The Fortune Hunter (6 page)

“My lord, I assure you.…” Nerissa halted herself as his smile broadened. Knowing she should ask him to take his fancy manners from her home, she was startled when her lips tilted in an answering grin.

“Much better. Your smile tells me you are as well as can be expected. I have found, Miss Dufresne, that words are often false, but, upon watching a face with its quirks, the truth can be uncovered.”

“I'm astounded. I didn't guess you to possess such rare talents that you could guess my thoughts before I spoke.”

He laughed, the sound swirling through her without the pain of the previous day. Instead it was accompanied by an undeniable happiness at being in the company of this handsome and needle-witted man.

“Such a skill would be of wonder, Miss Dufresne, for it would strip one's opponents as bare as birth. If I possessed such a gift, I wouldn't have needed to follow my brother here. I would have known you are suffering little damage.”

“Considering that both of us could have been injured seriously, I think we should count ourselves lucky.”

Lord Windham stood. “I can do nothing about your arm, Miss Dufresne, but …” Going to the door, he opened it and picked up a round box she had not seen when he entered. He closed the door. As he walked toward her, he held out the box, which was covered with pink silk and topped by a velvet ribbon. “For you.”

“For me?” Nerissa flushed when she realized she sounded as if she was still in the schoolroom.

He placed the box in her lap, then—with a grimace as he saw she would have trouble undoing the red bow—he leaned forward to untie it. Lifting off the top, he urged, “Look inside, Miss Dufresne.”

Nerissa pushed aside the tissue and pulled out a delicately made straw bonnet that was decorated with feathers and a silk ribbon of the most delicate blue she had ever seen. Its design was of the highest kick.

“If it isn't to your liking, Miss Dufresne,” he continued, “you may return it to the millinery shop on—”

“It's lovely,” she whispered, not caring that she interrupted him as she admired the fashionable bonnet. It must have cost him dear. “But, my lord, such a gift! I can't accept it!”

“It needs to be worn to be appreciated.” He ignored her protests as, with a chuckle, he took the box and set it on the floor. “That is a direct quote from
Madame
de Ramel, the milliner who sold me this bonnet. She was curious about why I was buying this and for whom. You have made me the source of rumors throughout Bath, Miss Dufresne.”

“It takes little for scandal to burst into being in Bath.”

“That is part of its charm. Now shall we see if this hat is equally charming?”

Lord Windham's smile matched the amusement in his eyes as he settled the bonnet on her head. The long ribbons drooped onto Nerissa's sling, but he was mindful of her injury as he lifted them and tied the silk beneath her chin. Taking a step back, he nodded.

“
Madame
was right. The hat is much lovelier on. Don't think me lathering you, Miss Dufresne, when I say that it is perfect for you.” He held out his hand as he pointed toward the looking glass set between the two windows. “Would you like to see how entrancing you look?” He hesitated, then asked in a more serious tone, “Do you need help?” He held out his hand.

Surprised by his considerate question and the warmth swirling through her, Nerissa hesitated. She should let him help her. She would have accepted any other man's assistance without faltering, but Lord Windham was different. She wasn't sure why, but the idea of touching his hand—even so chastely—frightened her. She didn't fear him, but her reaction to him. It was like nothing else she had ever felt.

Disdaining his hand, she stood quickly. Too quickly, she realized, when the room threatened to telescope into blackness. She took carefully calculated steps toward the pier glass. As she stood in front of it, the dark mist slowly faded to reveal her bruised face topped by the stylish hat. Lord Windham was correct. It
was
perfect for her. The ribbons accented the color of her eyes, and the stylish brim shadowed the bruises on her face.

She started to comment, but the words vanished, unspoken, when the mirror revealed Lord Windham standing behind her. His breath warmed her nape as he murmured, “Very nice.”

For a moment, she was certain he had no idea how he threatened to overmaster her when he stood so close to her. Then, when she saw the hint of challenge in his smile, she knew he was acutely aware of every motion he made and how it affected those around him. She would not allow him to put her out of countenance with his pranks. When she faced him, she was amazed when he did not step away.

