A Tall Dark Stranger by Joan Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

translated that to “eligible ladies.” “I shall introduce you to the local ladies at the assembly,” I said.
    His lips opened in a teasing smile. “Tired of me so soon, Miss Talbot?”
    “Have you forgotten so soon that I’m kind? It would be selfish of me to keep you all to myself.”
    “Kind, talented—and a minx. Oh, and I forgot— beautiful. What an intriguing combination. And here Beau assured me you were the veriest provincial. Did I mention that?”
    “You left that compliment out. Odd you were so eager to meet me, in that case.”
    “Oh, but I adore provincials. You mustn’t mistake me for a town buck.”
    My eyes toured his jacket, handsome cravat, and York tan gloves. “It is clear to the most untrained eye that you have no interest in fashion,” I said ironically.
    “That is exactly what my London friends said when they saw what I wore home from Calcutta. You will notice my clothes, like my curricle, are new. As I plan to keep them for some time, I invested in the best. Quality pays in the long run. Where do we take the first invitation?”
    Mrs. Davis was the closest recipient. She came hastening to the door and kept me chatting for five minutes, while peering over my shoulder at Renshaw and asking a hundred questions about him.
    “Sorry,” I said when I finally got back to Renshaw. “But it’s all your own fault. You can’t expect to drive such a flashy rig as this and not have everyone inquiring about you.”
    It was three-quarters of an hour later before we got out of town. Besides delivering the notes, we were stopped by a half-dozen friends and then we met Lollie.
    He came pouncing forward to greet not me or Renshaw but the curricle and the grays. After admiring every glint of silver and every point of the team, he said, “By the way, sis, can you change a tenner for me? I want to pay the cobbler, but he doesn’t have change for a ten,”
    “I don’t carry that much money on me!”
    “Perhaps I can help,” Renshaw said, and drew out a pretty thick purse. He gave Lollie two fives. As he took Lollie’s ten-pound note, I noticed that he examined it in a careful but surreptitious way. He looked at the front, then turned it over.
    “It ain’t a forgery,” Lollie said, ready to take offense.
    Renshaw looked up and grinned. “Nothing personal, Talbot. Didn’t you hear there are forged notes about? Very good ones, I hear. Beau got one last night in a game of cards. As you said you just came from the bank, I was concerned that you might have been given one in error, but this one is genuine right enough.”
    He showed us how the forged notes could be recognized by some irregularity of the printing on the back of the note.
    “I shall be on the lookout for that,” Lollie said. “Thank you for warning me, Renshaw.”
    “As your money is good, you are welcome to join us in a game of roulette at Beau’s place tonight.”
    Lollie’s eyes lit up like a lamp. “By Jove!”
    “Auntie is counting on you to fill in at her card table this evening, Lollie,” I said at once. I was happy to have an excuse at hand. Beau’s games were for high stakes and Lollie is a mere tyro at gambling.
    “Dash it, who wants to play with a bunch of old ladies?”
    “It will not all be old ladies. She invited the Lemons as well. Addie will be coming.”
    “Another time, Talbot,” Renshaw said, and won favor by adding, “You must try the reins of my grays one day soon.”
    “By Jove!” Lollie said again. He soon left, promising to be in touch with Renshaw to arrange a mutually satisfactory day and hour for testing the grays.
    “That was demmed thoughtless of me,” Renshaw said at once. He looked genuinely sorry. “I take it, from your quick intervention, that you don’t like your brother gambling.”
    “The best throw of the dice is to throw them away.” That was one of Auntie’s proverbs. When I noticed Renshaw’s lips twitching in amusement at such an antiquated attitude, I added, “Beau’s