Improper Acquaintances: A clean and sweet Regency Romance by Sheila Walsh

Author:Sheila Walsh [Walsh, Sheila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: regency romance, Regency Historical Romance, Historical Romance, Regency Fiction, Georgian Romance, clean and wholesome, clean regency romance
Publisher: Wyndham Books (Regency Romance)
Published: 2019-04-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Charis was delighted to see how well Tristram was acquitting himself in Sir Thomas’s eyes. He had formed an immediate friendship with the diplomat’s junior secretary ‒ a young man not unlike Tristram, and with a similar taste for speed. The young secretary had recently acquired a spanking new racing curricle, together with a pair of sleek thoroughbreds mettlesome enough to meet even Tristram’s exacting standards, and every moment not claimed by Sir Thomas was devoted to trying their paces.

‘Adam can drive to a feather!’ Tristram was ungrudging in his praise. ‘Hands as gentle as a babe! Knows his way around Paris, too!’

This somewhat oblique observation confirmed Charis in her suspicion that her brother and his new friend were exploring other, quite different, avenues of pleasure, and while it might be no bad thing if it took his mind off Celestine a little …

‘I’m not sure whether Sir Thomas is aware of how late Tris is staying out,’ she confessed her troubled thoughts aloud to Dan. ‘Sometimes well into the morning hours. Thank God, he’s not yet taken to singing bawdy songs when he comes home!’

‘I think,’ said Dan drily, his eyes crinkling with laughter, ‘that Sir Thomas knows exactly what goes on in his own house. He also, no doubt, remembers from past experience what it’s like to be a young man let loose in Paris.’

‘And if he didn’t, I dare say you could enlighten him? You may take me for a great looby Daniel Hammond …’

He protested that he did nothing of the kind.

‘But,’ she swept on, ‘I cut my eye teeth a long time ago, let me tell you!’ Her nose wrinkled in mock displeasure. ‘All those disreputable cafés, full of painted hussies, who, to quote Emily, “are no better than they should be” ‒ flaunting their ankles, and goodness know what else! You wouldn’t know about those, I suppose?’

They were alone in Sir Thomas’s petit salon, and Dan made the most of his opportunity by nibbling her ear as he besought her in his most persuasive tones to believe that all pursuits of that nature were a thing of the past.

‘So I should hope!’ she retorted, fighting a losing battle with her aroused senses. ‘If that is how gentlemen must seek their amusement, then I’m very glad that I am not a man!’

He laughed aloud in his delight, and caught her to him. ‘So am I, my dear idiotish love! Very, very glad.’ His sleepy eyes roved her face. ‘But take care that your impetuously hurled accusations don’t rebound upon you, for I suspect that you are not above enjoying a little gratuitous flirtation yourself. Don’t imagine for one moment that I’ve forgotten Mallon.’ It was her turn now to make vain protestations. He concluded piously, ‘I may show a brave face, but I live in almost hourly dread that you will cast me aside in favour of one of those charming high-born gentlemen that Sir Thomas keeps putting in your way. I’ve seen them,

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