Passionately Yours (Hellions of High Street 3)

“Yes,” responded Isobel at the same time.

“Lord Strathcona is not fond of anything English,” explained Caro.

Including me.

Andover smiled politely at Isobel. “I do hope you haven’t taken the same aversion to our country and its people, Miss…”

“Oh, forgive me,” said Caro, and quickly performed the requisite introductions.

“As to your question, Lord Andover, so far I have had a very pleasant stay here in Bath,” said Isobel.

“Excellent, excellent. We must see that your experience remains a favorable one.”

Caro saw Isobel cast a longing glance at the dance floor. Giving Andover a discreet nudge, she waggled a brow. “Oh, look Andy—a new set is forming already.”

Taking his cue, Andover dutifully set aside his punch glass. “Miss Urquehart, might I ask for your hand in this dance?”

Two spots of color appeared on Isobel’s cheeks. “Me? B-b-but surely you ought to ask Caro.”

“No, no, poor Andy has been very kind in keeping me company…” Caro lowered her voice. “He is far too gentlemanly to admit it, but I’m sure he’ll be greatly relieved not to have to worry about frogs or snakes appearing in his pockets.”

“You don’t, I trust, have any reptiles hidden in your reticule, Miss Urquehart?” murmured Andover.

Isobel stifled a giggle. “No, milord. There were none the last time I looked.”

“Excellent.” He offered his arm. “Shall we?”

“Th-thank you.” Her face pink with pleasure, Isobel placed her hand on his sleeve.

“Frogs?” murmured Alec, as they moved away to join the other couples on the dance floor.

“It’s a long story,” replied Caro. “I was still in the schoolroom.”

“Ah.”

It was hard to tell in the shifting shadows of the leaves, but she thought she detected a slight twitch in his solemn expression.

“It’s fortuitous that Andy is very good natured,” she explained. “Lady Tilden threatened to have him banned from the ballrooms of Mayfair for the remainder of the Season when her French chef’s special soup started croaking in the middle of a fancy supper party.”

He made an odd little sound in his throat. If it hadn’t been Alec, she might have taken it for a chuckle.

“Now, if it had been turtle soup,” he drawled, “His Lordship might have been able to talk his way out of trouble.”

Caro drew in a deep breath. And let it out in a low laugh. “I’m shocked, sir. You actually have a very sly sense of humor.”

“I do?” He sounded rather bemused by the idea.

“Yes.” Caro wished she could see his eyes through his lowered lashes. “Definitely.”

Alec reached up to brush one of the swaying fronds off his shoulder. “I

shall try to nip it in the bud.”

“Don’t,” she blurted out. “It’s rather nice.”

He finally allowed his gaze to meet hers. The connection sent a frisson of fire—or was it ice—down her spine.

“That is,” she stammered, “it’s nicer than constantly being at daggers drawn with you.”