’s all? A pretend engagement?”

“Hmmm. If you were amiable, kissing lessons. I need real-life experience for when I do marry, and you’ve kissed countless women. Plus, you wouldn’t tell, so would be the perfect tutor.”

At her utterly brazen words, Finn stared at her, and for the first time ever, she had no clue whatsoever to his thoughts.

“Pippa—”

“Or, you could forget everything I just said and I’ll go hire an actor,” she finished, trying to laugh and failing dismally. “But we have to pause this discussion, because here come Grandmother and Georgiana.”

“Yes,” he blurted.

“Excuse me?”

He took her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. Oddly, it made her tingle. “I hereby accept your generous investment offer. And freely agree to be your pretend betrothed. Also, your kissing tutor.”

Confusion at her body’s strange response and pure relief at his agreement made her light-headed; it was fortunate Finn held her, otherwise she would have tumbled to the floor.

Good lord. They were really going to do this.

Heaven help them both.

Chapter 2

What had he done?

No matter how hard Finn rode his horse toward Golden Square, he couldn’t escape the thought that had kept him awake all night pacing his bedchamber and draining three brandy bottles. Truthfully, if he hadn’t arranged to meet Abby this morning for a business meeting, he might well have run mad.

Who agreed to a pretend betrothal with the woman they’d loved for sixteen years? To be their kissing tutor?

Only a fool of the worst kind. A fool named Finn Knighton.

He sighed and slowed his mount to a trot. Light rain was making the streets treacherous; tumbling headfirst into a fresh manure pile would not be a glorious end.

Now, for the first time, he truly understood the phrase ‘between the devil and the deep blue sea.’ Leaving Pippa at the mercy of her grandmother’s marital plots wasn’t an option. But his future would certainly include a broken heart. Surely if his best friend had any romantic or even lustful feelings for him, she would have said something. No, it was just him who sketched miniature portraits and stared longingly across Hanover Square. Just him who woke in the middle of the night aching for release after yet another dream involving Pippa, pleasure toys, and romance novel orgasms.

Finn winced. Trotting on cobblestoned streets was not the time to be thinking of Pippa and orgasms. He did need to think of pleasure toys though; for while Abby and the staff at Bliss were doing a sterling job, they required far more customers than they currently had. Due to the risqué nature of the business, word of mouth would sell the goods far better than any discreet, vague ‘accessories for the discerning’ notices in a newspaper or scandal sheet.

Fortunately for both his cock and riding skills, the journey to Golden Square never took long on horseback. The mews behind the three-story townhouse was tiny but clean, dry, and possessing a fresh supply of well water and oats. Once he’d settled his horse, Finn crossed the pocket-handkerchief sized courtyard, unlocked the back door, and stepped inside. The ground floor looked like any other in London, with an entrance hall, parlor, and dining room. But all the second-floor rooms had been converted to make a pleasure toy factory and distribution office, while the third floor contained Abby and Nerissa’s private rooms. Below stairs were the kitchens, and where there had once been a cellar and the housekeeper and butler’s quarters, was his personal space for inventing as well as storage.

“Finlay! Thank goodness.”

He turned to see Abby hurrying toward him, and as always, he was struck by how similar they looked. The same brown eyes framed by thick lashes and thicker eyebrows, same nose, same crooked grin. If it weren’t for the flaming red hair she’d inherited from her mother, they might have been twins. But there was no grin lighting up her face today. In fact, she looked downright anxious. “What has happened, Abby? Is it Nerissa?”