All About Passion (Cynster 7)

Devil went to nod, then laughed and clapped Gyles on the shoulder. “We’re hardened cases. Here we are, put out because there’s no dragon present to vanquish.”

Gyles grinned. “True.” He glanced at Devil. “I suspect that, as far as tonight goes, we’d be wiser to set the problem aside and enjoy ourselves.”

Devil had found Honoria. She was watching them through the crowd. “And if we don’t, we’ll only bring an inquisition down on our heads.”

“There is that. We’ll meet tomorrow and see where we stand.”

They parted, Devil to cross the room to Honoria, Gyles to circulate until he found his way to Francesca’s side. He was standing beside her, conscious of pride and something more primal, when Charles, a late arrival, came to make his bow.

“Only me.” He smiled at Francesca. “This wouldn’t do for Franni, as you know, but I couldn’t miss the occasion.”

“I’m very glad you came.” Francesca pressed his hands. “Is Ester well?”

“Indeed-she’s sitting with Franni.”

“And Franni?”

Charles’s eyes dimmed. “She’s… well, it’s hard to say. Her behavior’s erratic… difficult.” He forced a smile. “But in general terms, yes, she’s well.”

A lady approached Francesca-with a last smile for Charles, she had to turn away.

Charles shifted to Gyles’s side. “This is a remarkable turnout. You must be pleased.”

“Indeed-Francesca’s worked wonders.”

“I always knew she would.”

“I do recall you being very certain of her abilities. For that, and your wise counsel last August, you have my undying gratitude.”

“Ah, well.” Charles looked at Francesca. “It seems to me the right choice was made all around.”

Gyles was sure he heard Fate chuckling.

Charles turned back to him. “You’ll understand if I don’t remain long. We’re returning to Hampshire the day after tomorrow, so tomorrow will be busy.”

Gyles felt a pang of relief. He held out his hand. “I’ll wish you and Ester and Franni a good journey now, in case I don’t see you before you leave. But now you’re here, do take the opportunity to meet some of the others.”

“I will.” Charles released his hand, took his leave of Francesca, then wandered into the crowd.

Gyles watched him go. He liked Charles, had from the first, but he was glad to know Franni would soon be leaving London, would, within days, be hidden away once again in deepest Hampshire. He now understood Charles’s wish to live quietly, removed from the eyes of the polite world. Protected from that world, from the whispers, the pointing fingers.

Society was not kind to those like Franni. Gyles understood Charles’s stance and respected him for it.

He glanced at Francesca. He understood her, too, enough to know that loyalty and devotion came naturally, a part of her she wouldn’t deny. A part he couldn’t ask her to deny. Explaining his nebulous unease over Franni was something he’d rather not attempt, given Francesca saw Franni as merely childish, backward, disturbed because of her mother’s death.

There was more to Franni’s strangeness than that-he would take his oath on it-yet she was such a helpless soul, how could he speak against her?

Over the past week, the plans for tonight had taken all Francesca’s time; he hadn’t had to worry she’d try to visit Franni. Given Francesca’s character, forbidding her to see her cousin was out of the question, persuading her to that end wasted breath. But if Franni would soon be gone, he wouldn’t need to speak, to steer Francesca from her company purely to ease his very likely unjustified, totally amorphous concern.

He remembered Franni as he’d last seen her-remembered the burning look in her pale eyes-and uttered a heartfelt silent “thank-you” to Charles for resolving his problem for him.

Francesca turned to him. He smiled as she introduced a young cousin shortly to make her come-out.

For Francesca, the evening was perfect and more, a triumph unmarred by any infelicitous occurrence. All proceeded exactly as planned, and the turn out of Rawlingses exceeded her wildest expectations.

“I never imagined so many would come.” Tired but inexpressibly happy, she leaned against Gyles as, with the house at last quiet about them, the very last guests gone, they strolled toward their apartments.

“I never imagined there were so many.” Gyles’s arm about her waist tightened briefly. “You performed a miracle.”