Page 63 of Love and the Shameless Lady

Her brows drew together. “I knew he was an educated man, but I assumed he was merely a scholarly, somewhat impoverished member of an émigré family.”

“You will find that his personality has undergone a complete transformation when you meet him today.”

“His clothing certainly has,” she said.

“He is every inch the aristocrat when amongst the ton, although he maintains his revolutionary views regardless of his role. Please do not mention his alias. He wishes to keep it a secret.”

She frowned in earnest. “I never thought of him as a hypocrite.”

“He is not a rich man,” Julian said. “If he is to marry well, he must keep up appearances. How shall we play this? As if you are previously acquainted with him, or not?”

Now she grinned. “We shall see the astonishment on his face and then decide.”

Julian’s heart turned over. She glowed when she smiled. And the mischief in her eyes! This was the real Daisy, the woman who hid behind the sharp tongue and frigid demeanor.

She tucked her hand in Julian’s arm without being prompted—was she becoming comfortable with him at last?—and they headed for the front door.

What, indeed, would be the reaction of Philippe de Bellechasse?

Beside the carriage, the marquis bowed over Gloriana’s hand. Behind him, Antoine, the valet, superintended the unpacking of the coach.

“A pleasure to see you again, my dear Miss Warren,” the marquis drawled.

Gloriana snatched her hand away and said in a sulky voice, “Melinda could not have chosen a worse time to invite you. Lord Hythwick is the guest of honor.”

“But no, that is precisely why she asked me. When we chanced to meet in York, she begged me to come and relieve the inevitable boredom of his lordship’s company. I couldn’t help but take pity on her.”

Gloriana’s pale features turned a dull red. “Fortunately, Lord Hythwick can have no true objection to you. Despite your appalling opinions, you are an aristocrat.”

“A mere accident of birth, as are intelligence and wit. But if you are willing to settle for a bore, who am I to object?”

The man Antoine noticed Daisy first. He stumbled, almost dropping the dressing case he carried. The marquis turned, glanced up, and spied Julian and Daisy at the top of the steps. “Mon Dieu!” Shock, perhaps dismay, was written all over his face.

Again, it wasn’t proof, but Julian now knew that if either master or servant was involved in the threats to Daisy, both were. Damn.

“You couldn’t even remove that disgusting apron, Daisy?” Gloriana moaned.

The marquis recovered from his surprise and came forward, hands outstretched. “Miss Daisy Warren is delightful whatever her attire.”

Daisy and Julian descended the stairs. “Bonjour, Monsieur le Marquis,” she said, her nose in the air. Had she too read that expression as dismay?

“Forgive my astonishment, my dear Miss Daisy. You told me you would not be able to attend this delightful party. How glad I am to see you! How happy to further our acquaintance!” The marquis took both her hands and kissed them with a flourish. Gloriana glanced from one to the other, perplexity on her sullen countenance.

“As am I,” Daisy said. “And here is my friend Antoine, as well.” She nodded at the valet, who gave her an insolent grin. Julian muffled a laugh at Gloriana’s outraged face. No true aristocrat, in Gloriana’s opinion, would consider a mere servant her friend, much less say so out loud. She certainly wouldn’t put up with a servant who dared to grin.

Daisy was perfect for him in so many ways.

“Sally told me you had been called to your brother’s estate on urgent business,” the marquis said. “What a delightful surprise to find you here instead, and my friend Sir Julian as well.”

Julian took Daisy’s hand in his. “We are betrothed.”

The marquis’s brows shot up. “You and Miss Daisy?”

Antoine, too, halted in the midst of unearthing valises to stare.

“Yes, indeed,” Julian. “I count myself the luckiest of men.”

“But how superb,” the marquis said. “My felicitations to you both.”