Silk and Shadows(7)

He put his hand over hers. "We must set a wedding date, Sara. I would like the marriage to take place in about three months, perhaps the first week of September."

"So soon?" she said uncertainly. "I was thinking in terms of six months or a year."

"Why should we wait so long? We are neither of us children." Weldon's face changed, real tenderness coming into his eyes. "Speaking of children, Eliza wants the wedding to be as soon as possible so she can come live with us. Though she is fond of her aunt and uncle, she says they lack dash."

Sara smiled. Weldon's love of the eleven-year-old daughter of his first marriage was the trait that had convinced her that he would make an amiable husband. "I'm so glad Eliza approves of me. She is such a darling. Did no one ever tell her that stepmothers are supposed to be wicked?"

"Eliza has too much good sense to believe fairy tales." Weldon turned to Sara, his eyes intense. "Tell me that you will marry me in September. I don't want to wait."

He was right—there was no good reason for a long engagement. "Very well, Charles, since that is what you wish."

Weldon drew her into his arms and sealed their betrothal with a kiss. Sara had guessed that this was coming and prepared herself. She had reached the age of twenty-seven with little experience of kissing, much less what came after.

As his powerful arms pulled her against the starched linen of his shirt, she decided that his embrace was not so bad, though rather engulfing. Perhaps in time she would come to enjoy kissing. Then his tongue slipped between her lips into her mouth, and she stiffened.

Immediately he released her, his breathing uneven. 'I'm sorry, Sara," he said apologetically. "For a moment I forgot myself. I did not mean to offend your innocence. That must be saved for our wedding night." There was a hungry, possessive look in his yes as he cupped her cheek with one hand.

Once more Sara felt a faint thread of alarm.

Once more, she suppressed it.





Chapter 2





Peregrine turned in a slow circle, scanning the drawing room of his newly acquired suite in the Clarendon Hotel. It was a rather overpowering example of European luxury, replete with gilt furniture, heavy moldings, and mediocre paintings of landscapes and dying animals. Personally he thought the room would be improved by replacing the overstuffed chairs with cushioned divans, but the place would do well enough for the time being.

Kuram, his Pathan servant, entered the drawing room, resplendent in white turban and red silk tunic. "Mr. Benjamin Slade to see you, Excellency."

The man who followed Kuram's heels was short, slightly built, and had thinning hair. He was a man who would be easily overlooked, unless one noticed the shrewd gray eyes. Bowing, he said, "It's a pleasure to welcome you to London, Your Highness."

Peregrine grinned as he shook hands with his visitor. "You and Kuram certainly seem to be enjoying my princeliness, Benjamin. It is not how you behaved in India."

Slade permitted himself a small smile. "To be a prince enhances your status in London. Even in private, I think it a good thing to maintain the formalities."

"Doubtless you are right. Care for some tea?"

Slade accepted the offer. While Kuram went to order refreshments, the Englishman brought his employer up to date on matters of business.

Peregrine had met Benjamin Slade five years earlier in Bombay. A lawyer by training, Slade had served the East India Company loyally for a decade before being dismissed in a cloud of scandal. After some quiet investigation, Peregrine learned that Slade's business acumen had helped make his superior, a Mr. Wilkerson, a wealthy man. His reward had been to be made a scapegoat for Wilkerson's embezzling.

Benjamin Slade had been an embittered and desperate man when Peregrine paid a call and offered him two things: a job and revenge. Slade had accepted both. Within a month, new evidence came to light that destroyed Wilkerson's career and sent him to prison. While the lawyer knew that the evidence must have been manufactured, he made no protest, for justice had been done. A month later, Slade took ship for London to become Peregrine's British business agent. In the intervening years he had served his employer brilliantly, in ways both orthodox and unorthodox.

After receiving an overview of recent business developments, Peregrine leaned back in his chair and crossed his long legs. "I wish to make a splash in the London social scene, so you must find me a fashionable house. Something worthy of a prince."

Slade nodded. "To rent or to buy?"

"Either. If no suitable property is available for lease, buy one. I would also like you to look for a country estate within two hours' drive of London. Besides an impressive house, there must be enough land so that it can be farmed profitably."