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“Come along, my dear. There’s the Spanish ambassador.” Lady Sterling steered her husband away.
“She’s the perfect hostess,” said Raven. “She’d make a better diplomat than Sir Charles, I do believe.”
When he said things like that, Indy wanted to hug him.
“Shall I introduce you to Petrov now?” asked Raven. “He’s a war hero who played a significant role at Waterloo. Wellington singled him out for praise. He’s been staring at you since you entered the room.”
“I noticed. He’s probably trying to decide whether this is the real Wish Diamond.”
“No, he’s staring at you because you’re beautiful.” Raven grinned and her knees nearly buckled, which wasn’t very conducive to prowling like afemme fatalein search of her next victim.
“No, wait,” she said. “There’s Lady Catherine.”
Lady Catherine walked across the room, a tall figure in a long cape of white with a white turban upon her head, and a necklace shaped like two snakes’ heads intertwining around her throat.
“Lady Catherine, it’s been too long.” Indy clasped her friend’s hands. She had grown frail since the last time Indy saw her.
“Too long, my dear.”
“Lady Catherine, may I present the Duke of Ravenwood?”
“You may, although I can’t promise to be civil,” said Lady Catherine.
Same old Catherine. Never one to mince words.
“Lady Catherine.” Raven bowed. He was so delectable in formal evening attire. The tailored coat made his shoulders even wider and his midsection so trim. She knew wicked things about his body. She’d had her thighs spread over his narrow hips. She’d counted the ridges of muscles on that abdomen.
She’d opened her mouth and fit his... blast!Don’t think about that.
“What’s this I hear about you planning a wedding?” Lady Catherine asked with a disapproving glare at Raven.
She was disapproving of men in general, and marriage in particular.
Indy would tell her the truth later but for now she had to go along with the charade.
“We finally decided to tie the knot.”
Catherine frowned. “No, no.” She shook her head from side to side. “No, this simply won’t do at all. He has a goodly nose, but his brow is deficient. Far too low and flat.”
Oh dear.
“I beg your pardon?” asked Raven.
“You won’t make a suitable husband for my Indy,” Lady Catherine said sternly. “Your brow is deficient. And your eyes are too cold. And you have a deadened heart.”
Indy laughed uneasily. “I’m sure no one has told His Grace that he has a deficiency before.”
“Certainly not,” said Raven.
“Lady Catherine believes in something she calls the portents and omens of a face,” explained Indy.
“And my face is insufficiently auspicious,” said Raven.
“It augers ill,” agreed Lady Catherine. “Low brows denote a brooding disposition. Also a dominating one. And Indy will never be dominated.”
“So I’ve learned,” said Raven.
A slight man with pale blonde hair wearing a white coat trimmed in gold approached.
