Sinfully Yours (Hellions of High Street 2)

“Or do you just prefer to make drawings of weaponry?”

“You are an artist of weaponry?” exclaimed Prince Gunther. “Lord Dunbar’s collection of antique armaments is said to contain many unique examples of Scottish claymores and crossbows. For someone interested in the subject, they must afford some superb opportunities for sketching.”

“Lord Davenport is jesting,” she replied tightly. “Please pay no attention to him. I assure you, my drawing skills are no more than ordinary.”

“You are far too modest,” said Devlin. “From what I saw, your rendering of a pistol was extremely accurate.”

“Oh, but pistols and poniards are such dreadfully boring subjects.” Lady de Blois, the widowed French comtesse who had accompanied her sister and brother-in-law to Scotland, sidled up to the table. A buxom blonde, she was wearing an emerald-colored velvet gown with a plunging neckline and a glittering array of matching gems.

“I much prefer to sketch handsome men.” Tracing a finger over the teardrop-shaped pendant nestled between her breasts, the comtesse added, “And beautiful baubles.”

“Lord Dunbar has a lovely collection of Renaissance jewelry on display in the Sculpture Room,” said the prince.

The comtesse batted her kohl-darkened lashes. “Oh, really? Perhaps you would help me locate it sometime tomorrow. I find it impossible to navigate my way around the castle.”

“The prince likely has many official documents to review and decisions to make during his leisure time,” interrupted Devlin smoothly. “While I, indolent idler that I am, have no responsibilities at all. So I would be delighted to serve a guide whenever you like.”

“How accommodating of you, sir. I, too, have no responsibilities, so it seems we are well matched.” Lady de Blois tapped his sleeve coyly with her fan. “I imagine there are many fascinating things to see here, especially for two people with no other distractions.”

Anna couldn’t help but notice that Devlin’s gaze was glued on her décolletage.

“Indeed there are.” He smiled.

A wolfish smile.

“Perhaps we should leave these two to arrange their Grand Tour while we discuss books, Your Highness.” Forcing her eyes away from the sinuous stretch of Devlin’s lips, Anna suddenly felt compelled to show that that she, too, knew how to flutter a flirtatious look. “Shall we find a quiet spot to sit and talk? I would love to hear more about medieval manuscripts.”

“I could ask one of the servants to fetch an example so that I can point out some of the artistic nuances,” said Prince Gunther. “That is, if you are sure that I will not be boring you.”

“Oh, not at all,” answered Devlin for her. “Miss Sloane greatly enjoys expanding her knowledge of the world…” His pause was almost imperceptible. Quite likely only she noticed it. “…intellectual and otherwise.”

Anna tried to remain annoyed, and yet his Be-Damned-to-the-Devil sense of humor couldn’t help but provoke an inner laugh.

He must have sensed her reaction, for as she passed on the prince’s arm he flashed a roguish wink.

She pretended not to see it.

“Enjoy perusing the painted pages,” he murmured.

“Enjoy admiring the baubles,” she shot back.

His laugh was light as a zephyr and lasted only an instant. And yet its sound seemed to tickle against the nape of her neck long after she had crossed to the other side of the room.

Rising early, determined to spend the day at work in her room while the others spent their hours in play, Anna made her way down to the breakfast room. Given the copious amount of wine consumed by everyone the previous evening, she was sure that she would have little company.

However, the sounds coming out through the doorway announced that she was wrong.

“…an emerald ring!”

Anna recognized Lady de Blois’s voice, although this morning it was more shrill than sultry.

“The stone was very large, and very valuable.”

As she entered the room, she saw Lady Dunbar, flanked by her solemn butler and housekeeper, facing the comtesse. “Perhaps it inadvertently fell from your dressing table?” suggested the countess in some concern. “Have you made a careful search of the room?”

“My maid has looked,” replied Lady de Blois, clasping her hands to her chest. “It is nowhere to be found.”

“I am quite sure it will turn up,” soothed Lady Dunbar. “Please, come sit in my private parlor and have a calming cup of chocolate while Givens and Mrs. Gorman organize a thorough combing of your quarters.”