Boldly, he touched the fringe hanging from her sling. “I hope the damage to your arm can be dealt with as swiftly as your hat, Miss Dufresne.”

“As I told Mr. Windham, time will be the best healer.” Running her other hand along the fringe, she pushed his fingers aside in what she hoped would appear to be a casual motion. “To own the truth,” she added, as she turned away, “I wear this to satisfy my anxious abigail. She wishes to see me cosseted in bed with plenty of tea and cookies, as if I was still in short coats. I'd as lief wear this than suffer her distress.”

“You are wise.” He glanced toward the clock. “Forgive me, but I must end this fascinating meeting, Miss Dufresne. May we continue it at Mr. Rowland's party tomorrow evening?”

“I am afraid not. I wasn't invited.”

“Then allow me to rectify that.” He smiled as she opened her mouth to protest. “Don't think me a ramshackle cove again. I assure you that I'm not. At least, not now. Rowland is having an open house for those who enjoy playing a few hands of cards. Do you find that a pleasant pastime?”

“Yes,” she said, then wished she had remained silent as he took her hand and bowed over it. His skin was not soft like Cole's. Its coarse caress inspired a renewed pulse within her, not of pain, but a sensation as potent. She held her breath as she wondered would he be so brazen as to kiss her fingers as his brother had attempted and what she would do if he did?

Her worries were allayed when he raised his head. “My carriage and I are at your disposal, Miss Dufresne. Shall nine o'clock be convenient for me to call for you?”

Nerissa smiled. He must not guess how bewildered she felt. When had she lost control of the conversation? She must regain mastery of it and herself before Lord Windham called again. If she failed, she did not want to consider what the consequences might be.

Chapter Four

Rain splattered on the walkway when Nerissa emerged from the carriage. Drawing her shawl closer around the shoulders of her white muslin gown so it covered the lacy sling, she was glad she had left the lovely bonnet Lord Windham had given her yesterday at home. The white chip hat she wore tilted back on her head, revealing too many of the bruises on her face, she realized when a gentleman hurried past, then turned to regard her with an openmouthed gawk. He nearly collided with a wrought-iron fence before turning to vanish into the misty rain.

Nerissa took a deep breath and tried to force a smile. The motion hurt her face, so she gave up the attempt as she went to the door with its curved window above it in the center of Camden Crescent.

The Ehrlich family had lived in the elegant town house since shortly after it had been built. The tall columns along the first and second floor did not match the simplicity of the ground floor. As she stepped out of the rain, Nerissa smiled at the image of an elephant carved in the lintel. Such frivolity did not fit the fancy row of houses, but it suited Annis perfectly.

When the door was opened by a smiling
major domo
, she thought wistfully how wondrous it would be to be greeted each time she returned to Laura Place by such a friendly face. “Good afternoon, Cunliffe. Is Miss Annis at home this afternoon?”

“You know she is always home to you, Miss Dufresne.” The short, muscular man, who appeared as though he would be more comfortable in a boxing match than in the navy and scarlet livery of the Ehrlich family, opened the door wider. “I shall …”

Nerissa was not to find out what he planned to do, for his words ended in a strangled gurgle as she stepped into the broad entrance hall. With the light from the brass chandelier emphasizing the malevolent colors of her bruises, she was not surprised by his reaction.

He mumbled something and scurried away to find Annis. Touching the puffiness on her cheek, Nerissa sighed. She had no intention of staying hidden in her house until the outward signs of the accident healed.

On the street side of the foyer, small curtains bunched over the top of the tall windows, letting in what little light had oozed through the grey clouds. Two mirrors offered her the opportunity to check her appearance. One was hung between the windows; the other set over a small table placed next to a door that led to another corridor beyond and the servants' stairs to the kitchen in the cellar. As she crossed the wooden floor with its inlaid pattern of circles and flowers, she avoided looking in the mirrors.

“Nerissa!” came a shout from the top of the curving stairs to the left. Annis Ehrlich ran down them at an indecorous pace.

