The Masked Heart - By Karla Darcy Page 0,27

the quaver in her throaty voice would be mistaken for age.

"Only distantly, ma'am," the younger man answered.

"A flighty bunch at best. Their pockets have been to let since well before you were born, young man." She hoped neither of the men would notice Fleur who had the slack-jawed look of a hooked fish. This was the first time that the girl had been privy to Blaine's impersonation and it was clear she was astonished. Under cover of her lap robe, she nudged the girl who snapped her mouth shut, wincing as if she had bitten her tongue. Blaine returned her concentration to the young man. "Can't abide those who play deep and fritter away their inheritances. And you, are you living on your expectations?"

"No, ma'am," Robbie declared immediately. "Fairhaven is a very prosperous estate. It provides a very comfortable living."

"Humph," was Blaine's answer as she turned as if to take the measure of Drew Farrington. Her hand shook slightly but she surveyed him from artfully curled head to shining booted feet. She almost sighed at the end of her scrutiny. He was truly a magnificent figure; his tall, lean body beneath his buckskins had the taut muscularity of an athlete. Her gaze returned to his face and she blinked at the sardonically raised eyebrow above his amused green gaze.

"Lady Yates. Delighted to see you in such fine twig," he drawled, bending his body in a slight obeisance.

"I can see you ain't sickly," Blaine snapped, then noticing her sister's agitation, she turned to the girl. "Stop fluttering, Fleur. Ring for tea."

With an expression of only mild curiosity, Drew took a seat and looked around the drawing room. It was well appointed despite the fact that it was in sad need of refurbishing. The furnishings themselves bespoke of good taste and genteel background; each piece obviously well chosen to suit the room. It was not at all what he had been expecting.

In fact nothing was quite as it had suspected. He had assumed Fleur Meriweather was a scheming jade of poor, uneducated parentage.

Impoverished the girl might be but it was apparent that her antecedents were impeccable. The girl herself, barely a child out of the schoolroom, was a far cry from the cold, calculating chit he had been prepared to write off as an adventuress. Fleur was an innocently wide-eyed child who was trying out her fledgling wings by flirting with him beneath outrageously long eyelashes as she poured tea.

Two things Drew noted immediately. Robbie was truly in love with the golden blond child and Fleur was not in love with Robbie.

Drew's green eyes glittered as he watched his brother. Although Robbie was busy speaking to Lady Yates, his eyes rarely strayed from Fleur for any length of time. His eyes shone with adoration and his color rose and receded at every glance from the object of his affections. On the other hand, Fleur looked as Robbie with the same enthusiasm one might bestow on a younger brother. Drew suspected that she thought of him as a friend but as yet did not consider him in the role of a suitor, let alone a lover. It would be rough times ahead for Robbie before he could hope to win the hand of this pretty child.

"Will you be staying long with Robbie?" Fleur asked, nervous at the steady gaze trained on her.

"I try to keep my country visits to only brief forays, Miss Meriweather."

"But surely you enjoy riding in the woods. There is much to be admired in the beauty of nature," Fleur said.

For a moment Drew wondered if the girl were quite as ingenuous as she appeared but one look at the guileless violet eyes disabused him of such a base notion. "I do find everything in Wiltshire of singular beauty. But that is not solely reserved for the scenery," he answered.

At his words, Fleur blushed, the color rising in an intriguing wave of pink and she dropped her eyes to the hands in her lap feeling unequal to the sophisticated banter of the man.

Blaine, although she was having a pleasant chat with Robbie, was aware of every movement of Drew. She chided herself for staring at him but found her eyes constantly drawn to his aristocratic features. She was angry at Fleur for making a cake of herself by her attempts to flirt with the man. She had seen the amusement in Drew's eyes at her sister's behavior but she must admit he was being gentle with the girl. Despite his