Page 37 of Rogue’s Holiday

The tall Alvanley with the prominent chest made an elegant bow over their hands and glanced up, smiling broadly. “Delightful creatures!”

So, this was the nobleman whose wit was celebrated by all of London, the man Mrs. Fitz had said loved apricot tarts.

Inclining his head, he said, “Summer in Brighton looms more intriguing by the moment, Lady Sanborn.”

Rose blushed as Lord Alvanley wished them a good evening and passed into the parlor. Following on his heels came the Lades, Sir Bellingham and his wife, Harriet, and Mrs. Fitz, who Chastity warmly greeted as if she were her own aunt.

Richly attired, the woman who had wed Prinny so long ago had a calm, unruffled demeanor. “Good eve, my dears. Don’t you both look lovely!”

“As do you,” said Chastity. She meant it sincerely. Some women didn’t age well, but Mrs. Fitz was not one of those. Her face reflected an inner light, a graciousness few possessed.

A dozen more guests entered behind Mrs. Fitz, greeting Aunt Agatha, Chastity and Rose. After that, the guests came in smaller numbers. As each arrived, Featherstone ushered them into the parlor where footmen waited with trays of sparkling wine, canapés and savories.

The last to arrive were The Rogue and his uncle. While her aunt was speaking to another guest, Rose chatted with the vicomte, giving Chastity a chance to surreptitiously peruse Sir Robert.

He had come dressed as the finest of gentlemen, a superfine black coat well fitted to his broad shoulders set off by a brilliant white shirt and ivory satin waistcoat with a black silk cravat. His long legs were encased in tight-fitting cream-colored pantaloons, leaving no doubt as to his manly attributes, which, she surmised, had been his intention. His ebony shoes, she noticed, had been polished to a high gloss.

The vicomte was not as tall, nor did he have shoulders so broad, but he was nevertheless handsome in the more refined Continental way. His auburn hair had been smoothed back to curl at his nape.

She supposed The Rogue must be intending to capture a lady’s attention, though she didn’t recall seeing Countess Lieven on the invitation list. Doubtless he would attract any number of ladies. Did all rogues have that sparkle in their eyes? That dashing smile of white teeth? Likely so. Else how did they beguile every female in which they took an interest?

“Good evening, Sir Robert,” she said in formal welcome as he turned toward her.

His hazel eyes glistened as he took in her gown from the mounds of her breasts to her claret slippers, making her pulse race. “And to you, Miss Reynolds. Enchanting as always.”

Chastity returned him a brief smile with her thanks and, leaving him to converse with Rose and the vicomte, sallied forth into the parlor, lifting a glass of champagne from the footman’s tray as she did. Disarmed by Sir Robert’s bold appraisal, she took a deep drink of the sparkling wine and gazed about the crowded room, determined to find someone for Rose.

In one corner, a small group played chamber music, adding to the ambiance.

As she ventured deeper into the crowd, she noted that the guests were not all over the age of sixty, as she had expected. Instead, she found herself surrounded by both young and old engaged in lively conversations.

Judging by appearances, the guests seemed to be enjoying themselves. Her great-aunt’s reception would be counted a huge success and, for that, Chastity was grateful. She wanted Aunt Agatha’s kindness to be recognized.

She was about to seek out Letty when a gentleman Chastity had been introduced to at the front door approached her.

She recognized the handsome man immediately. “Mr. Henry Cairo, I believe?” With a name like that and a winning smile, she could never forget him.

“Indeed, I am, dear lady, and grateful you have remembered me.”

“Your name is so unusual. Is it too obvious to ask if your family is from Egypt?” His ruffled cravat hinted of the Continent, but there was nothing foreign about his speech and his curly dark brown hair framed a fair complexion.

He gave out a chuckle. “No, indeed. I’m from Coventry in the north.”

She peered into his dark eyes with genuine interest. “Why, that’s not far from my home in Northampton. What brings you to Brighton?”

“I was planning to summer in London, handling some business for my family, when I met Sir Bellingham at a showing of our latest designs. He persuaded me to come to Brighton for a visit as his guest.” Mr. Cairo fixed her with an intense gaze. “I am thinking it was a wise decision.”

The man was fascinating and might prove an acceptable suitor for Rose if he were unattached. “If I might inquire, what business has you displaying designs in London?”

“I like to think of my family as ‘artisans in time’.”

She returned him a puzzled look. “Artisans—”

His laughter interrupted her question. “That’s what everyone does when I use that expression.”

His speech was animated in a way that conveyed his excitement for the subject and Chastity leaned in, listening with great interest to hear him over the noise around her.

“To put it in common terms, Miss Reynolds, we make fine watches and clocks, and have since our family’s early beginnings in Italy.”