“They had a nice,if not private, reunion before Rupert joined them. He didn't exactly ruin it, but if he insisted on enacting their pretense tonight, even for her mother,it surely would. Unfortunately, he entered the room wearing a horribly bright lime-green dinner jacket that had his mother immediately scowling at him. So even after that kiss upstairs, he'd decided on an evening of humorously baiting his mother again. Bad timing, with her own mother there, or maybe not.At least it kept Rebecca's own mood light for the moment, since she knew why he did it.Nor did Julie hold her tongue, remarking in disgust, "I see your taste is still beyond flamboyant. You're a bloody peacock, Rue."He actually looked behind him as he replied, "I thought I had my feathers tucked away nicely.”

“Rebecca,why haven't you burned his wardrobe yet?"Rebecca turned to see what had provoked that question, then just stared. Her husband was wearing one of those horribly bright satin coats better suited to a costume ball, this one in a ghastly orange, with excesive lace at the wrists and the throat. With his long black hair and his soft cheeks so smoothly shaved,it made him look somewhat effeminate when she knew he was anything but.But he actually looked to be trying not to laugh when he said to his mother, "She'll do nothing of the sort. She likes my taste in clothes. It reminds her of when we first met."Rebecca continued to just stare, her mind in a whirl. It sounded as if he was just teasing, but she couldn't be sure. To imply that she had fond memories of their first meeting wasn't even remotely amusing. She had nothing of the sort."You can't seriously intend to take your wife out wearing something like that?" Julie continued."What's wrong with what she's wearing?""Not her,you fool.You! You're married now. Your old taste in clothes-""Marriage has nothing to do with taste, Mother," Rupert cut in. "Well, perhaps a little,at least in women, but nothing a'tall to do with one's wardrobe.Shall we go, m'dear?"The last was added for Rebecca as he put an arm around her to lead her out of the room. His hand on her hip was all she could think about.But his mother refused to be dismissed so easily. Julie actually shouted at him, "Find a new tailor! You're mortifying your wife!”

“It didn't even help that I had a man watching the house.I suppose he can be forgiven for not thinking Mary Pearson could be a threat.""I knew about him," Rebecca replied. "I found him hiding in the garden this morning. I took him some cookies."Rupert laughed. "Did you? How embarrassing for him, but that was probably my mother's spy.Mine would have been better hidden!”

“In the same vein, Rupert knew that he'd found his own ideal match,too. He just couldn't imagine how he was going to convince her of it.But that wasn't what he was thinking about on the ride home. Unable to take his eyes off of his wife,he said, "There's something about riding in a coach with you that drives me crazy."Rebecca's dark blue eyes flared, but she didn't protest when he moved across to her seat and gathered her into his arms. Catching his wife off guard did have its advantages, which was fortunate, because she really did inflame his passions without even trying. One heady taste of her and most of his control was gone."Could it be because we nearly made love in this coach before?" he said against her lips. "Or could it be because I suspect you were sitting here earlier tonight thinking of me with my breeches off?"Rebecca gasped but he just thrust his tongue deeply inside her until she no longer seemed to feel like upbraiding him for that teasing remark. He loved teasing her. It was too bad she was rarely in a mood for it.Unfortunately,she didn't let his remark go unanswered, though they were nearly home before she pulled away from his arms to say breathlessly, "I was doing nothing of the sort.”

“The servant wasn't amused. He still looked stern and suspicious, but Rupert had given his improvised explanation while walking toward the man and was within reach by the last word. He tried a punch first, grabbing the servant's shirtfront as he did so the man wouldn't land out in the hall. If that didn't work,he wasn't sure what would. He certainly didn't want to seriously harm the fellow,just knock him out and dump him out the window for the time being.Half of that plan worked. The man did drop immediately and Rupert's hold on him kept him from falling loudly to the floor. He even got him to the window with ease, but the plan ended there. Priceless. The window frame was nailed shut for the cold months to minimize drafts. Bloody hell,it wasn't that cold yet. There were no large pieces of furniture to stick the man behind either. As a last resort, he dragged him back to the hall wall and just laid him down alongside it, so he'd be less noticeable to anyone passing by the room”

“What do you do for Nigel Jennings?"There was no pause at all. "I'm his tailer," he answered immediately."You're nothing of the sort."Rupert gave her a cheeky grin. "Meant to say, he's my tailor."She cast him a thoughtful look. "Interesting that you would lie about it.""You call joking lying?""Evasion is a form of deceit.""Interesting that you would see it that way." He gave her back her own words. She almost laughed.While he hadn't answered her question any more truthfully than she had answered his, he surprised her by not pursuing his inquiry about why she had been on Wigmore Street. Fingering a white silk yarn within his reach, he said, "I'll take a vest in this if you run out of ideas to ply your needle toward."She couldn't help but grin. "Will you indeed? But that implies a gift-"He cut in, "Consider it an early Christmas present," and actually sounded serious."I don't make presents for mere aquaintances.""We're more'n that.""We aren't.""Of course we are,or do you make a habit of kissing mere aquaintances?"She huffed. "You did the kissing, not I."He was grinning again. "You fully participated,Becca. Don't even try to deny it.”

“You don't look like a Rupert."Startled,he raised a black brow at her. "Dare I ask what I look like to you?""A hungry wolf."He didn't laugh at the description, but he did abruptly release her. "Wolf, perhaps," he said drily. "Hungry? Not at the moment."She had enough sense to guess she'd just been insulted. Had she touched a nerve perhaps? Good,because he was certainly touching too many of hers.Regaining her balance after stumbling back from him,she went to straighten her skirt in an indignant manner,but forgot she wasn't wearing one.How could she appear to be offended while she was wearing britches? She settled for grabbing the hat off the floor and shoving it back down on her head.The very idea! Not hungry at the moment? As if she didn't know he was implying she wasn't to his taste.”