Page 61 of How to Fall for a Scoundrel
“A portrait might show a family likeness, but it would have been painted before he turned fifteen, and there’s rarely enough detail in them to make a strong enough case,” Tess said. “It could show a younger brother, or anillegitimate child. Unless Harry has some obviously distinguishing mark, like a visible scar, or a birthmark?”
Ellie tapped her cheek. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he does have the most extraordinary eyes. One looks blue, while the other looks green-brown. I doubt a painter would have captured that useful detail, though.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Tess admitted. “I’ve been too busy admiring his tailoring.”
“We haven’tallbeen gazing into his eyes like a lovesick puppy, like you have, Ellie,” Daisy teased.
“I don’t look at him like that!”
Daisy made a comical face. “Oh no? Perhaps it’s me that needs to wear spectacles, then. Because I’m sure you go all misty-eyed whenever you look at him.”
“Is it really that obvious?” Ellie was appalled.
“That you’re in love with him?” Tess grinned. “I’m afraid so. To us, at least. But we’ve known you for years, so we know you the best of anyone.”
Ellie dropped her forehead to her desk and groaned. “It’s a disaster. How did this happen? Last week I disapproved of everything about him, but yesterday I thought my heart would stop beating if he was dead.”
“At least you fell in love with him before you knew there was a chance that he’s an earl.” Daisy shrugged. “Nobody could accuse you of being after his title.”
“I haven’t told him.” Ellie raised her head. “And don’t you dare say anything about it to him either. He isn’t in love with me, and even if he was, what good could come of it? If we prove he’s just a charlatan trying to sneak into the role of earl, then he’s going to leave London and never come back.
“And if wedoprove he’s the earl, he’ll be the toast of the town. The prodigal son, miraculously restored to his rightful place. The single women will be all over himlike wasps on a honey sandwich. He’ll have his pick of brides. If he chooses to marry, he can do much better than me, who has neither a fortune nor a title. Whatever happens, there’s no future for the two of us.”
Tess sighed. “He certainly plays his cards close to his chest, but perhaps that’s just habit. He’s so used to concealing his true intentions it’s probably become second nature.”
“He definitely desires you,” Daisy added. “He never takes his eyes from you whenever you’re together. And he likes you too. He laughs at your jokes, and appreciates your talents.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean helovesme, does it?”
“Perhaps he’s been too distracted by his quest to prove his name to give the matter real consideration. Men, in general, aren’t terribly good at saying what they feel. They just assume youknow, or they use strange, often incomprehensible gestures to show their regard.”
“The way cats show their love by bringing you dead mice.” Daisy grinned.
“What a lovely image.” Ellie grimaced. “God, why can’t our hearts be as sensible as our brains?”
Daisy laughed. “It keeps things interesting, I suppose. Just think of all the drama we’d have missed out on if people didn’t do stupid things for love. There’d be no opera, no Shakespeare. No Lancelot and Guinevere, no Antony and Cleopatra. All those poets like Byron and Shelley would have had to get proper jobs, instead of mooning about, composing sonnets to someone’s eyelashes.”
“It would certainly cut the number of cases at the Old Bailey.” Ellie smiled, rallying. “Half of those are crimes of passion. Or committed because of love.”
Tess chuckled. “And the gossip sheets would have nothing to write about, except fashions and the weather.”
Daisy tossed her dagger into the air, then snatched it back with impressive dexterity. She’d taken to throwing it across the room at a playing card she’d affixed to the door, and Ellie winced every time the blade skewered the poor queen of hearts. It was hard not to remember the night she’d learned to cheat with Harry.
“Well, I think you’re worrying over nothing,” Daisy said. “As strange as it seems to say I trust a man as unashamedly conniving as Harry, Idotrust that he’s telling the truth about his family.”
Ellie sighed. “We’ll see.”
“Write to him and tell him we’ll take the case.”
“We should charge him double,” Ellie muttered. “For emotional aggravation.”
“Actually, I was going to suggest that he pay us with his time and skills,” Tess said.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you remember last year, when Edmond Rundell asked us to listen out for information about a jewel that had been stolen from his workshop?”
“An aquamarine.” Ellie nodded.