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Again, her merry laugh, which won her another admonishing tone as he told her, “If you are quite through, perhaps we can get on our way, Lady Jess.” He watched to see if he had depressed her levity, which he thought had taken a dangerous turn. Females could, after all, take on the strangest notions, then be forever plaguing one. While Jess had never before displayed any romantic interest in him, quite the opposite, he had enough of an opinion of himself to think there was no saying that she still might do so. This was not something he wanted to happen, at least, he didn’t think it was.
* * * * *
June Keenen sat in the bright coffeehouse and sipped her brew in leisurely fashion. Her blue eyes scanned Sir Warren’s set features, and saw he was displeased. Well, she wasn’t exactly thrilled about what had happened last night either. She patted her blonde curls in place and adjusted her pretty chi bonnet of yellow silk. He smiled and reached over to tweak her matching spencer.
“Well met,” he said softly.
“Is it? Perhaps, Sir Warren, this meeting between us is no longer necessary, as I now have little, if any influence with Don Rodrigo, and I can only assume that is what you wished to speak to me about.”
He released a short and derisive laugh. “My interests in your regard—” His eyes now traveled the length of her neck to the low plunge of the V neckline of her gown beneath her open spencer. “Have little to do with your influence with Don Rodrigo.” He put up his hand to stall any questions she might have at this juncture. “However, your disassociation with him might be a problem.”
“Why?” She was now curious.
“Never mind that. I must give this some further thought,” he said, and frowned.
“Would you perhaps tell me what all this is about?” she asked impatiently.
“Yes, very well. You see, there is a young noblewoman whom I intend to wed,” he answered simply. “She has everything I need. Position, wealth, beauty, and a certain spirit that intrigues me. She is, in fact, the only woman who could wean me from my happy state of bachelorhood.”
“What has that to do with me?” June was now irritated. Why should she have to sit and listen to him expound the virtues of another woman? She had her own problems, and they needed immediate solving.
“The lady of whom I speak seems momentarily diverted by a Latin rogue,” he said on a dry note.
She felt him study her. Indeed, she could not hide the fact that she not only realized he was speaking about Don Rodrigo, but that she was extremely annoyed by the information. “Are you telling me Rodrigo is courting some English noblewoman? Impossible. He cannot bear the thought of marriage.”
“Well, let us say that in a manner of speaking, he certainly has intruded himself upon her notice, and seems more than a little taken with her. The only way he can conclude his flirtation is to marry her...such is her name and connections. It is my belief he will eventually take his departure before he finds himself locked into a situation he does not wish to contemplate, but I don’t want to court a woman who openly displays her preference for someone else.”
She shrugged. “Before that happens, I am sure he will tire of her.”
“As I have implied, I am a proud man. I don’t want it said that she took my proposal because she was spurned by another...especially this particular Latin.” He eyed June. “Nor do I enjoy the notion of this Latin hell-rake toying with the woman I mean to wed.”
“I don’t see how I can help in this matter,” June said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Nor did I when you first informed me of your present situation with Don Rodrigo,” he answered glibly.
“Well, then, we have nothing more to discuss in this regard.” Again, the invitation was in her eyes. She needed a new man in her life. She needed protection. Perhaps Sir Warren might prove useful for a few months until she could locate and seduce a wealthy merchant.
“On the contrary, my dear. I said when you first advised me of your break with Don Rodrigo, I found myself at a temporary impasse. However, I believe we may yet salvage my plan.”
“We?” She put up her eyebrow and considered him.
He took her chin. “Yes, we!” His voice was low and charged. “Do what I ask of you, June, my sweet, and I will reward you...satisfactorily.”
“Hmm, but what will I have to do?”
“What you do so well. Act, my dear, simply put on an act.”
* * * * *
Jessie found the inn in Covent Garden to be all she had hoped it would be. She had heard so much about it from her friends, and here she was! There were notable poets present, and when her eyes rested on Sir Walter Scott, she felt her day had been made complete.
While she oohed and aahed, Pauly pulled a face. This was not his notion of a fun establishment, and so he said, “I don’t see what should have you all a gawk, but there you are. There is no saying what a female will take into her head to fetch and goggle over!”
She dismissed his attitude with a wave of her hand and told him, “Pauly, do but look. There stands Sir Walter Scott. You must admire him at least.”
This, he reluctantly conceded. “Aye, Scott’s scribblings were at least written with a man in mind. The other poets are naught but dandies and tulips putting on airs. For my part, ‘tis those two barmaids who have m’interest.”
Jessie laughed. “And you...not even in the petticoat line!”
