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With a light laugh, Mina went to inform their cook to prepare refreshments for her aunt. She was brimming with an eagerness she hadn’t felt since last Christmas. And then she had only managed to buy the ingredients and have the cook prepare a delicious pot of chocolate, a treat which the entire household had enjoyed that Christmas morning, including their four servants. Now they had been whittled down to two loyal retainers who had been without wages for several weeks. Mina could not imagine managing the household duties without them.
After speaking with their cook, Mina hurried up the small staircase to her bedchamber, opening the armoire to assess which would be the best dress to wear for this interview. Her wardrobe was sadly lacking, and the dresses were all outdated and some well-worn. Still, she selected a modest dark blue satin gown that was plain with no ruffles and laces. Hopefully it would allow her to present a picture of professionalism.
“Oh, drat,” she muttered at seeing a few loose threads at the seams. She would darn it as best as she could for the interview. She reached under her bed and removed a small treasure box and flicked open the latch. Reaching inside, she picked up three reference letters that she had carefully garnered over the last two years. Two were from gentry families from Norfolk who had married up and wanted their daughters as polished as possible for their marriages. The final reference was from a ton lady, who had taken in a cousin who needed discreet etiquette lessons. It had taken some persuasion, but the viscountess had given Mina a wonderful recommendation. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Mina took out the letter and read it again.
Two thousand pounds. Even now this offer felt remarkable and in the realm of fantasy. It was a fortune when they had no other means to survive. Everything depended on Mina’s wit, skills, and ingenuity. Her dreams were on the precipice of reality, and she must impress upon this gentleman that she could expertly do the task he required.
“Mr. Fairbanks,” she whispered, tracing the tip of her fingers over his elegant scrawl. “Thank you, sir, thank you.”
* * *
A few days later,as Mina turned up the steps of a most charming four-story townhouse in Mayfair, a black lacquered, well-sprung carriage clattered to a stop. Her feet had reached the second step, but she turned to stare as a gentleman jumped from the carriage without waiting for the steps to be lowered by the coachman’s tiger. The gentleman was laughing, a carefree and sensual sound. She stilled, her heart stuttering in a rather odd manner. A lady framed the doorway of the carriage as if she too would jump down. She was a beautiful redhead, and Mina assessed her expensive redinggote; it was emerald green with hussar styling and plenty of ornate gold braid. It must have cost a pretty penny. The man quickly rushed to her; and, to Mina’s shock, the lady grabbed his superfine jacket and brazenly kissed him on his mouth. And it was a kiss unlike any Mina had ever witnessed. It was wild, and salacious and set her heart to pounding an uneven rhythm.
The gentleman broke the embrace and murmured something to the lady, who prettily pouted. However, she nodded and withdrew into the carriage, allowing the man to close the door. Mina couldn’t explain why she stood there, observing something that had nothing to do with her.
He turned around, his steps faltering when he saw her on the steps. Mina was instantly assailed by a peculiar feeling of warmth which blossomed over her entire body. The gentleman was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark brown hair, and such beautiful, cobalt blue eyes. He was arguably one of the best-looking men she had ever seen. Mina did not like that she noticed the attractiveness of his appearance, for she greatly appreciated wit and intelligence more than a handsome countenance. Worse, this was a man who had engaged in lascivious activity where anyone could see, with little care that a scandal might be created. Did he have no care at all for propriety?
A small frown creased his forehead, and he tugged at his cravat which was already loose. “Who do we have here?” he said, his gaze running over her buttoned-up blue dress to the tip of her polished boots, then back up to linger on her face.
Somehow Mina had owned the absurd notion that he would have walked away to another townhouse. Instead, the gentleman opened the small iron gate and strolled toward Mina, critically assessing her. There was nothing discreet about his regard, but Mina was not the sort to blush like a ninny because a lovely gentleman stared at her longer than was proper. Still, her heart flipped in a manner it had never done before, startling her. On the heels of that extraordinary reaction to the gentleman, an appalling thought occurred to her, and lifting her chin, painfully aware of her diminutive stature, she said, “I dearly hope you are not one of the hopeless cases with whom I am expected to work miracles.”
The gentleman…if he could be called that…blinked. “Why not?”
“I fear you might need more than a miracle. I assure you, rakes are never reformed.”
He made a tsking sound and smiled, the sheer tempting sensuality in the curve of his mouth an unexpected and dangerous assault on her senses. Mina was appalled at the way the fluttering in her belly went wild. Good heavens!
His eyes gleamed with an expression unknown to her. “A rake? I have never lived only for my own pleasure, a remarkable feat in itself. I would venture to say I am certainly no more than a rogue or a loveable scoundrel.”
Mina couldn’t imagine where he had the wherewithal to tease her in this manner. “To have behaved so salaciously where anyone could witness your debauchery is quite beyond the pale; surely you must know this, sir.”
His brows winged upward in surprise. “You call that little peck debauchery?”
“My good, sir, your mouths were tangled together,” Mina said, fighting the flush of heat at the memory.
“Hardly tangled for a second; hence, it was a peck,” he drawled.
Another pace brought him closer, and Mina hopped up another step, so she maintained the advantage of staring down at him. He noted her actions and canted his head. “Permit me to ask your name.”
Mina frowned. “Are you calling upon Mr. Fairbanks or by chance a relation?”
“There are four Mr. Fairbanks. I am the eldest.”
“The eldest?”
“Yes.”
She struggled to shown an unaffected composure. This could not be the gentleman who had written the letter. That man she had assumed to be in his dotage who owned some propriety at least. “You are Mr. Colin Fairbanks?”
He reached up as if to sweep off his hat and frowned. “Bloody hell. I must have lost it.”
“A man does not curse in the presence of a lady,” she said primly, feeling a small prick of guilt for only yesterday she had used that very curse.
I used it privately, she reminded herself. That distinction was important. Propriety was about maintaining the correct airs publicly.
Still, the man lowered his upper half in an exaggerated bow that was oddly charming. “Colin Fairbanks at your service and whom do I have the pleasure to address?”
“Miss Hermina Fernsby,” she said, holding out her gloved hand for him to take. Another breach in etiquette, and one she had mentioned in her book. Oh dear.
