The Princess and the Peer(7)
Given the circumstances, he’d expected to see tears, or perhaps fear, shimmering in those eyes. But there was outrage instead and a kind of pride that seemed almost regal.
A stunner with a streak of fire, he mused. I like her already.
Quite without meaning to, he smiled, the blood in his veins pumping strong and fast—and not from running.
She tilted up her chin and raised an imperious brow. “And just what are you grinning about? Or do you think it’s amusing that I’ve been robbed?” she demanded, her voice equally as lovely as the rest of her.
“No,” he said automatically. Yet in spite of the seriousness of the situation, he couldn’t seem to erase the smile from his face. She was just too pretty for him not to smile.
“Ooh,” she cried with frustrated fury, stamping one small foot against the pavement. “What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on them. If only I’d been able to run fast enough to catch up.”
Considering her slender frame and modest height, he found the idea ludicrous. “And just what would you have done if you had caught them?”
“I would have had them tossed in the deepest, darkest dungeon I could find. After I’d taken my reticule back, of course.”
“Of course.” His lips twitched again, this time in delight at her irresistibly feminine logic.
At his expression, she looked him up and down once more. “You think I wouldn’t?”
“Not a bit, although you might find dungeons in rather short supply.”
“Not where I’m from.”
He folded his arms over his chest with interest. “Oh? And where might that be?”
She opened her mouth and then closed it again as if trying to decide whether she should answer. “Scotland,” she said after a lengthy pause.
“Scotland? You’re a long way from home.”
“You have no idea,” she murmured under her breath.
“You don’t sound Scottish,” he continued.
“I suppose I do not. I’ve… I’ve traveled a great deal over the years, you see.”
“And now you’re here in London. Are you alone?”
She sent him a measured look, sudden reserve in her gaze. “No. I have a friend in Town. I was on my way to meet her when I was set upon by those thieves.” She paused, studying him again. “If it doesn’t seem impertinent, just who are you, sir?”
“I suppose introductions are in order.” Taking off his hat, he made her an elegant bow. “Dominic Gregory, Earl of Lyndhurst, at your service.”
Chapter 2
Emma considered the man standing before her, silently marveling at the novelty of having a complete stranger introduce himself to her. Proper royal protocol required that a family member or other suitable acquaintance facilitate her introduction to anyone deemed appropriate for her to meet. To her recollection, she had never met anyone by any other means. Yet here she stood in a London street in a less-than-savory section of the city, making the acquaintance of a man she had first seen only five minutes ago. He claimed to be an English noble and she could think of no reason to disbelieve him, regardless of the highly unorthodox nature of their meeting.
As for the man himself, he was… impressive, to say the least.
Tall and magnificently built, he towered above her. His wide shoulders and athletic chest were encased inside a coat of tobacco brown superfine as though he’d been born wearing it. The same could be said for his tight buckskin breeches, which fit over his muscled thighs with taut perfection. His polished black leather Hessians gleamed, catching the light, as did a gold signet ring that graced one of his large, powerful-looking hands.
He wasn’t handsome in the conventional sense, she decided; his features were too angular, too rugged for classical male beauty. And yet there was something so compelling about him that she found it impossible to look away.
With her breath caught inside her chest, she traced her gaze over his thick, neatly trimmed coffee brown hair, across his commanding forehead and long, straight nose to his lean cheeks, square jaw, then up again to meet a pair of keen gray eyes whose shade reminded her of the velvety inner layer of a warm summer fog. She suspected she would not soon forget either his looks or the man himself—and not simply because he had attempted to aid her today.
If only he had been closer at hand when those thugs had decided to rob her. A man like him would never be the object of so brazen a theft. Given his intimidating physique, she was sure even the most unscrupulous of criminals steered well clear of him, afraid of the potential retaliation he might mete out.
She dearly wished he’d been able to catch the thieves, although part of her had to wonder why he had given chase at all. None of the other people in the marketplace had bothered, so why had he?