Perilous Passions by Regina Scott

Author:Regina Scott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: regency romance, first love, young adult romance, romantic mystery, fake engagement, bundle box set, romance clean and wholesome
Publisher: Regina Scott

Chapter Eleven

How easily she trusted him, even knowing his true calling. He’d watched her family leave earlier, so he knew they could not interfere with his plans. Still, she took pains to leave precise instructions with the butler to inform them that she’d gone out and with whom.

“Making sure they know where to search for you?” he teased as he led her down to his waiting carriage, a shiny black barouche with brass appointments.

She cast him a glance. “Trying to forestall a scold. Besides, they would worry if they came home and found me missing.”

How different from his life. He’d been accountable to a tutor before leaving for Eton, but after his mother had died when he was nine, he’d been pretty much on his own. Though of course his father dictated his overall actions. He didn’t see that as worry, precisely, more like ensuring the continuation of the Sinclair line.

He handed her into the carriage and told his driver where to go before joining her.

“What’s significant about Camden Place?” she asked.

Smart girl, but then he’d known that from the beginning. “My family’s town house is at number eight,” he replied, leaning back against the squabs as the carriage started forward. “My father would like to meet you.”

She stiffened. “Well, I wish you had confided that sooner! I’m hardly dressed for such an occasion.”

He glanced at the blue velvet evening cloak that all but obscured her figure. His mind helpfully conjured up the womanly curves, the creamy skin at her throat. “You look fine,” he assured her.

The passing light showed a puckered face that was no less adorable. “My outfit was perfectly acceptable for chasing after French spies,” she informed him. “If I’d known I was meeting your father, I’d have chosen a different gown, had my maid fix my hair properly, and composed a proper speech.”

“You aren’t introducing a bill to Parliament,” he said with a smile.

“No, only seeking to impress one of its leaders!”

She seemed sincerely concerned, her body tensing and leaning back as if to distance herself from the very idea.

“He hasn’t been considered a leader for years,” he told her. “Now he rarely even attends. It seems these days that he merely trades on his former glory. And remember, this isn’t a true betrothal. You needn’t impress him.”

She snorted. “Well, it would certainly seem odd if I didn’t try. The heroine must always impress the hero’s family. Have you never read a romantic novel, sir?”

Would she disdain him if he admitted he’d tried only two and found them not to his taste? “Life isn’t a romantic novel, Miss Courdebas.”

“Said the dark, brooding hero who practices espionage,” she muttered. Then she raised her voice. “Perhaps you should call me Ariadne if we are to convince people we are besotted. And I shall call you Hawksbury. Or do you prefer Hawk?”

He grimaced. “Now that sounds like a romantic hero, and I’m nothing of the sort. My father didn’t earn his courtesy title until I was twelve. I went by Sinclair until then.

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