Annis had the misfortune to resemble her dour-faced father instead of her glorious mother. With two older sisters who were the epitome of Mrs. Ehrlich's beauty, Annis had accustomed herself to living in the shadow of their splendor. Not that she was not dainty of ankle or prettily spoken, but Annis's drooping locks and plain features caused people—who did not look close enough—to fail to note her sweet smile and the twinkle of gaiety in her brown eyes.

From the moment Nerissa had been introduced to Annis, she had liked the woman who was nearly of her age. Annis had been kind and acquainted Nerissa with the many and oftentimes strange customs of Bath and its society which were as strict as the
ton
in London. When Annis had included Nerissa in parties hostessed by Annis's recently married sister, she had helped Nerissa to meet the people who had dismissed Cole as not having a spark of spirit to brighten their conversations.

Dressed today in a muslin dress with bishop's sleeves that were decorated with golden ribbons, she hurried forward to take Nerissa's hands in slim fingers. Tears glittered in her wide eyes.

“Oh, my dearest Nerissa, look at you. You have fallen down and trodden on your eye.”

“It is rather black, isn't it?” she asked with a smile as they walked up the stairs and into the cozy parlor which looked out over the street. She was glad when she discovered the room was empty. The rest of the Ehrlich family was troublesome at best, and Nerissa was honestly not at her most patient today.

Nerissa laughed as Annis cooed over her with dismay while ringing for tea. Lightly, Nerissa said, “I can vow that I look much worse than I feel today. If you had called yesterday, I could not have said the same.”

“Dear me, dear me, look at your face. It has put me quite to the stare. It's nearly the purple shade of the ribbons on your gown. How long will you have to remain quiet before you can come for a ride with me again?” She put her hand to her full bosom. “Dear me, listen to me! How can I speak to you of plans for taking a ride when if we had gone in the carriage yesterday this would never have happened? What kind of friend abandons her dearest bosom bow to go for a walk alone and allows something like this to happen? I swear that I cried myself to sleep last night when Mama told me that you were hurt. If you wish for me to—”

Putting her fingers on Annis's arm to interrupt her, Nerissa said soothingly, “Sit down, and stop babbling. You are making yourself overwrought over nothing. It was but an accident. It could have happened to anyone.”

“But it happened to you!” A sigh burst from her. “And 'tis all my doing.”

“Nonsense. It was none of your doing. Lord Windham merely—”

“Lord Windham? Hamilton Windham?” Her eyes grew even wider. “
He
did this to you?”

Nerissa sat on a comfortable chair and smiled when Annis pushed an embroidered stool toward her. Setting her feet on it compliantly, she leaned back and said, “It was only an accident.”

“‘Wastrel Windam' does nothing by accident, if one is to believe
on dits.
”

Nerissa's brow furrowed, but she ignored the pain for the first time. “I find your words unseemly. The viscount was very gracious, Annis. It's unlike you to speak unkindly of someone you don't know.” She faltered, her coolness fading into uncertainty. “Or do you know him?”

“Only
of
him.” Annis wrung her hands as she perched on the edge of a green silk settee. “It was rumored he would wed Elinor Howe, who was the widow of his best friend.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “They were constantly together in London. Constantly together, if you understand what I mean.”

“I understand,” she answered emotionlessly.

“Then he set Mrs. Howe aside and came here to Bath. It was most mysterious. You should be grateful you escaped with only an abrased face, for he has made no attachment to any woman since, although he has kept company with many.”

She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. The words oddly disturbed her, for she had guessed Lord Windham to be a man of honor. Not that such habits would label him anything but a member of the
ton
. The flirtations they enjoyed were nothing like the quiet existence she knew with her brother.

“All I can say is that he was the perfect gentleman with me.”

“Gentleman maybe,” came a shrill voice from the doorway, “but I doubt if anyone—even you, Nerissa, in your charity—would call Lord Windham perfect.”

Nerissa had to struggle to keep from frowning. Janelle Ehrlich was the opposite of her sister. As lovely as the first morning of spring, she had a temper as fiery as August heat and a demeanor as unwelcome as a January sunset. Swaying into the room, her wrapper a delicate shade of pink to accent her golden hair, she dropped next to her sister. A servant followed, carrying a tea tray set for two. Janelle did not wait for the others, but helped herself to a cake and a cup of the steaming tea.