A Wedding by Dawn by Alison DeLaine

Author:Alison DeLaine
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Harlequin HQN
Published: 2014-04-27T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“IF I WANTED to marry someone,” India said to Millie the next afternoon as they strolled along the shops on the Pont Notre-Dame, “that is, if I wanted to force myself upon someone in marriage, I would bide my time and assert myself when that person least expected it. Wouldn’t you?”

“I can’t honestly say.”

“Well, wouldn’t you want the element of surprise on your side? And what better way to do that than to convince the person that you did not want to marry them when in fact you did?”

Millie stopped and looked at her. “India...”

India stopped, too. Saw Millie’s tired eyes and drawn mouth, and felt terrible. “Oh, Millie.” She sighed. “I’ve been thinking of nothing but myself and my own fears, when you are just as affected by all this as I am. Please forgive me. I haven’t forgotten that we need a solution.”

There was a moment, and then, “What if Nicholas Warre is the solution?”

The question caught India behind the ribs. “You can’t be serious.”

Millie gave her a you-can’t-fool-me look. “I think you have a fancy for him and you won’t admit it.”

“Very well. I admit it.”

“I knew it.”

“But it doesn’t change anything.”

“How can it not change anything? It’s a good deal more than most women ever—”

“Millie, look there.” Speak of the devil. “Do you see him? What a convenient coincidence.” Nicholas Warre, here on the Pont, at exactly the same time she and Millie had decided to visit. She wondered if perhaps Auntie Phil was to blame, having stayed behind at the last minute to deal with a row between her butler and housekeeper.

Millie looked. “Perhaps it is a coincidence.”

“You give him too much credit.” India took Millie’s arm. “We shall keep walking and pretend we don’t see him. Let’s go back this way,” which would take them by several shops the girls had seen earlier on their walk, all of which were attended by flirtatious young artists.

If Nicholas Warre was here to keep an eye on her, she would give him an eyeful indeed.

They meandered back down the Pont, where rows of shops stretched out, each framed by a great stone archway and filled with a dazzling variety of artwork and other wares. She paused to study a collection of Greek replicas.

Three shops behind, Nicholas Warre paused to inspect a painting.

They moved to a shop with several large bronzes on display.

He shifted to study a collection of portraits.

“He’s following us, Millie.”

“Where else do you expect him to go?”

“Quickly, in here—”

“No, not here.” Millie yanked her away from the shop full of nude portraits they’d bypassed earlier.

“Then over here.” India hurried back to the shop filled with marble statuettes—only some of them nude—where a young sculptor had shown a particular interest in her. She lingered in the archway, making sure Nicholas saw her, then headed toward a table of small sculptures.

It wasn’t long before Nicholas found his way to the shop’s entrance.

She admired a miniature marble of Venus and glanced over her shoulder. Oh, yes. He was well within listening distance.

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