Silk and Shadows(3)

"I have no desire to injure the innocent." Peregrine leaned back against the embroidered-silk cushions. "Tell me more about your cousin."

"She is Lady Sara St. James, the only daughter of the Duke of Haddonfield. Our mothers were twin sisters, two Scottish beauties of modest birth. When they came to London, they had no fortune but their faces." Ross sipped more brandy, savoring the complex flavor. "It was fortune enough. They were called the 'Magnificent Montgomerys' and both became duchesses, setting a matrimonial standard that every ambitious mother in Britain has tried to match ever since, without success."

"How old is your cousin?"

Ross did a rapid calculation. Sara was four years younger than he... "Twenty-seven."

"Rather old to be still a maid. Is she uncomely?"

Ross laughed. "Not at all. Twenty-seven is not such a great age to be unwed in England, you know. If Sara had ever shown willingness, she would have been inundated in suitors, but she has had no desire to marry."

Peregrine's dark face was contemplative. "I should like to meet Lady Sara soon. But first I must be polished into the semblance of an English gentleman."

Ross inspected the other man. "Easily done. Tomorrow I'll take you to my tailor and barber. I warn you, fashionable English clothing will be much less comfortable than what you are wearing. But don't let yourself become too polished—a trace of the exotic will make you more interesting, for society craves novelty." He thought a moment more, then smiled mischievously. "I shall introduce you as a prince."

Peregrine's brows drew together. They were thick black and more than a little diabolical. "'Prince' is not the best translation of 'mir.' "

"Since there is no precise English equivalent, prince will do very well. To be a prince will earn you more respect, even though no foreign title could possibly be as good as an English one," Ross explained. "Prince Peregrine of Kafiristan. You will become a sensation."

Particularly among jaded society hostesses, Ross added with silent amusement. It was going to be very interesting to set this particular Asiatic hawk among the English society pigeons.

* * *

Lady Sara St. James was walking in the garden behind Haddonfield House when she heard masculine footsteps crunching on the gravel on the far side of the holly hedge. He was early.

Her fingers brushed uncertainly over her dark blond hair, then dropped when she became aware that she was behaving like a nervous female. While she was entitled to be nervous when waiting to accept an offer of marriage, she knew that Sir Charles Weldon's chief interest was not in her appearance. If spectacular beauty had been his primary goal, he would have looked elsewhere, but what he wanted was a wellborn lady who would be a gracious hostess and a step mother to his daughter. Sara was amply qualified for those roles, so it wouldn't have mattered if her hair was mussed. Though of course, it wasn't.

Wryly she decided to give Weldon what he was looking for, so she stopped and contemplated a lily in an impeccably ladylike pose. Then a familiar teasing voice called out, "Sara, where are you? I've been assured that you are lurking around here somewhere."

Artifice vanishing, she spun about and extended both hands to her cousin. "Ross! What a pleasant surprise. Did you bring the latest chapter of your book for me to read?"

He clasped her hands, then bent over to place a light kiss on her cheek. "I'm afraid to show it to you. Perhaps it was a mistake to interest you in oriental studies, for you have become entirely too critical a reader."

Sara gave him a concerned glance. "I'm sorry—I thought you said my comments were useful."

"That's the problem," he said with feeling. "You're always right. By this time you know more about Asia and the Middle East than most men in the Foreign Office. It would be easier if you were wrong, because then I could ignore your criticisms." He grimaced. "The next chapter should be done next week. It was easier to make the journey than to write about it."

Seeing that she was being teased, Sara relaxed. "I can't wait to see the next chapter. This will be your best book yet."

"You always say that," Ross said affectionately. "You're my best supporter."

"And you're my window on the wide world." Sara would never see the sights her cousin had, but his letters and journals had been the bright spots during her dark years. In fact, she had been the one who first suggested that he write about his travels. His first two books had become classic accounts of remote parts of the world, and the book he was working on now should be equally successful. "But I warn you, I'm expecting an important caller very soon."