Chapter Ten #2
Those lapis lazuli eyes met mine, and I sucked in an inaudible gasp when they stared at me with an electric intensity I hadn’t felt before.
And I wasn’t imagining things—the heat of them seared into my skin as they took in the long dark hair that tumbled in inky skeins over my shoulders and nearly to my waist, the excellent cut of the ruffled pale-green-and-cream dress, from its puffed sleeves all the way down to the tips of my polished walking boots, and then back up again to my pristine white gloves, beaded reticule, bodice, and face.
They settled on my eyes and lips, studying my features with a familiar scrutiny that made flames ignite beneath my skin. Surely, it wasn’t polite to stare so long, but I was also willing to wager that what had felt like hours had been merely seconds.
Would he recognize me?
“Lady Rosalin, I presume?” he said softly so that the owners of the shop did not hear. We were skipping past formalities for the sake of time, especially since we required everyone else to think we had already been introduced by Ansel.
Since we were both unwed, Anna remained demurely a few feet away as chaperone, which did not put us in indecent territory.
I nearly snorted—I’d been with said gentleman behind closed doors alone.
Not that he or anyone here knew that. I’m certain that if Ansel had thought twice about what such a deception entailed, he would have said an emphatic no.
Thank goodness boys were not used to thinking about all the rules that unmarried girls my age faced.
“Mr. St. Clair,” I said equally softly. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you. My cousin has spoken quite highly of you.”
“Has he?” he asked with a slight raise of his brows. He looked so incredulous that I wanted to laugh.
“Did you expect him to say something untoward?” I asked. “Ansel can be hard to read at times, and often comes across as arrogant, but when he speaks well of a person, it is usually genuine. What did he tell you about me?”
“That you’re very intelligent,” he replied. “He did not, however, say that you would be…so comely as well.”
With that one sentence, every bone in my body melted. “You flatter me, sir. My cousin and I look tremendously alike.”
“He is annoyingly handsome,” Tarik agreed as he bent over my hand and lifted my gloved knuckles to his mouth.
My eyes widened. Where had he learned that?
Not that I would have seen Tarik St. Clair in any social setting where he would be greeting a lady of my station.
Everyone at Trinity was male. I caught my breath as the heat of his lips seared through the soft fabric, and I pinned my lips together so no sound could escape.
He glanced up, those eyes crashing into mine again, mischief in them.
“Though I dare say, you’re a much lovelier sight than he is. ”
My cheeks flamed as he stood at his full height, a few inches above me. I kept my voice low. “Thank you, but you don’t have to oversell it. I’ve already agreed to help the two of you with your nefarious plans.”
His expression grew serious. “Are you certain, my lady? I do not wish to cause you any unnecessary strife. Your cousin was simply trying to help me gain a foothold—”
I lifted a palm between us. “I’m aware of why we are here. We can discuss when there aren’t so many ears listening, if that suits you. For now, we have a long and tiring afternoon ahead of us.” I pursed my lips and nodded toward the tailor and his wife. “For you, rather.”
“Thank you for doing this, truly,” he said. “May I interest you in a stroll to the park after I am finished? I would welcome the chance to get to know you better. Your cousin has told me of your interest in astronomy.”
I glanced up at him with a smile. “If you can manage to walk properly at that point, Mr. St. Clair, I would be delighted to accompany you.”
His extraordinary eyes bulged comically, but I only laughed.
Several hours later, most of which I spent reading, the Marchands had declared they were finished with measurements. Biting back my giggles at Tarik’s exaggerated movements, I watched as he rolled his shoulders and pretended to check his arms for injury.
“I feel like a human pincushion,” he grumbled as we stretched our legs, walking through the neighboring Hyde Park. The ever-vigilant Anna followed us at a discreet distance.
Parasol in hand, I peered up at him, once more struck by the change in him.
He wore a brand-new suit that Monsieur Marchand had on hand for a gentleman who had supposedly lost his entire fortune in a hand of cards at a gaming hell on the west side of London and was unable to pay his accounts.
The tailor had deftly and expertly altered the suit to fit Tarik to perfection. He looked quite handsome and dapper.
It was truly shocking what a new set of elegant clothing did for a man, but considering I had never seen my tutor out of his academic gown or in any fancy clothes, it was no wonder that I was in a state of enchantment.
With his height and lean figure coupled with his dark, wavy hair; rich brown complexion; and flashing eyes, he looked exactly like the wealthy member of the gentry we were portraying him to be.
The ladies would be swooning when he entered ballrooms, of that I had no doubt, and the younger set of gentlemen would be clamoring to know who he was and how to align themselves with him.
Half the battle was confidence, and Tarik St. Clair had that in spades.
I had no idea how a man born of humble origins could have such innate self-assurance, but he had never struck me as someone who was lacking in conviction.
It was still early, before most of the fashionable people came out to promenade on the paths through the park, so it wasn’t too crowded just yet.
Not that I minded. Since part of the mission was to have Tarik be seen by influential people, it would be an easy start.
At least before the Marquess of Ridley’s ball next week, where he would make his grand, official, splashy entrance into high society.
My companion made another noise of discomfort that dragged me out of my thoughts. He tugged at the silky folds of his cravat and ran his gloved fingers over the frock coat he wore. His little groans and his constant adjustments made me want to giggle.
“The fitting could not have been that bad, sir,” I said, keeping my mirth to myself.
“The Marchands are professionals who have done this hundreds of times already this season. Trust me, anywhere else would have taken weeks or months. There’s a reason they are called the best. As it is, they will have coats, waistcoats, breeches, trousers, shirts, with all the accoutrements, and arrange for shoes, hats, and accessories delivered to you within the week. ”
“Truly, I am grateful, but if I ever see another bolt of fabric, I might revolt. Does a man actually need a dozen waistcoats?”
