Heiress in Red Silk (Duke's Heiress #2) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,56
he unwound himself, sat upright and leaned toward her. “As I said, it in no way alters my opinion of you. My conclusion was a logical one, owing to your person and manner, but one never knows, what with the peculiar ideas the world has on such things.”
“It is of absolutely no consequence to me how you feel about whatever erroneous conclusions you may have drawn from this extremely odd conversation.”
“Not so odd.” He looked her right in the eyes. “After all, a woman of some experience presents no conundrum, but an innocent—I wouldn’t begin to know what to do then.”
Now, on the terrace, when she repeated his word “privacy,” he looked back to the gardens, a slow smile forming on his lips. “We will meet with Monsieur Forestier soon. Hard decisions will have to be made then. Those conversations should not happen in public.”
“Of course not. And I have many things I want to do here. I want to see the better shops, and observe the ladies’ fashions. I don’t suppose anyone speaks English?”
“The French assume that anyone who matters will learn their language.”
“Which your sort do.”
He not only spoke French, he spoke it in a long, unbroken, rapid, and incomprehensible melody.
“I am going to be helpless here, aren’t I?” She folded her arms in front of her to warm herself a little. The sun was setting in the west, casting long shadows. Paris seemed colder to her than London. The breeze carried a bite when it flowed from the north.
“I will escort you wherever you need to go so you don’t get lost.”
She could hardly have him escort her when she sought out Charles. However, if she spent a day traversing the city first, she could probably learn enough to tell the hotel where she wanted to go, and have them find her a carriage.
“Why don’t you visit the Palais-Royal tomorrow?” he suggested. “There are fine shops there, and you will also get a good look at current fashions in the garden. As for now, join me for dinner. I’ll explain the food to you.”
She agreed and returned to her chambers. The food needed explanations?
* * *
Miss Jameson insisted they were traveling independently, but of course they really weren’t. Kevin saw to that.
As a gentleman, it was his duty to see her safely to Paris, after all. The best way to do that was to travel with her in the carriages and keep watch over her on the packet.
Now, considering her ignorance of the French language and habits, he was obligated to continue acting as her guardian.
He could have said something when he surmised that the hotel manager made inaccurate assumptions about their relationship. He could have made it clear that the two chambers need not be close to each other because Miss Jameson was merely a friend. It would have been possible to do that without saying a word.
But it suited him to allow the assumption to stand.
Dressed for dinner, he presented himself at her door. A maid opened it, a pretty, young one with dark curls and a very French nose. She stood aside so he could enter the sitting room. Rosamund waited there.
She looked ravishing in the lilac dinner dress that she had worn at Aunt Agnes’s. A little headdress with a lively plume sat atop her blond hair. A few little tendrils hung around her face.
He offered his arm. “I thought tonight we would dine here in the hotel, if that suits you.”
She nodded while she looked around the staircase and up to the ceiling as they strolled down. “Me thinks—I think this will not be like eating at a coaching inn.”
“Nor like eating at my aunt’s table. Although there are French cooks in London. My cousin Nicholas has one, for instance.”
“Is the food that different?”
“Some of it is. Much of it is very familiar.”
They were seated in the restaurant. Rosamund stared at the crystal and flowers and finally at the cutlery lined up at her place. She cocked her head and pointed to one eating implement. “What is that?”
“I’ll show you soon.”
It was not his goal to shock her, but he decided that introducing her to new things might be wise. So he ordered champagne, and they laughed when the effervescence affected her nose. He called for shrimp and she enjoyed them. He had the kitchen send out snails.
She eyed them, then him. “What are these?” She poked her fork at one.
“You eat them with that odd little implement that confounded you.”