Page 14 (2/2)

He laughed “You’ve a tongue like a dagger, Francesca, sharp and quick But I don’t believe you”

“That Pretty Polly…?”

“Not Polly, damn it! I don’t believe you have a fiancé You’re like a flower, just waiting for spring to unfurl you”

“Oh please,” she groaned “Our groom could write better poetry! My fiancé certainly could He writes and—and sings, and paints, too”

He smiled, that seductive villain’s s that she wanted, and was most afraid of

At thatroom door opened and Mr Jardine stood there, his instinctive s “Francesca?”

It occurred to Francesca that all she had to do was tell Mr Jardine that Mr Thorne’s behavior was inappropriate and he would be gone within the hour All her troubles would be over But the words stuck in her throat It was because she didn’t want to explain herself to others, she told herself She wanted to handle this herself, in her oay

But so true

Adahtens you, you don’t want it to stop Secretly you ht even want him to win…

“I’htly

Mr Jardine said, “Come in and join us A drink, Mr Thorne?”

Francesca led the way Inside the drawing rooant in lavender silk, was seated on the sofa Her pale eyes grew round when she sahat her daughter earing “Good gracious, my dear!” she blurted out, and then bit her lip as Francesca’s own gaze narroarningly She rushed on “You’re wearing that brooch you found in York So…so…” She fu

Mr Jardine was pouring brandy into two glasses, but came swiftly to his wife’s aid “I think Francesca would look beautiful in whatever she chose to wear And perhaps this style is all the fashion in London?”

Oh dear, Francesca thought “I don’t knohat is fashionable in London and what isn’t,” she said loudly “I am far too countrified for London”

Was Mr Thorne s about his auche and unattractive? He was from London; surely he preferred the sort of women who knew their way about? Like Pretty Polly