Passionately Yours (Hellions of High Street 3)

Caro swallowed hard, her throat suddenly feeling dry as dust. She might be inexperienced in many ways, but she knew enough of the world from her family’s unconventional travels to understand that passion was a powerful force for both light and dark.

“What dark thoughts are bringing such shadows to your lovely face?”

She looked up to meet Thayer’s inquiring gaze.

“This is supposed to be an evening of merriment.” He held out a glass of champagne. “Come, you look as though you need a dash of effervescence added to your spirits.”

She accepted the wine and took a small sip. The coolness did feel good on her lips.

“You ought not be hiding your charms under a bush, as it were,” he went on, brushing a frond from his evening coat.

“I wished to take a respite from the heat and crowd of the dancing,” she replied.

Thayer offered his arm. “Then I daresay a stroll out on the terrace would offer a more pleasant interlude than huddling in the greenery.”

Though she would have preferred to remain alone with her thoughts, Caro reluctantly accepted his invitation. There was really nothing offensive about his manner, which was perfectly pleasant and polite, despite being a trifle overdone. So it seemed only fair to give him a second chance at changing her first impression.

Whatever thorn was pricking at her consciousness was likely the fault of her own straying into a mental briar patch.

“It is a very mild night, is it not?” remarked Thayer as he guided her through the French doors. “With such a clear sky, I daresay the chances are good that tomorrow will dawn bright and sunny.”

“I daresay you are right,” she replied, hoping the conversation wouldn’t stay mired in boring platitudes. Debating the likelihood of rain was even more tedious than discussing which type of sleeve was the most au courant choice for a ballgown. “Though I warn you, English weather can be changeable. Though not as violently so as in Scotland.”

“We can be a country of extremes,” commented Thayer. “In both our climate and our temperament.”

Her ears perked up. An interesting assessment. Perhaps he was more astute than she had imagined.

“Indeed?” she murmured, casting him a sidelong smile in further invitation to go on.

“Alas, yes. Sudden storms can blow in with little warning, and their fierceness can cause great harm, especially for those who are not used to them.” He blew out a long sigh. “I fear the same can be said for our people. The harsh conditions have made the Scots very tough, unyielding and independent—sometimes to a fault.”

“You paint a brutally honest portrait,” said Caro, deciding to test his candor. “Does the brush also capture your own likeness?”

He grinned. “I am, of course, the exception. Perhaps the several years I spent at Oxford helped rub off the rough edges. In any case, I would describe myself as a man of moderation in all ways.”

They were passing a pair of arched windows and something appeared to catch his eye within the glitter and gaiety of the Assembly room. “Unlike,” he added softly, “my esteemed countryman.”

Caro spotted Alec hovering in the shadows of the side saloon. “You mean Lord Strathcona?”

Thayer hesitated. “I do not wish to speak ill of a former friend, but he has a history of instability.” A cough. “Some might call it worse.”

“Worse?” she repeated.

“Suffice it to say, a young, gently bred lady would be prudent to be on guard in his presence.”

“Are you saying that a lady would have fears for her virtue?” she demanded.

The answer was more than eloquent. Lifting his shoulders, Thayer made a pained face.

It took great restraint for Caro to hold back a snort. Whatever Alec’s faults, he would never—never—act dishonorably toward the opposite sex. The certainty of that resonated right to the very depth of her heart.

“I think,” she said, once

her emotions were under control, “that you must be mistaken.”

“I assure you, I wish I were,” replied Thayer mournfully. “You don’t believe me?”

Not for an instant, she thought. But aloud, she gave a more tempered response. “No. Having some acquaintance with His Lordship, I find it hard to accept such an unrelentingly black portrait of the man.”