The Magic of I Do (Faerie 2)

“I haven’t decided yet.” She looked up at him like she was waiting for an invitation. “I have invited a lady to attend with me.”

Colette laughed. It was a throaty sound, more like a purr than merriment. It made his skin crawl. “Who is the lucky chit?” Colette asked. She pointed toward the back of the shop. “Certainly not Miss Thorne?”

“Certainly not,” he spit out, trying to look appalled. “Her father and my brother would skin me alive for even thinking of taking an innocent to such a place. I rather like my stones just as they are.”

***

Claire stood behind the curtain and gritted her teeth so loudly she was surprised Finn couldn’t hear her. But he kept talking with the lady he called Colette. And Claire listened. She’d take his stones herself if he even dared to attend a soiree with the modiste. She was awfully familiar with his person. And he seemed to be enamored of her breasts. He hadn’t taken his eyes off them as they talked.

Claire pushed the curtain to the side and stepped into the entryway. “Miss Thorne,” Finn said with a quick bow. “Did Colette see to your every need?”

“Not the way she wants to see to yours,” Claire muttered.

“Beg your pardon?” Finn asked. His eyes twinkled, so she knew he’d heard her.

“I have a small wardrobe to send with Miss Thorne,” the modiste said. “We just happened to have a customer who ordered a lot of clothes and left for the continent before she picked them up. We have been waiting for the right person to come along and claim them. We shortened the hem on this one, and we’re working on the rest.”

“You look lovely, Miss Thorne,” he said. His eyes jumped about on her body, rather like he was watching a tennis match. Did she discomfit him? Perhaps a bit.

“Thank you,” she replied. Her heart thrilled at the tiny compliment. “If you’d send the rest of the clothing to Robinsworth’s address?” he asked of the modiste.

“Robinsworth’s address?” The modiste looked startled. “Rumor has it that’s where you’re residing, my lord.”

Finn looked down his nose at the woman. “You’re certainly not implying that there’s anything untoward happening at Robinsworth’s?”

Claire thrilled as the modiste said, “Certainly not.” She turned to Claire and curtsied. “It was an honor seeing you today, my lady.”

Finn held out his arm and Claire laid her hand upon it. He led her out of the shop with a determined stride. It wasn’t until they were outside that he took a deep breath. “What’s your relationship with that woman?” Claire asked. She hated herself as soon as the words left her mouth. But she couldn’t keep from asking.

“Define ‘relationship,’” he said with an unrepentant grin.

“You’ve bedded her.” Claire’s heart thumped hard within her breast. She didn’t like the thought of him with the modiste at all. Not one bit. In fact, she had an uncommon urge to stomp back into the shop and jerk the woman’s hair from her head.

“That was a very long time ago.” He looked a little uncomfortable as he handed her into the carriage.

“Not long enough for her.” Claire harrumphed, falling back heavily against the squabs. “To what party was she referring?”

“Just a gathering.” He looked out the carriage window.

“Do you plan to attend?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“Why?” Her heart stuttered as she waited for his response.

“I need some information that can only be obtained at this soiree.”

“So, you do plan to attend.”

“Only if I can find someone to accompany me.”

“I would be happy to attend with you.”

“It’s not that kind of soiree,” he said with a harsh glance in her direction. “It’s not for ladies. It’s for people like Colette.”

“And like you.”

“And like me,” he agreed. “And not for ladies like you.”