Page 98 of Love and the Shameless Lady

Julian caught Philippe’s eye, and by common consent they moved away. “You are not the sort of man to make a clumsy attempt at anything. You meant exactly what you said.”

“And now I regret my thoughtless words,” Philippe said.

“Fine, but what prompted them?”

Philippe did not try to pretend to misunderstand. “Perhaps it is because I know you well. You do advocate change, but you would never support radical methods of accomplishing it. Couple that with your melancholy air when you contemplate those who are in danger of arrest for sedition . . .” He spread his hands. “Then add your financial difficulties, et voilà.”

Julian was relieved to know he hadn’t done anything stupid. “I don’t disagree with their aims and grievances, but . . . duty calls. What may perhaps be tolerated in peacetime is dealt with swiftly and brutally while we are at war.”

“Believe me, I understand. As a Frenchman, I must be even more careful to give no cause for concern.”

“Therefore you avoid associating with those who might be privy to government secrets, and present yourself as a rather tedious academic.” He grimaced. “You play that role very well.”

“So well that you were appalled to find that I am a thief.”

“Better than a spy,” Julian said.

The terrier seemed unhurt. Daisy stroked the little creature and glanced over at Julian, deep in conversation with the marquis. She felt certain that last explanation of Philippe’s was a lie.

Lord Hythwick erupted from the billiard room, Gloriana at his heels, with Melinda Garrison taking up the rear. Virtuoso growled, quivering under Daisy’s hand.

“If you don’t order someone to shoot that damned dog, I’ll strangle it myself,” the earl bellowed, storming toward them. His torn right stocking revealed a bony ankle and a trickle of blood.

Rebecca screamed. “No! Save him, Cousin Daisy.”

Daisy snatched the little dog up. “Don’t worry, darling. I won’t let him touch her.”

“Damned right he won’t.” Julian was instantly at her side.

The earl came to a halt. “Cousin . . . Daisy?” Realization dawned in his furious eyes, which now almost bugged out of his head. “This is the Daisy the brat referred to? Your wife is Daisy Warren?”

“Daisy Kerr now,” Julian said placidly.

“The Daisy Warren who famously bedded a smuggler?”

Gloriana clutched his arm. “Dear Lord Hythwick, let me explain.”

He shook her off. “That you acknowledge your relationship with that abandoned woman renders you entirely unacceptable.”

“But we’re doing our best not to acknowledge it,” Gloriana pleaded. “That’s why we introduce her as Lady Kerr.”

“We do so acknowledge her,” Melinda cried, “and I refuse to pretend anything else.”

“I am affronted,” the earl pronounced. “And immeasurably distressed, to say the least.”

“Rightly so, my lord,” Gloriana said. “I share your distress.”

Lord Hythwick seemed a little mollified, but Virtuoso chose this worst possible moment to bark. The earl swerved again, advancing upon Daisy. “Give me that godforsaken mutt.”

“I shall not,” Daisy said, clutching the dog against her breast and prudently getting out of Julian’s way.

“Give it to me, you disgusting little whore!”

Julian’s fist smashed into Lord Hythwick’s chin. He swayed and fell, landing square on a bush covered with lush, pink roses, then toppled ignominiously onto the path.

“Thank you, Julian.” Daisy passed the dog to Rebecca. “Better take him indoors, love, and keep him safe until Lord Hythwick leaves.”

“Which won’t be long, I trust.” Julian rubbed his knuckles. “My apologies, Lady Garrison. I didn’t mean to damage your roses.”