Unbidden, her thoughts led her to the earl’s proposal to have an affaire. Indeed, she had thought of little else lately. What would the harm be? Who would it hurt? As long as he didn’t recognize her, no one. Except, perhaps, her.
After she judged enough time had gone by for the gentlemen to have passed, she left the shop. Though first she had to refuse, with a barely concealed shudder, the milliner’s suggestion she try on the feathered confection.
After completing her errands, Ria and her maid made their way back to the inn where her carriage was waiting. Just before she reached it, a flash of light reflecting off metal in a shop window caught her attention, and she stopped to see what was on display.
A deep voice behind her drawled, “And here I thought you would be transfixed at the sight of a shawl, dress, or another bonnet. I never dreamed you would be admiring weapons.”
Ria briefly closed her eyes. The mere sound of Luc’s voice was enough to make her cheeks flush and nerves dance.
He continued. “I believe the bird on the bonnet you were admiring in the milliners is already dead.”
He’d seen her in the milliner’s. Embarrassment that he might realize she’d ducked into the shop to avoid him had her cheeks burn even brighter.
She continued to look at the pistols until her blush subsided and then turned. “I wasn’t sure, and so thought to put it out of its misery.”
He laughed, and a dancing light appeared in his green eyes as he said, “I believe it is quite definitely deceased, Mrs. St. James, so you may rest easy on that score.”
“That is a relief. Thank you for your reassurance.”
The light in his eyes dimmed slightly as he gave her an appraising look, “Are you a crack shot then, Mrs. St. James?”
“I must confess I am not.” Feeling the need to explain her interest in the weapons, she added, “I do, however, have an appreciation for good workmanship.”
With a smil
e, he gestured to a small brass and mahogany pocket pistol. “If you decide to purchase one for yourself, I would recommend that weapon. It would fit in your muff or reticule and be effective at close range.”
“Thank you, my lord. I will bear it in mind. Perhaps it would prove useful for persistent suitors.”
His smile broadened, but he did not respond. Instead he gestured to his companion. “Mrs. St. James, may I introduce Lord Lyons.”
Ria, embarrassed at not having noticed Devon until that moment, smiled at him with more warmth than she would normally. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Lyons.”
He returned her smile with one of his own. “I’m delighted to meet you, Mrs. St. James.”
After a glance at Luc, he added, “In the past I rarely stayed more than a night or two at Lyons House. During this sojourn, I’ve realized that was a mistake—there are attractions in the country of which I was unaware. I’m pleased my stay will be an extended one while I oversee the refurbishment of the house.”
To her puzzlement, Luc frowned at his friend. When the marquess smiled at him, he gave him a black look.
Ignoring their byplay, Ria deliberately misunderstood Devon’s comment. “Yes. Lord Arden said something similar the other day.”
Judging by the marquess’s rueful smile, she thought he may have got her point about his lack of originality. Airily she continued, “Have you visited the Roman ruins yet? They are particularly fine in winter. The mist gives them an added air of mystery.”
As she and Devon discussed other locations visitors would find interesting, Luc began to frown once again. She was confused by his manner. What was wrong?
Ignoring him, Ria told Devon, “Actually, Lord Lyons, I have just come from seeing my solicitor who informed me that you and I may share a common ancestor.”
Luc’s frown deepened further as the marquess smiled warmly at her. “I would be delighted if that were the case. When next we meet, perhaps we could compare family trees.”
To her confusion, Luc abruptly interrupted their conversation to remind his friend of an appointment they had. Devon was all smiles and charm as he bid her goodbye while Luc was brusque.
Perplexed, Ria continued to the inn. She was almost there when she saw a mother and daughter entering a nearby modiste’s shop. The mother was smiling at her daughter affectionately. Seeing a wistful look on her maid’s face, Ria said, “Mary, your parents have a stall in the market, don’t they?”
“Yes, madam.”
“I have no need of you until this evening. You may visit with them if you wish.”
Mary smiled broadly at her and curtsied. “Thank you, madam.”