Passionately Yours (Hellions of High Street 3)

“Roman ruins,” finished Alec.

“A fascinating topic,” said Andover, who had followed a few steps behind Isobel. He darted an amused glance at Alec and then at the ruins. “Clever chaps, those Romans. Very adept with their hands.”

Alec gave a strangled cough. “Yes, weren’t they? The lettering on the column is quite interesting.”

“Oh, really?” Andover raised a brow. “What does it say?”

The rather lengthy reply, uttered in classical Latin, then translated into English, quickly wiped the look of amusement off his face. “Er, right-ho. Well, we just came to say that it’s getting late and the ferryman will soon be arriving to collect us. Why don’t I hurry back and start packing up the hampers so we are not tardy.”

“An excellent suggestion,” said Alec.

“I’ll come along and help,” volunteered Caro. Not waiting for an answer, she hurried to take Andover’s arm. A little shove started his feet moving. “We shall meet you and Isobel at the fork in the main footpath,” she called over her shoulder to Alec.

“You can stop pulling at my sleeve,” murmured Andover, once they were out of earshot. “My valet will swoon if he finds the fabric stretched. He is very fond of this coat.”

Caro released her grip.

“Might I ask—”

“No!” she said. “In fact, if you say a word on the subject, I shall… I shall see to it that you don’t get the last slice of strawberry tart.”

“Oh, dear.” He stifled a chuckle. “In that case, my lips are sealed.”

“Good.” She marched on in awkward silence, hoping her cheeks weren’t as flaming as they felt.

He let several more moments pass before asking, “And what happens when the tart is gone?”

“I shall think of something else,” answered Caro sharply. “And as you know, I have a very vivid imagination, so unless you want something slimy and slithery appearing at an inopportune moment, you’ll not mention the matter again.”

“I didn’t know you had

developed such an interest in Roman antiquities,” remarked Isobel as she and Alec started down the lower footpath.

“Don’t be impertinent,” he said, summoning his most imperious scowl to accentuate his words.

The warning silenced her. But only for a few steps.

“Caro is exceedingly nice, as well as exceedingly interesting, don’t you think?”

“Don’t be impertinent,” he repeated.

She lifted her chin and waggled a brow. “Since when is it impertinent to speak the truth?”

He pursed his lips, wondering how to extract himself with any dignity from a very deep hole. No doubt it served him right for being a bloody fool.

“Since I have invoked the privileges of an older—and wiser—brother to say it is so,” he answered, deciding humor was the only option.

As he had intended, she laughed. However the sound quickly floated away on the breeze—along with his hope that she would drop the subject.

“Caro is very knowledgeable about poetry.” Isobel picked up where she had left off. “Apparently she writes it as well, though she hasn’t yet shown me her work.”

“I am well aware of Miss Caro’s interests,” snapped Alec.

“And?”

“And that is the end of this conversation.”

His sister fixed him with a searching look. “Because you intend to live in the past for the rest of your days?”