Page 7 of The Lady is Trouble

Aftershe turned to watch the scenery pass as if pitch-black English countryside was the most exciting thing imaginable.

Chapter 3

We look before and after, and pine for what is not.

~Percy Bysshe Shelley

The next morningfound Piper awake before dawn, hungry, uneasy, and humiliated over the debacle the prior evening. Tipping aside the faded floral drape, she peered through the lone window in what was a modest but very quaint room, one Julian had, without comment or expression, escorted her to after they’d arrived. If she pressed her brow to the glass and looked hard to the left, she could just make out the back of Dalton’s brougham parked near the horse stable.

She released a breath.They had not left her.

Since there was no more sleep to be had, and she did not want to vex Julian further by delaying their journey, she called for the maid, Adelia, who arrived with a neat bundle of clothing acquired from the owner’s daughter. Seeing as Piper was ‘hardly bigger than a grasshopper,’ she said no one else’s garments would do.

Suitably presented, Piper headed downstairs and, upon finding an empty common room, popped her head in the kitchen and bargained for a slice of cheese and bread, which she took with her into the gardens behind the inn. From corset to stockings, Adelia had given her a wonderful oral tour of the property. There was even a secret tunnel leading to the village priory, but Piper could imagine Julian’s reaction if she asked to see it.

Kicking dirt off her slippers, Piper reentered the inn to find Julian seated in the dining room, gazing into his teacup as if he would find answers there. A folded newspaper lay unopened by his side. Bathed in the sunlit shimmer, he looked both younger than his bearing and older than she recalled. Time had changed him. Still heartbreakingly handsome, there was a sharpness to his visage that had not been there before, a cool detachment she felt sure he used to measure, rebuff, renounce. As she stared, his aura sparked like a phosphorous match strike, an effect she wasn’t sure how to interpret. Tangling her fingers in her borrowed skirt, she shifted her attention to the horrendous painting of Queen Victoria above his shoulder and let his aura fade to a low hum. She needed a steady equilibrium if she was going to deal with Julian and make it out alive.

To pull him from his contemplation, she gently bumped the table when she reached him. Julian swallowed hard, braced his hands on the scarred wood, and came to his feet. Eyes the color of tarnished silver met hers. His regard was restrained but welcoming enough. At least he no longer seemed spoiled for a fight.

“May I sit?” She indicated the empty chair. Anything to lessen her feeling like a rabbit to his hawk, partly due to their disparity in height. With his nod of assent, she shook her skirt and settled in.

Julian sat, unfoldedThe Times,and ironed it flat with his hand. “The clothing is suitable? I, myself, leave a case here for the unplanned outing.”

Of course, he looked suitably magnificent in superbly tailored black. She smoothed her hand over her bodice, each borrowed button a jolt on the way down. “Yes, very.”

He gazed at the newspaper, but she had a feeling he wasn’t reading it. “I don’t suppose we’re so fortunate as to have your maid, Ebba, waiting in the”—he glanced at her over the top of the broadsheet—“hotel you almost burned down? Finn couldn’t locate her last night, but I can send for her. One possible reprieve from the Madame DuPre madness should we need her assistance in getting you out of this mess.”

Hmm…Julian did throw a dart near the bullseye. “Ebba left Gloucestershire after Aunt Hortense joined the great beyond.”

He put the newspaper aside and took a thoughtful sip of tea. “Footman?”

“Groom. Daniel. Very young, very handsome.” Piper traced a jagged nick in the table. “I tried to talk her out of running off with him.”

He snorted, more ruffian than viscount, a hint of the boy she’d loved sending a tremor through her. “I’m not even going to imaginethatconversation.”

She opened her mouth to tell him she was fully capable of giving sound advice; her problem was following it. Except, blast the man, he reached inside his coat and extracted a pair of spectacles. Executing a neat loop behind each ear, he blinked and settled back with a rapt perusal of his newspaper. When she didn’t comment, he glanced up. Stilled. His hand rose to touch the bridge of his nose. Then he shrugged and dropped his arm. His only comment, “Headaches.”

Piper’s toes curled inside her slippers. The lenses enlarged his eyes, emphasizing the amber flecks swimming in silver. As if something so lovely needed amplification.

Breaking the silence, the serving girl halted at their table to take their breakfast request. Soon, a cup of coffee, dark and pungent, sat before Piper. She stirred in cream and risked a glance at Julian, who was staring sullenly at her.

“May I ask why you’re fixing me with such a vexed expression?” She lifted the cup to her mouth and practically purred as the warm liquid hit her tongue. “Didn’t you flay me to within an inch of my life last night?”

Sitting back, he drew his hand to his lips, silent. Raised one finger. “Trip to London, alone, no chaperone.” Two fingers. “Masquerading as a medium.” Three. “Going—”

“Stop.” She set her cup on the saucer with a clatter. “I didnottravel alone. Not exactly. There was a third cousin of a footman who—”

“Good Lord,” he interrupted, dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Well, if you’d like to know what I did and why…” She let her words drift, doing a quick mental calculation. Honesty versus more chicanery. The new, mature Piper Scott took the courageous,truthfulroute. Even if mature Piper had to lock her knees together under the table when facing the intimidating man sitting across from her. Clicking her nail against her cup until Julian’s impatient glance made her seize the motion, she finally admitted, “Rest assured, I operated completely in darkness, veiled at all times. The typical attendee: half-foxed, wealthy, well-placed in society. Not able to give more than a scant description of me, if one at all. I was never in danger, Julian. No one knew who Iwas. Except you, when you heard the name Madame DuPre. Which is, honestly, exactly as I’d planned.”No more lonely Piper, she could have added but didn’t dare.

“Brilliant,” he muttered, his voice still strained from the fire. He blinked at the ceiling, the rims of his spectacles winking in the sunlight. What in heaven’s name was he looking at?

“I’m sorry for this misadventure, truly.” She twisted her cup this way and that, then forced her hands to her lap. Piper Scott did not fidget. “But this time, Jules, I have, well, what you like. Aplan.”

His gaze slipped to a spot just over her shoulder. Finally, with a sigh and an adjustment of his spectacles, he looked her dead in the eye. His forceful regard seared her to the tips of her toes and back, kicking her poise down by at least two notches. “I’m not sure my heart can take it but enlighten me.”

Flustered, she fought to gather her words. She wasn’t sure why she was so tongue-tied when she and Julian hadalwayssparked like two pokers struck against each other. She brought her bottom lip between her teeth, mentally composing her rationale. A fleeting expression crossed Julian’s face, causing him to shift in his chair and his aura to widen about him.