Page 66 of Sir Durham’s Disarming Asset

Minutes ago, she had found him. The sight of him alarmed her. Oh, he was togged to the nines. The expert cut of his double-breasted forest-green frockcoat was offset by a rich black velvet collar. His silver-threaded gray waistcoat sparkled in the candlelight. His expertly tied pleated stock had Zeph yearning to remove it. His tight knee breeches fit his thighs and shins, showing the cut of all his muscles. She reached for the support of a chairback when her knees went weak at how dramatic he looked. Other women noticed him, too. She was proud she loved him, jealous others might try to take him from her.

But she was undone by his demeanor. Oh, yes, his disarray began at the top. His hair curled over his ears, longer than he’d allowed it to grow since they had arrived in England. His complexion had always been a rugged bronze that complemented his black hair—and had stirred her delight in his swarthy looks. Now his skin had a paler tinge. Was he ill?

His eyes were clear, but hooded. Did he not sleep well? Or was he unhappy to see her?

By the weak acknowledgment that he had given her when she first glimpsed him across the room, she could not gauge his emotion.

Very well. She would embark on her plan.

“You saw him?” Gus asked her softly as they climbed the staircase.

“I did. He tried to smile.”

“I saw,” Gus said with a certain satisfaction. “He suffers, dear man.”

“I want to believe it.”

“Oh, do!” Gus pushed open the door to the room where two other ladies repaired their coiffures.

“Good evening!” Lady Jessica Ranelagh greeted Gus and Zeph. A brunette whose hair was a blend of colors of chocolate and brandy, she was one of Lord Halsey’s younger sisters and a widow recently out in Society. “I am so happy to see you here.”

“I am so glad you have come out, Jessica,” Gus told her, and bent down to look into the mirror to catch her eye. “It is important to do that.”

“She refused at first,” said her sister, Felicity—whom everyone called Fee. She was the youngest of Halsey’s siblings and a diamond of the ton who had passed a few Seasons without finding the right man to marry. “Inès insisted she come. Jessica is as picky as I am about men.”

“Stop this, the two of you!” Jessica snapped.

“What she does not tell you both,” Fee said, falling back in her chair to fan herself from a feigned flash of hot interest, “is that she did see a man who caught her imagination, but alas, we know him not.”

“Terrible,” Zeph commiserated. “What does he look like?”

“Tall, dashing,” Fee provided. “French. Silver hair. But not that old.”

“You have seen him once? Twice?” Zeph asked.

“On Bond Street once, then in St. James’s. I know not anything about him. But I overheard his name is Valery.”

“Valery.” Gus thought about that for a moment. “I know him.”

“Wonderful!” Fee grinned. “Where do we find him again?”

“A good question,” Gus said. “He is a friend of my husband. I will ask him where the man lives.”

“Oh, do!” Fee was jumping out of her skin. “Do tell us, will you?”

“Fee!” her sister admonished her with wide eyes and a shake of her head. “I am not that enamored. I saw him in the street twice. Really!”

“Well, if you are not interested,” Fee said, folding her arms, “I am.”

Jessica got to her feet and pulled Zeph’s hand to persuade her to take her chair before the mirror. “I am leaving now. Do not,” she warned Gus and Zeph, “believe a word Fee says. She needs to find a man she adores and not fiddle away her time finding one for me.”

“Bah,” Fee said with good humor and a lift of one shoulder. “We know you have been sad. You need a man!”

Jessica rolled her large violet eyes at Gus and Zeph. “Call upon me tomorrow, will you both, please? I have an idea I want to discuss.”

Fee put up a finger. “Searching for Monsieur Valery with Lord Ashley’s information about his abode would be a fabulous idea to discuss.”

Jessica spun on her sister, one arm lifted toward the door. “I am leaving to go dance. Do not follow me down, Fee. I have had enough. Tomorrow?” she said to Gus and Zeph.