“If he wants to be remembered, yes,” I said with a surreptitious sidelong glance at the embroidered cobalt-blue waistcoat he wore, which made his eyes blaze.
He snorted. “Looks are fleeting. I’d much rather be remembered for my character and my mind.”
I couldn’t help it anymore—I laughed. “Then you would be better off courting someone other than the aristocracy. Most of them are a bunch of strutting peacocks. Sure, there are a select few who understand that the measure of a man or woman goes far beyond their appearance, but for the majority, first impressions can seal a newcomer’s reception. ”
“I suppose. Still, that doesn’t account for why a man must be poked and prodded for hours on end, simply to impress a few dandies.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ladies’ dress-fitting sessions take days; yours took only a few hours. Imagine how women must feel to achieve the standard of perfection we are held to.”
“I cannot conceive that it takes long for you,” he said.
“To achieve perfection, I mean.” It took a moment before I realized that he was complimenting me again.
Faltering, I sucked in a breath at the warmth in his eyes.
Gracious, was he flirting with me? For a second, I’d forgotten that we weren’t in Cambridge, and I wasn’t garbed in my usual disguise.
No, I was in a dress, and I was a lady…and someone I truly esteemed was reciprocating my interest. I’d fantasized about such a scenario for so long that I almost did not know how to react or respond.
I blushed daintily, and unlike the times at Trinity when I’d ducked to hide my pinkened cheeks, I let him see them. “You’re very kind, Mr. St. Clair.”
“Tarik, please, and I’m only being honest.”
“I could not address you by your given name, sir. It would not be proper.”
I could feel his smile, and it took everything in me not to stop and stare so I could memorize every inch of it. “Not even when we are alone like this?” he asked softly.
“We’re not alone, Mr. St. Clair. We’re surrounded by a few other people strolling in the park on this fine afternoon who are pretending not to notice us while cataloguing every step we take for dissection later. Not to mention, my lady’s maid, Anna, is right behind us.”
He glanced over his shoulder to where Anna was trailing us. “She’s very serious about her job.”
“Most chaperones have to be, lest a young woman’s virtue be snatched out from right under her nose and her reputation be forever tarnished.”
“In broad daylight?” he asked with some incredulity.
“You would be surprised at what some unscrupulous rogues might attempt to do to compromise a young heiress.” I pointed at a small copse of trees.
“Last year, Lady Simone, the daughter of an earl, was escorted into that very glade by a fortune hunter who hoped to get her into a compromising position. He failed, thanks to her very vigilant chaperone. A few years ago, another young lady snuck off to Vauxhall with her beau, and they were forced to marry when discovered. The scandal was interminable.”
His expression was thoughtful. “I admit, I’ve never thought about the rules of your station and how they applied to the safety of young women until your cousin Lord Ansel and I discussed it.
He was especially cross about the fact that women are not permitted to attend university and intimated that you would thrive there, given the chance.
But I supposed I always assumed the rules were too rigid and prevented girls from having the same freedom or opportunities as boys. ”
“They are, and they do,” I said. “But it’s the violence and ill will of some men that make them necessary, especially when a girl is out and about on her own.
Society needs to change and hold the men accountable.
As a matter of fact, one of my dearest friends had a boy lie about her past, and her entire reputation was ruined.
Everyone believed that something untoward had happened between them and my friend was sent away to a girls’ seminary instead of coming out to high society as the daughter of an earl.
Just like that, her life was finished. All because of one boy. ”
“That is utterly appalling,” he said, horrified.
Pursing my lips, I nodded. “It was, but everything turned out all right in the end. It’s a long story, but she returned to London to reclaim her reputation and take back her rightful place in the ton.
” I smiled at him. “You’ll meet her, I hope.
Her name is Lady Ela, and she’s married to a very influential young man in the ton, the Marquess of Ridley.
Win their support, and you’ll be guaranteed success. ”
“It’s that easy, is it?” he asked.
“No, Mr. St. Clair. Nothing is ever easy, but as a very smart man said, ‘more is in vain when less will serve.’ ”
He stopped so suddenly that I’d walked a few steps more before realizing he was no longer at my side. I turned and nearly stumbled over my feet seeing the wide smile on his face. “You quoted Newton.”
I shot him a teasing grin of my own and canted my chin. “Surprised, Mr. St. Clair?”
“I should not be, considering everything your cousin has shared,” he said, shaking his head in wonder. “But is it too soon to admit that I might be smitten?”
My cheeks flamed at the admission, my heart thumping in my chest. “You do not even know me, sir.”
“True, but it’s strange how much I feel like I do,” he said.
“Your cousin…you’re very similar, but so different.
I can’t explain it without sounding foolish.
Even this conversation feels outlandishly familiar and comfortable as if we’ve already spoken at great length, though I can’t imagine how.
” He raked a hand through his hair, the loose waves falling every which way.
“In truth, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, and I know that’s an extraordinarily peculiar thing to say to someone I’ve just met. Forgive me, if I am overstepping.”
“You’re not,” I whispered, staring at him. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“You do?”
The desire to confess the whole farce sat heavy on my tongue, but it would ruin everything.
I wanted St. Clair to have a real chance to fulfill his dream.
If there was anything I could do to make a difference with the limited power I had, I needed to do it.
I shrugged easily. “Perhaps we knew each other in another lifetime or somewhere else in the cosmos. The universe is infinite, after all.”
“No,” he murmured. “That’s not possible.”
“Why not?” I asked, my heart stopping.
His eyes were filled with wonder. “Because there’s no other universe or lifetime in which I could ever forget meeting someone like you.”