The Lady Travelers Guide To Larceny With A Dashing Stranger. Victoria Alexander

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СКАЧАТЬ of course. Allow me to introduce Mr. Dante Montague.” Rosalind cleared her throat. “My brother.”

      “Your what?” Relief swept through her. Only because she would not have to take the moral high ground—which she wasn’t sure anyone would believe—and not because of the wicked sparkle dancing in his eyes. And the way he looked at her as if she were something rather remarkable. Men had looked at her in similar ways before, of course, but it had always been much more lascivious. And she had been married. And it had been a very long time since.

      “Her brother.” He grinned. “We’ve been told there’s a certain family resemblance.”

      “When we were children perhaps.” Rosalind scoffed. “Fortunately, we have grown out of it.”

      “And your name is Dante?” For whatever reason she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze from his. Nor did she want to. “As in the nine circles of hell?”

      He chuckled. “My mother had a passion for literary names. You’re familiar with Dante’s Divine Comedy, then?”

      An endless, fourteenth-century epic poem that was forced down the throats of unsuspecting schoolgirls in the name of classics while they did their best to avoid it? The sort of thing a girl might only skim in order to answer the most basic questions about it? She forced a light laugh. “Who isn’t?”

      “Excellent. I look forward to discussing it with you.”

      “You can let go of her hand now,” Rosalind said pointedly.

      Willie pulled her hand from his. “That does sound like fun.”

      “I expect this tour to be a great deal of fun, as well.” Mr. Montague continued to study her as if he couldn’t bear to take his eyes away. It was at once flattering and a bit unnerving.

      “I’m curious, Mr. Montague.”

      “Dante, please.” There were those dimples again. “We’re going to be together every day for the next month after all.”

      “Regardless, we have only just met. It would be far too improper and not at all the way to begin an adventure like this.” Oh Lord. Why couldn’t the man have had a name like Horacio or Ebenezer. Why did he have to have the name of an Italian poet?

      And where on earth had this voice of propriety of hers come from? Why, she had never been the least bit concerned about rules before. It was no doubt his fault. This man, this Dante, might be very, very dangerous. Or he could be a great deal of fun. She wasn’t sure she was ready for fun and certainly not for danger. Her previous life had had entirely too much of both—or the illusion of both—and had, in hindsight, been exhausting. Although she would admit there were frequent moments when she missed it.

      “Might I ask why you decided to join a tour directed at ladies and their daughters?”

      “Well, I—”

      “In truth, this whole thing was my brother’s idea,” Rosalind answered. “He is paying for our entire trip. The dear man.”

      “It was a gift,” Dante said quickly. “And most deserved.”

      “It was a bribe.” Rosalind smirked. “Also most deserved.”

      “And as I was at loose ends, with nothing pressing to keep me in London at the moment—”

      “Alas my dear brother has not yet found himself a wife.” Rosalind heaved a long-suffering sigh.

      Dante shot her a sharp look then continued. “I thought it might be nice to accompany my dear, dear sister and her charming daughter.”

      “How very...thoughtful of you.” And indeed it did appear quite thoughtful although one couldn’t help but wonder at the undercurrents ebbing between brother and sister and exactly what Dante’s bribe was for. And wouldn’t that be interesting to find out?

      “And then when I discovered you were to be one of the travelers, well, how could I possibly pass up the opportunity to make the acquaintance of the legendary Wilhelmina Bascombe.”

      “How indeed.” She forced a light laugh. Legendary? What utter rubbish. She did have a certain reputation—at least she used to—but it had been two years since she’d done anything at all let alone anything legendary.

      “I believe we should probably get on board,” Mr. Montague said to his sister then turned to Willie. “Don’t you agree, Lady Bascombe?”

      “Yes, of course,” she murmured.

      Dante assisted his sister up the steps. She said something quietly into his ear then glanced back at Willie and smiled. He turned to Willie and took her hand to help her into the car. It wasn’t really necessary. But it was quite nice.

      “I cannot tell you how delighted I am that I decided to come along,” he said in a low voice behind her.

      A frisson of something that might have been delight—or worse, anticipation—ran up her spine. She ignored it.

      It had been a long time since she’d felt any sort of attraction to a man. Certainly it was not unexpected that she would do so at some point. She had been a widow for two years after all and even at the age of thirty she did not consider herself old. Nor did she have any desire to spend the rest of her life alone.

      But Willie had met any number of dashing, charming, handsome men before. George was dashing and handsome and charming. Her next husband was going to be sensible and rational and practical. A man who had more on his mind than the next ball or rout or hunt. At the very least, a man who was aware of his responsibilities and lived up to them. A man who paid his bills.

      No, she was finished with men who were impulsive and wanted nothing more than to enjoy everything life had to offer. The next time she married she wanted a bit of moderation.

      A man who put entirely too much effort into charming a woman—even if he was nice to his sister—was not to be trusted. Legendary indeed. Besides, a man who had the name and the charm of an Italian poet and the looks of a Roman god was the last thing she needed or wanted.

      Even if she suspected he might well be irresistible.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      “WELL?” DANTE SAID in an aside to his sister, his gaze on Lady Bascombe at the far end of the car. She sat at a table studying a large map and papers that no doubt had to do with the tour, looking shockingly efficient. If there was one word that was not in the dossier he had been given on Wilhelmina Bascombe it was efficient. “How was that for charming?”

      “Quite good, Dante. I scarcely recognized you.” Roz directed her words to him but kept her gaze on the ladies’ magazine she paged through. “Not the least bit stuffy. One would think you’d been practicing.”

      He bit back a grin. He hadn’t attempted to flirt in longer than he could remember, and he was never especially accomplished at it as he’d always thought it rather silly. But it was somewhat like riding a horse again when one hadn’t ridden for some time. And oddly enough, it was surprisingly enjoyable.

      The СКАЧАТЬ