"Do you know what you need? You need someone to remind you that you aren't the authority on what other people should do… you need someone who isn't impressed by your conceit-ridden, high-handed attitude… and you need someone to take you down a step or two whenever you storm around like a… like a second-rate Napoleon!" she finished triumphantly.
Their eyes locked together, and they were furious not only with each other but also with themselves for wanting each other so desperately. Questions filled their minds, questions that they would never ask each other.
They wondered.
They still wanted.
"Mira?" came Rosalie's anxious voice from the phaeton, and Mira tore her gaze away, walking back quickly.
"We couldn't find it," she said, and the other woman shivered slightly.
"I'm glad. I never dreamed you were carrying around something like that in your reticule. Promise me you won't again."
"I promise."
"Would you like me to take you to wherever you're staying, Lady Berkeley?" Alec asked, helping Rosalie into the carriage. "I could tie my horse to the back of the high-flier—"
"Thank you, but I think I can manage. We're staying the night at a terrace in Red Lion Square. I can certainly drive that short distance without mishap."
"Slower this time," Alec suggested, and Rosalie smiled reluctantly at him.
Mira took Alec's outstretched hand and climbed into the phaeton, letting go of him as soon as she was settled. Her fingers tingled from the touch of his.
"One more thing," Mira said, her eyes darting to his inscrutable face. "What about the man who… what is going to happen to him?"
"Lord Falkner," Rosalie inquired earnestly, "should we turn him over to one of those felons associations for prosecution?"
"If you wish," Alec replied, his expression blank, his tone polite. "Which one would you prefer? The Society for the Suppression of Mendicity, or the Society for the Reformation of Manners?" Only Mira was aware of the utter mockery behind his question, and she longed to tell him what he could do with his suggestions.
"What would happen if we did turn him over to either of them?" Rosalie asked.
"He'll probably end up dangling from the end of a rope."
"Could we let him go?" Rosalie entreated. "I don't think I could bear having his death on my conscience."
"Of course," Alec replied, handing her the ribbons. He glanced at Mira. "Au revoir." He slapped the horse's haunch lightly as the phaeton pulled away from the bank of the Thames. Mira fought to keep from looking back at him. Au revoir… unlike the more formal adieu, it implied an expectation that they would see each other again.
"You stopped to speak with him out of my hearing," Rosalie observed, her hands white with tension as she grasped the ribbons and guided the horse through the street.
"Yes," Mira replied dazedly, wondering if the past two hours had somehow been a dream. "You seemed to be arguing." "We had a brief exchange of words." "Tonight was not the first time you have met." "No. He was… he was a guest at Sackville's hunt. Almost everyone at that hunt knew who I was and the pretext for my presence there."
"Those things you said to him just after he came to our aid … Mireille, I've never seen you act so rudely! It seems to me that your acquaintance with him must be more than superficial if you—"
"I was merely upset," Mira said instantly. "I hardly knew what I was saying." She knew exactly what she had been saying. But for her own peace of mind, her past relationship with Alec would have to remain in the past, and the only way to ensure that was to pretend that nothing had gone on between them. The question was, would Alec fall in so easily with this plan?
"That's a relief," Rosalie said, sounding vaguely unconvinced. "I certainly would not have been happy to find out that you had been involved with him in any way."
Mira frowned and peered at her curiously. "You sound as if you dislike him."
"To be dreadfully honest, I'm afraid that's true. I don't like him. I appreciate what he just did for us, and I won't deny that he is a charming man when he cares to be, but…" Rosalie's voice nearly sank into the wind, "… he is not a gentleman. I have heard.
many things about him. He has a bad temper. Further-more, he is not in the least straightforward… he will say one thing when he means another, and he seem; to be a most untrustworthy man. There have been tales of his involvement in shocking scandals, even though nothing is ever proven—"
"But it would be rather hypocritical of me to hold a scandal against someone, wouldn't it?" Mira pointed out. As Rosalie made no reply, she added, "Are you keeping something back? Has he ever done something objectionable to you?"