left Theodora without a parting shot.
And gave Lord Nicholas a degree of satisfaction.
But within the third week of their distinctly uneasy acquaintance, there was a particular development in the nature of their relationship, a strange little event that gave both lady and gentleman much to consider. As Nicholas drove his curricle through the city, having visited his bank, he spied a familiar female figure. There, standing on the pavement, on the corner of Chancery Lane and Fleet Street, was a lady whom he could not possibly mistake. She held her reticule, gloves and parasol in one hand, and a guide book, compiled for those travellers who might wish to enjoy the sights of London, open in the other. She was clearly oblivious to the small crowd of urchins and undesirables who had gathered, attracted by her obvious wealth and her unaccompanied state.
He drew in his horses beside her, a heavy frown apparent.
She looked up, a delightful picture in a gauze and satin straw bonnet, but her words did not hold the same charm.
‘Do not say anything, my lord!’
So he obligingly did not, but made no attempt to hide his disapproval of her unchaperoned situation in the City as he held his matched chestnuts under firm control. What was she thinking! The fact that her presence here had caused him a ripple of concern for her safety was rapidly discarded.
‘I am lost,’ Thea snapped. Of all people, why did it have to be Lord Nicholas Faringdon to drive past, to look down his arrogant—if beautiful—nose at her as if she were a beetle in his path? ‘I should not be here—and certainly not unchaperoned. I should have a maid with me. I should not be drawing attention to myself. Anything else, my lord?’
She had read him to perfection. He suppressed any sign of wry amusement, so his reply was cold and curt.
‘I cannot think of anything at the moment. You appear to have covered every aspect of this unfortunate situation.’
He dismounted, handing the reins to the groom, his expression not pleasant at the inconvenience. ‘I think I should return you to your family, ma’am.’
‘Why should you? I would much rather go to St Paul’s.’
Without a word he held out his hand and, when she complied—she could hardly do other in this busy street—helped her up into the curricle.
‘And why are
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