“I’m sure your daughter will love anything that she’s written, but…very well.”
As Artemis perused Delaney’s range of Jane Austen titles, she was acutely aware of the stranger’s disconcerting presence behind her. Why she’d agreed to help him, she had no idea. If she had any sense at all, she’d turn and run as fast she could.
Because she was all too familiar with “gentlemen” like him. The confident, charismatic kind that turned your head and then broke your heart without so much as the bat of an eyelid. Even though she didn’t know his name—and it was telling indeed that he hadn’t offered his after he’d asked for hers—it was as clear as the aristocratic blade of a nose on his too-handsome face that he was a member of the upper class.
Ignoring the tripping of her heart, she reached for a copy ofPride and Prejudiceand thenEmma. “These two are my favorites,” she said, carefully handing them over so that her fingers wouldn’t accidentally come into contact with his again.
Mr. Aristocratic Byronic Hero took the volumes, but instead of leafing through the pages, he caught her gaze. Mischief danced in his eyes. “I take it these don’t contain references to Lucifer or any of his noteworthy anatomical features like Lydia Lovelace’s books do. As I mentioned, my daughterisonly fifteen.”
Artemis winced with embarrassment.Oh, dear.The gentleman had obviously taken note of her unconventional way of cursing yesterday when she’d dropped her carpetbag. And then she narrowed her gaze. “Actually, now I’m intrigued. How doyouknow Miss Lovelace’s books contain such references? It sounds as though you may have read a few yourself. If you’ll pardon the pun, how novel.”
Was it Artemis’s imagination, or did the crests of the gentleman’s carved cheekbones darken with a ruddy flush? “I’ve read…bits and pieces,” he said.
Artemis couldn’t resist casting him a knowing smile. “Trust a man to only focus on the salacious bits and pieces.”
He cocked a brow in challenge. “So you’re not denying her books are salacious?”
“Oh, yes. They are indeed,” agreed Artemis. At the risk of blowing her own trumpet, she added, “But I also believe they’re exciting and romantic and, quite frankly, just simply entertaining. However, I will concede that perhaps Miss Lovelace’s books might not be suitable for a fifteen-year-old unless she’s particularly mature for her age. Maybe in a year or two your daughter will be ready for such content.”
“Hmmm.” The stranger didn’t look at all convinced. His gaze returned to the leather-bound volumes in his hand. “So, tell me why you like Miss Austen’s books so much.”
Artemis considered his request, and given his serious expression, it seemed he really did wish to know her opinion. “Well, aside from her ability to create agreeable characters and an engaging narrative, I think she’s particularly adept at formulating witty conversational exchanges. And her observations about the human condition are insightful. I also like the way she portrays women. As if we have minds of our own.”
He smirked at that. “I’ve never met a woman who didn’t. Or one who’s afraid to tell me exactly what she thinks, for that matter. Especially if she believes she’s right and I’m wrong.”
Artemis arched a brow. “And I’m sure in your world, that’s a rare occurrence. That you’re wrong.”
“Goodness, we’ve only just met and yet you know me so well.”
“Not that well,” she rejoined. “You have me at a decided disadvantage, sir, because all this time we’ve been conversing, you haven’t shared your name.”
“And that is an unforgivably rude oversight on my part.” He performed an elegant bow. “Allow me to introduce myself, Miss Jones. Dominic Winters. At your service.”
It was Artemis’s turn to smirk. “Mr.Winters? Now why don’t I believe you are just a garden-variety mister?”
Dominic Winters’s eyebrows shot up. “Whatever do you mean? Are you accusing me of being dishonest?”
“I’m not easily taken in by flimflam, sir. White’s and Brooks’s are a mere stroll away, if I’m not mistaken. If you’re not a member of thebon ton, I’ll eat my soggy bonnet.”
He laughed out loud at that. A rich, deep, throaty chuckle that seemed to curl around her, inviting her to smile openly too. “We can certainly agree on one thing, Miss Jones,” he said. “Your bonnet has seen better days.”
Gah! Why was this man so…likable? Perhaps her first impression of him had been completely wrong. But that didn’t mean he was any less dangerous. Artemis had to shore up her crumbling defenses, and quickly. She tamped down her smile and narrowed her gaze. “By the way, how did you know thatIwasn’t married, Mr. Winters? When you first inquired after my name. That was a rather large assumption to make.”
“You’re not wearing a wedding ring.”
“Perhaps I pawned it so I could buy my horrid books.”
“So you’re ruthlessandclever.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“Well, I should hope not if you’re married.”
“And ifyouare married,Mr.Winters, I would hope that you wouldn’t try to flirt with a strange woman you had bumped into at a train station, then a bookstore, regardless of her marital status.”
He inclined his head. “Touché. I concede defeat. You are absolutely right. Married men shouldn’t flirt with strange women, single or wed. So, it’s a good thing I’m not married.”
Oh…He had a daughter, but he wasn’t married. As divorce was so rare, that probably meant… “I apologize if I’ve inadvertently raised a painful subject, sir.”