Sinfully Yours (Hellions of High Street 2)

Josette carefully plumped the pillows on the bed. “But not from the dark-haired one they call the Devil?”

A harried exhale momentarily fogged her reflection. “W-what makes you say that?”

“Very little goes on upstairs that isn’t discussed downstairs, mademoiselle,” replied her maid.

“But of course. What a buffle-headed question.” Anna loosened the last of the pins. “My wits don’t seem to seem to be working very well of late.”

Josette maintained a tactful silence as she retrieved the ribbon from the carpet and twined it into a neat coil.

Biting her lip, Anna watched the slowly undulating flame of her candle as she started to brush out her hair, hoping its soft sway might help soothe her unsettled emotions. With a pang of longing, she realized how much she missed the company of her older sister. Olivia’s steady good sense and sage wisdom could always be counted on to help untangle any problem.

Despite the flicker of firegold light, Anna felt her spirits sink deeper into darkness. It was dreadfully hard having no one to confide in. Caro was not yet experienced enough to give advice about men, and as for her mother…

Mama and I are as different as chalk and cheese.

A sniff slipped out of its own accord, causing the candleflame to waver.

“Is there a reason you are feeling…I think you English call it blue-deviled?” asked Josette softly.

“Oh, please.” Anna forced a smile. “I would rather not hear the word ‘devil’ any more tonight.”

“Ah.” Her maid perched a hip on the edge of the dressing table and tucked her skirts around her legs. “Men.”

“Men,” she echoed. If anyone had experience in the vagaries of life, and all its hard-edged realities, it was Josette. Drawing a deep breath, she ventured to add, “They can be awfully confusing.”

“Oui,” agreed her maid. “At times, one is tempted to strangle them—or rather him.”

“Oh, I can’t tell you how comforting it is to hear that,” quipped Anna. “I thought perhaps it was just me.”

“Trust me, if there is one sentiment all women share, it is that.” Josette folded her hands in her lap. “If there is anything you wish to talk about, I am happy to listen.” A pause. “Be assured that I don’t gossip, mademoiselle.”

Anna hesitated, but somehow felt that her maid could be taken at her word. “I ought to be able to ignore him. And yet, the Devil—that is, Lord Davenport—has the infuriating ability to make me lose my temper. And I never lose my temper.” She frowned. “It’s very puzzling.”

“You wish for me to offer an answer?”

“Very much so.”

“It’s because you are very attracted to the man. Perhaps you are even a tiny bit in love with him.”

“But that makes no sense,” said Anna.

Josette’s low laugh caused the pale curl of candle smoke to dissolve in the darkness. “That is the first thing you must understand about love, mademoiselle—it makes no sense. It comes from the heart, not the brain, and the heart can be very stupid about these things.”

“I see there is much I have to learn on the subject.” Anna was acutely aware of the thump, thump inside her chest. “I wish there were a book on the subject that, you know, spelled out the rules.”

“There are a great many that claim to know the secrets. But I daresay they wouldn’t do you much good. Love is not like a recipe for pigeon pie. There is no list of ingredients that can be mixed together to create a perfect result. It is different for every individual. You simply have to trust your instincts.” Josette’s mouth tweaked up at the corners. “Trust your passions.”

“But passion can lead a lady into trouble,” mused Anna.

“Yes, yes, I know. You English are cautious. Perhaps too cautious. We French believe that—”

“A lady should be a little dangerous,” she finished.

“Oui. Risk makes you feel more alive.”

“I—I think I know what you mean,” said Anna, as the memory of the afternoon made her skin begin to prickle with heat. “It must be the same for men, Lord Davenport seems engaged in some strange—” Catching herself, she decided that her speculations were not something that ought to be mentioned. “Oh, never mind. I am quite likely wrong.”

Josette rose. “I think perhaps you have enough to occupy your thoughts for now, so I shall bid you good night. Shall I lay out your nightrail before I go?”