Page 5 of The Spy and His Lady Love
“No. Why should I care? Black, white, it doesn’t matter.”
“It’s my experience most men prefer black. They think white is the weaker color.”
“Nonsense.” He leaned slightly forward and whispered, “Don’t you mean weaker sex by referring to the color white as being female?”
Her cheeks warmed. “Actually, I believe the weaker sex to be males.” She lowered her eyes, afraid of what she might see.
Laughter, deep and throaty, rang out in the air. Her eyes popped up and her soft nervous giggles joined his laughter. “I don’t believe anyone has ever found humor when I’ve expressed my thoughts about what sex is weaker.”
“Pity, Lady Penelope. They obviously had no sense of fun or adventure.”
“And you do, Your Grace?” Oh dear. She was flirting. But how could she not. His musical laughter did strange things to her insides.
His expression changed from amusement to seriousness in the blink of an eye. “One cannot live as I do without it. Shall we play?”
“Yes, of course.” Penelope considered herself a better-than-average chess player. She’d often beat Wentworth or her other brother, Sebastian, who was presently visiting Scotland with his wife and the Dowager Duchess of Wentworth. Newbury put her skills to test. Five moves into the game he said, “Check Mate.”
“Would you care for another game?” If someone had told her earlier today, she would enjoy the Duke of Newbury’s company she would have told them they were daft.
“Thank you. Another time, perhaps.” Leaning heavily on his cane, he awkwardly stood and bowed formally. “It was a pleasure. Goodnight, Lady Penelope.” He paused and frowned thoughtfully. “I forgot to mention that you met my cousin, Mr. Hugh Sinclair, last night at the masquerade. He seems quite taken with you.”
She hurried to stand and curtsy. “Goodnight, Your Grace.”
Watching him leave, leaning heavily on his cane, but still appearing young, fit, and vibrant, Penelope puzzled. She couldn’t believe the insufferable and intriguing gentleman she’d danced with last evening was related to Newbury. Or perhaps not. They seemed of the same build and height.
Once in bed, beneath the counterpane, her eyes closed, she envisioned Emma’s pirate and he resembled Newbury right down to the scar. She found the pirate rather attractively handsome. And fell asleep having pleasant dreams of her and her pirate.
