Scandalous Regency Secrets Collection

But she did love the ring.

Not that it was hers, not really.

Although it could be.

But only because Cooper Townsend was a gentleman, and a man of his word. A hero, who insisted he was not a hero.

Not that she’d hold him to their supposed compromise and proposal. They would find the blackmailer. Coop would give him a good thrashing and suggest an ocean voyage, perhaps to India. She’d worry that another man might eliminate the blackmailer in a more permanent way, but not Coop. Still, the man would get the message! They would retrieve and then promptly burn Mari’s letters; the damning chapbook would never be published; and Coop’s secrets would remain safe and his head continue to ride secure on his neck, the Prince Regent or whomever never the wiser that some deep dark secret was nearly spilled all over London.

And then it would be over. Coop would go his way, and she would go hers.

Maybe they could remain friends...

Suddenly she wasn’t walking anymore, because Coop had halted, nearly pulling her to a stop when she continued on, not noticing.

“Whoa,” he teased. “Are you ready?”

She looked up at Coop, realizing she’d been concentrating her gaze on the flagway and the tips of her shoes each time she took a step, just as if fascinated by the sheer action of locomotion. How far had they walked? A block? Six? Were they even still on Bond Street?

“Uh, um, where are we?”

“I’m standing a short distance from Mrs. Yothers’s dress shop. I don’t know where you are, although I will say you’ve been the object of some curiosity from passersby, as you so neatly cut everyone dead while I was apologetically tipping to my hat to all and sundry.”

Dany looked to her left and right, feeling her cheeks flushing. “I was...woolgathering?”

“Circling the moon might be more to the point. Not that I’m complaining. I find I like a peaceful woman.”

“Then you’ll have to look elsewhere, my lord,” she shot back, still angry with herself, “for I’m feeling far from peaceful. It’s my own fault, I know that. Only Mari should be Mari. I should be myself. As myself, perhaps I would have realized the stone was too extraordinarily beautiful to be less than— Stop smiling. I’m serious about this. I’ve bankrupted you.”

“You’re forgetting Minerva’s discount.”

“Yes, your mother. But I’m afraid I don’t understand a Minerva discount.”

“Birdwell, and several others, realized that being able to say they’ve won the custom of the hero of Quatre Bras could do wonders for their business. If they didn’t realize it, Minerva pointed the fact out to them. And before you say anything else, yes, I was appalled when I learned what she’d done.” He smiled at her. “Admittedly no longer quite as appalled as I was before you set eyes on that emerald, as she wrangled a fifty percent discount from the man. Now, are you ready to step inside and be delighted to see your new friend Clarice? We’re already late, which means it might be Rigby who’s in danger of being bankrupted.”

“You still haven’t told me what this is all about, and why I’m meeting her.”

“I know. I want you to be surprised, and react genuinely. Don’t worry, Clarice knows what to do.”

“But it’s better that I don’t?”

“See that? I was certain you’d understand. Good girl. Shall we?”

Dany was close to grinding her teeth. “Do I have a choice?”

“You’ll always have a choice, Dany,” he said, suddenly and unexpectedly serious. “That’s a promise.”

“Oh. Oh, my,” she said, attempting to catch her breath. “I wasn’t expecting that.” Then she wrinkled up her nose, realizing what she’d said. “That is, I mean...” she rushed to say. “I mean, we’re talking about...about the— What are we talking about, Coop?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, tipping up her chin. “I just suddenly felt a need to say the words. And perhaps to bring my mind back to the matter at hand, as you’ve managed to distract me from our mutually pressing problems. How do you do that?”

Dany wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I don’t know. I don’t set out to do it. Is there anything special that, um, that distracts you?”

“You,” Coop said, a rather rueful half smile causing her to catch her breath. “I could enumerate at some other time, with much less of an audience, but for now? For now, Miss Daniella Foster, you. Just you, being you.”

“Oh.” Her voice was nearly inaudible. Her world seemed to be tipping on its axis, and she felt her body begin to move toward his, drawn to him by the intensity in his eyes. Nor did he seem unaffected, or even aware of where they were.

Wasn’t that...interesting.

“There you are! You’re late.”

Dany shook her head as both she and Coop turned to see Rigby coming toward them from the direction of the dress shop, his cheeks flushed, very nearly splotched.

“My pardon, friend,” Coop said. “How late are we?”

“Two bonnets and a reticule late, I’d say,” he told them, retrieving a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at his brow. “Miss Foster,” he said, belatedly acknowledging her with a slight bow. “That is, Dany. If you would be so kind as to join Clarice in the shop? And possibly talk her out of the reticule? It’s fairly drowning in pearls, you understand.”

“Surely not real pearls.”

“I don’t know,” the baronet told her. “She wants to bite one, to see for certain, but I’ve so far talked her into waiting for you, as I’ve told her you’re an expert on pearls. Please.”

It was good to laugh, and Dany wanted to give Rigby a kiss on the cheek for taking her mind away from all the many dangerous areas it had traveled to in the moments since Coop had turned so suddenly serious.

“I don’t want to be seen just yet. Therefore, having happily encountered Rigby here, you sent your maid to the coach to unburden herself of the bandboxes containing your purchases, while he offered to escort you to meet with your friend Clarice,” Coop told her, nodding his head in the direction of Mrs. Yothers’s establishment. “Are you ready? Time to go.”

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” she asked, not all that happily. Why on earth did she say he could take the reins into his hands? She’d have to correct that at some point, she supposed, although it probably didn’t matter, since they would soon part ways from their sham engagement. Did he already know how he was going to do that? “I could have made up my own fib, you know.”

“Next time,” Coop said. “Perhaps we can take turns.”

“Now you’re being facetious again. Not that I won’t hold you to that suggestion. After all, we may get along, but that doesn’t mean we, well, we get along, if you know what I mean.”

“Unfortunately, Dany, I believe I do. We’re playing at a sort of game, aren’t we? And it’s not always mutually enjoyable. But all games have an end.” He tipped his hat at her, turned and walked off down the flagway, away from the shop.

And now he’s frowning, and probably second-or even third-guessing this ridiculous arrangement, from the ring to the kiss...and beyond. Are you happy now, Dany? she asked herself, and decided that she wasn’t. She could only get back to the game.

She spied Clarice within moments of entering the shop with Rigby, and called out a cheery, “Yoo-hoo,” as she raised one hand and waved wildly, in the manner of her mother when seeing someone she knew (and embarrassing both her daughters in the process).

Clarice waved back and hastened to join them, before commanding Rigby to vacate the premises, as his presence wasn’t necessary.

Rigby made his escape without complaint, most probably to rejoin Coop and the two of them off on the hunt for cigars or some such thing.

Clarice grabbed Dany’s arm and pulled her toward a corner of the shop, even as Mrs. Yothers approached from behind the curtain covering the dressing room Mari and Dani had occupied only a day earlier.

A day? Why did it feel like whole weeks had passed?

“Come on, come on, I’ve a secret to share. That’s why I sent poor Jerry away,” Clarice declared in a less than secretive voice. “I’ve been all but dancing out of my britches, waiting for someone to tell. It’s just the best secret ever.”

Dany smiled. So this was it? She was to allow Clarice to tell her—and Mrs. Yothers—a secret? And then she was to appear summarily impressed by said secret, obviously, which was why Coop hadn’t told her the particulars, so that neither their meeting nor the secret-telling would seem contrived. Very well, she’d act surprised. But first she’d give Mrs. Yothers time to make her way to within earshot. At the moment, she was fussing with some scarves on one of the nearby tables, her back to them, just as if she didn’t know she had customers.