“And yet, here you are, and for that I’m indescribably grateful. Shall we go in search of her?”
“No need,” she said as they turned the corner. Jane was sitting in a corner, her loo mask gone, an odd expression on her face. And then she saw Miranda and her relief was plain as she rose on unsteady feet.
“You go to her,” Lucien said, releasing her arm. “I doubt Mr. Bothwell would appreciate his future wife being introduced to the Scorpion. I’ll pick you up at four tomorrow. Be ready. ”
“But …” He’d already walked away, disappearing into the crowds, and Miranda moved ahead, catching Jane’s trembling ar
ms in hers.
“Jane, dearest, did something happen? You look upset. ”
Jane’s laugh was a little shaky. “You won’t believe it when I tell you, but you’ll have to wait until we get back to the house. Let’s get out of here. ”
Miranda cast one last look behind her, but Lucien de Malheur had disappeared. She turned back to her friend with deep foreboding. Jane was looking just as she ought to look—happy and excited and in love.
And Miranda knew that something was very wrong.
7
“You did what?” Miranda demanded, staring at her friend in astonishment.
They were back in Miranda’s cozy little house, the dominos discarded, the dancing slippers gone as well, sitting by a fire in the small salon where Cousin Louisa usually held court. That stout lady had retired to bed, and they were entirely alone.
“I didn’t do it! He’s the one who kissed me. ” She blushed. “And I have to say it was quite delightful. You never told me men use their tongues when they kiss. ”
“They do?” Miranda said doubtfully. “I don’t remember St. John doing anything like that, but he was fairly abrupt and practical about the whole horrid business. So you’re telling me you were thoroughly kissed by a jewel thief and you didn’t scream for help?”
“I promised I wouldn’t,” she said with a weak smile. “He definitely wasn’t a gentleman—I could tell that by his voice. But he was very tall, and very strong, and yet quite gentle when he kissed me. ” She had a faraway look in her eyes, and Miranda’s heart sank.
“Love, I don’t want you to marry a stiff, prosing bore like Bothwell, but you simply can’t fall in love with a member of the criminal class. You know that, don’t you?”
For a moment Jane looked deflated, and she nodded. “But you managed to change your life by running away. ”
Author: Anne Stuart
“Not necessarily for the better. I enjoy my life tremendously, but I wouldn’t wish it on you. And did this ruffian ask you to run away with him?”
“Of course not,” she said, sounding disappointed. “And if he had, I certainly wouldn’t have gone. It was just so … so …”
“Exciting?” Miranda suggested, but Jane shook her head. “Frightening? Distracting? Entertaining? Tempting?”
“Delicious,” she said with a shy smile, brushing her hair away from her face.
Miranda froze. “What the bloody hell is that?”
“What?” Jane said, confused.
“On your finger. That’s not Bothwell’s tiny little ring. ”
Jane looked at her hand, and jumped, uttering a distressed squeak. A very large, very handsome diamond now rested on the ring finger of her left hand, and she yanked at it, trying to pull it off. It wouldn’t budge.
“Oh, no,” she moaned.
“Where’s Bothwell’s ring?”
She held out both hands, but the plain, cheap little ring was nowhere in sight. “Oh, God, what am I going to do, Miranda? How will I ever explain this to him?”
“Try your pockets. ”