Stroke of Genius by Marlowe Mia

Author:Marlowe, Mia [Marlowe, Mia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Published: 2013-02-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

She was flawless, his creation of creamy ivory. Too fine a thing for a mortal to crave. Too delectable for him not to.

Crispin paced the sidewalk outside the Almack’s assembly room. He’d upgraded his usual walking stick to an ebony-headed one inlaid with jade in deference to the more formal occasion. Its rosewood length was burnished to a sheen and hid a thin rapier within a secret hollow space.

Not that Crispin expected to need protection in this most respectable of neighborhoods.

Unless I insult Grace again.

He grimaced at his shadow on the pavers. What he’d said was unconscionable. Unforgivable. He’d all but called her a whore. Even now, he had no idea why he’d become so momentarily insane.

Perhaps there was madness in his lineage.

He had no way to know for sure.

But he did know there was no other way into Almack’s assembly rooms except up an interminable stairway. He weighed his need to see Grace as soon as her carriage arrived against his desire not to fight those long stairs before her pitying gaze.

Or maybe she’d laugh at him now instead of feeling sympathy. He rather thought he’d prefer her laughter. The last thing he needed was for her to see him as some pathetic, crippled artist.

Either way, damn me, if I don’t deserve her scorn.

He decided to go in and wait for her at the top of the stairwell. If she was going to cut him, it may as well be where there was plenty of space for him to fall.

As he hauled himself up the steps, he realized she’d do no such thing. He was, for all intents and purposes, her sponsor this night. His word in one of the patronesses’ ears was responsible for the voucher he held in his waistcoat pocket for her. He was about to make her fashionable. Her bold-colored gown would soon be all the rage. She’d never publicly disparage him.

She wouldn’t do it in private either, he admitted with a grunt. He could almost always rely upon others to be a better person than he was.

Grace qualified as a member of a much better species.

The steps were narrow, designed with much smaller feet than his in mind, and required his complete concentration. At least the railing was solid and he was able bear much of his weight on his well-developed left arm.

“I say, do you mind?” came a supercilious voice behind him. Crispin recognized the speaker as Grace’s cousin.

“Ah, Lord Wash . . . burn, I believe.” Crispin needed to be on his best behavior this night if he was going to make things up to Grace. Even if it meant being pleasant to a loathsome toad like her cousin the baron. It was really a pity, too. ‘Lord Washbucket’ was so deserving of his acerbic wit. “Good evening to you.”

Washburn mumbled something in return.

Crispin was half way to the top, but he stopped and pressed his spine to the railing so Washburn and his sister could mount the steps around him more easily.

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