Page 105 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
“Dick Stone doesn’t kiss,” she replied, a curious note in her voice. “Everyone says so.”
“Then you’ve escaped plunging us into scandal based on a technicality,” said Edward, shooting his cuffs and moving away from her. From the danger posed by her pretty lips.
He walked down the sidewalk and waited for her to follow.
“Don’t you need to, I don’t know, look at the lady further?” asked Tabby.
“No, can’t be her,” he said.
“Why’s that?”
“Never fucked her. Her mother was always in the way. That’s why I recognized her immediately, dratted harridan.”
Tabby looked back and then hurried to catch up with him.
They had an appointment to keep.
***
At the premises of the Buckskin Breechess, Edward enjoyed the comforts of a well-upholstered chair while drinking brandy between sips from Tabby’s silver water flask. She’d gotten him started on the habit, and now he couldn’t stop, curse her.
His lips curved, thinking of the many ways he’d like to curse her in their bed.
“Never thought I’d see you looking so smug,” said Lord Banastre Lascelles. In one arm, he cradled a baby-shaped bundle. In the other hand, he held his own brandy.
“New addition to the family?” asked Edward, leaning over to see.
“Molly gave me a girl two months ago,” said Bonnie, his eyes soft as he regarded the infant.
“And where is young master William?” asked Edward, always interested in the lad conceived right around the time he’d been called in as a stud — but born with the same golden locks Bonnie had sported as a youth.
“Got our petty tyrant down for a nap,” said Bonnie, collapsing in the chair. “Take this one for a moment so I can close my eyes. Her mother would never forgive me if I dropped her and dented her nose.”
Edward rose and gingerly took possession of the little bundle, sleeping placidly despite the transfer. She did rather have a sweet nose, he thought as he nursed the brandy and awaited his summons.
“Say, you wouldn’t know anything about my treason case, would you?” asked Edward, suddenly recalling that Lord Banastre was an eminently well-connected gentleman both by virtue of birth and the fact that he hung about his wife’s tailoring shop every day — when he wasn’t occupied with the children.
“The time you met someone bearing a resemblance to a Bonaparte in Portugal? That what you’re referring to?” Bonnie asked, his eyes still closed.
”Isthatwhat they say?” asked Edward, nearly jumping from his chair.
“Careful now, Bonnie will wake, and then there’ll be hell to pay.”
“You named your daughter…after yourself?” Edward asked, regarding the infant.
“Bonnie Augusta. Molly did it, said I was a good boy who deserves nice things.”
“I’m sure she did,” said Edward, his eyes cast to the heavens.
“You’re telling me youdidn’tmeet with one of Napoleon’s many relatives?” asked Bonnie. Edward was busy studying the baby, but he could hear the smile in Bonnie’s voice.
“Who is saying that, anyway?”
“Oh, gossip? We men rather like our little tales, don’t we? And it all starts up again when the old guard of the Shiny Tenth prepares for a reunion. New clothes needed for a house party, you know, so they’re in the shop talking daily.”
“I wouldn’t know,” said Edward, firmly on the outs after his ignominious end that would have seen him in a noose or before a firing squad had his father not stepped in.
“I would, unfortunately,” said Bonnie, sighing and shifting in his chair, still trying to find the best position for a nap. “My third eldest brother hosts.”
