Page 9 of The Scoundrel and the Debutante
Roan unwrapped it. It was bread.
“I’ve cheese, too.”
“No, I—”
“I must insist, Mr. Matheson! My youngest sister put it in my bag.” She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight. “She wanted me to be properly provisioned. She has high hopes that we will be set upon by highwaymen and forced to live in the woods.”
“She hashopeof that?”
“She has a keen sense of drama. Please, help yourself. There is more.”
“I’m grateful,” he said, and went down on one haunch and tore off a chunk of the bread. He ate it much more savagely than he intended as Miss Cabot climbed back onto the fence railing. He helped himself to the cheese, too, surprised by how ravenous he suddenly realized he was.
“Yoo-hoo!”
The two sisters wiggled their fingers at Miss Cabot, even though they sat only a few feet away. “We’ve solved the mystery!” one of them trilled loudly.
“We have indeed! It wasquitea puzzle—”
“Quite,” said the more robust of the two.
“What mystery?” Miss Cabot asked.
“Well,you,my dear. But we have deduced it. You are Lady Altringham!” she said proudly.
“Oh dear me, no,” Miss Cabot said laughingly. “She’s twenty years my senior.”
“Oh,” said the woman, clearly disappointed once more.
“But I am acquainted with her,” Miss Cabot said. “Her daughter and I were presented together.”
“Ooh,”said the smaller one, her eyes lighting with delight.
“Presented?” Roan said uncertainly.
“To theking,sir!” one of the women said crossly, as if he should have known it.
Roan looked up at Miss Cabot curiously. “Why? Did you do something of note?”
Miss Cabot burst into a delightful laughter. “Not at all! It was all I could manage to curtsy properly.”
“I should like to know from whereyouhail, sir, for you seemquiteignorant,” said one of the women.
“Doesn’t he, though?” agreed the other. “Everyone knows that presentation in court is the rite of passage for a young lady of pedigree,” said the other in a bit of a huff.
Roan didn’t understand. “For what purpose?”
“The purpose!” the woman scoffed, clearly annoyed. “Wouldn’t you like to be presented to the king?”
Roan had to think about that. If it prolonged his time in England, he would say no.
“Where are you from?” the woman demanded.
“America,” Roan said. “New York, to be precise.”
“And why have you come all this way?”
He didn’t think it was any business of hers, but he said, “To collect my sister who has been visiting your fair country for several months. Does that meet with your approval?”
