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“I noticed.”
“It can seem endearing.”
“It damned well isn’t. The man is a fraud, Demeter, do not forget that.”
“Not to me,” she protested. “But it adds to his whole new money, finding his feet in society act.”
“Yes...”
“Well, it seems to me it occurs when he lies.”
“He blushes all the time,” he pointed out.
“Yes, because he is lying most of the time.” She paused and faced Blake head on. “But when he called me, um, lovely, the blush went.”
“Youarelovely,” he concurred. “But that could just be a coincidence.”
She shook her head and forced the compliment to the back of her mind. “I do not think so.”
“How do you know?”
She grinned. “Instinct, Blake. I have an instinct.”
***
Armed with this new knowledge, Blake strode over to his cousin as he bid some new friends farewell. If it was true, he might be able to tell when his cousin was telling the truth and when he was lying.
“Are you leaving?” Blake asked, forcing a smile.
His cousin glanced about. “Indeed.”
“I thought we might discuss...” Blake searched his mind, “a dinner party.”
“A dinner party?”
“Well, you have yet to host one and it is the done thing.”
Foster tugged the edge of his waistcoat. “Oh. Well, yes, of course.”
“Well, then let us head to your house.”
“I brought the barouche.” Foster waved a hand to the outer gates where the bright yellow vehicle waited.
Oh yes. The yellow monstrosity. Somehow, he kept the disgust from his face. “Shall we?” Blake merely replied.
Blake climbed into the carriage next to his cousin, trying not to stare at him to spot the blush. At present, his cheeks were pale. No lies detected yet.
“You know, I did not realize you and Lady Demeter were courting.”
Blake blinked at the hardness behind his gaze. Oh, he’d quite royally annoyed his cousin. How interesting. Maybe if he probed deeper, he could irritate Foster into revealing something about himself.
“Well, we were not really, but she’s a lady of fortune.” He shrugged. “And hardly ugly either.”
Foster’s lips pressed into a thin line as the carriage jerked forward. “She’s extremely elegant and lovely,” he said, his tone hard. “You are a lucky man.”
“There are many who would saysheis lucky.” Blake forced a smug smirk.
“To be wedding a man who...?” Foster shook his head and straightened. “Well, I wish you both the best.”
