Page 33 of A Dangerous Scheme (Regency Spies & Secrets 4)

Miss Locke reached for her glass. “Then you shall have to take a few books from our library home for your sister.”

Guy looked at her in surprise. “Truly?”

“We have acquired duplicates of certain books over the years,” Miss Locke replied. “Besides, I want to ensure your sister has plenty to read while she is caring for your mother.”

“That is most kind of you,” he responded.

Miss Locke smiled at him. “It is but a small thing.”

“To you, perhaps.”

Gesturing towards his soup, Lady Frances remarked, “It would be best if we stop pestering you with questions so you can enjoy your soup.”

“I do not mind your questions, but this soup does look delicious.”

“Our cook is French,” Miss Locke shared. “Grandmother hired her right out from under our neighbor’s nose.”

Lady Frances didn’t appear the least bit embarrassed by Miss Locke’s remarks. “It is true,” she replied. “I enjoyed his food so much while visiting Mrs. Asburnham that I offered to hire Monsieur Barbet on the spot.”

Miss Locke smirked. “And Mrs. Asburnham wouldn’t dare to refuse my grandmother’s demands.”

“I did not demand anything,” Lady Frances declared. “I am old, and I enjoy eating the finest-tasting food.”

Guy reached for his spoon and took a sip of the turtle soup. “I was right. This soup is delicious,” he acknowledged.

Lady Frances smiled victoriously. “That pleases me immensely to hear.”

They had justadjourned to the drawing room when her grandmother suggested, “Why don’t you play something for us on the pianoforte?”

Daphne smiled. “I would be happy to.” She walked over to the pianoforte and sat down. “What would you wish to hear?”

“You choose, dear,” her grandmother replied as she sat down on the blue settee.

She was about to start playing when she saw Mr. Stewart approaching. He stopped next to her and said, “I would prefer it if you would play something that you don’t have memorized.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I find myself curious as to what you look like wearing spectacles.” He smiled, a dashing smile that almost disarmed her into doing his bidding—almost. But she was not foolish enough to fall for his charms.

“I’m sorry, but I do not think it is such a good idea.”

Mr. Stewart considered her for a moment before inquiring, “May I ask why you are embarrassed by a pair of spectacles?”

“They are unsightly.”

“I disagree,” he replied. “My mother wears spectacles whenever she reads, and I have never once thought they looked unsightly.”

“But I am much younger than your mother.”

“Are you?” he joked.

She laughed. “Perhaps it is you who need spectacles.”

Mr. Stewart put his hands up in surrender. “I give up,” he replied. “I shall stop pestering you about wearing your spectacles.”

“Thank you.”

“But I want you to know that no one has the right to make you feel inferior,” he said, giving her a pointed look.

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