A Most Dangerous Profession(90)

“So do I,” Jane said in a soothing tone. She deftly smoothed his lapels and tucked a corner of his cravat back into his coat front. “But fools that they are, they seem to wish to speak to you first. If they knew you better they’d never wish for such a thing, for you’re by far the rudest man I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you,” he snapped.

“You’re welcome. Unfortunately, that’s what happens when you allow a nice person to write your newspaper serial—now the world thinks you’re nice. It’s a burden, but one that you must bear.”

“If I have to speak to that fool, you do, too.”

“No, I don’t. I’ve realized that though I’m wearing my best gown and my favorite hat, I’m woefully underdressed. So I must leave before I undermine your efforts.”

Michael was about to answer with a strong “Nonsense!” when Mary nodded. “Miss Smythe-Haughton, since you’re leaving, I’ll be glad to escort my brother to meet with the duke.”

“A perfect plan.” Jane’s eyes shimmered with mockery. “You’re such a fortunate man.”

“And you’re such a pain in the rear.”

Mary looked shocked. “Michael!”

Jane just twinkled up at him. “Mr. Hurst, I won’t work for you if you cannot pay me, so you’d best find a sponsor soon. For if I don’t work for you, then who will make certain your favorite pillow is there when you climb into your tent at night?”

“I don’t have a favorite pillow.”

“You do; you just don’t know it. You also like your meals on time, your notebooks stowed in a particular order, and clean socks at every stage of the journey. If you wish those things to continue, then you’d best set about earning my very respectable wage.” She turned to Mary and held out her hand. “Lady Erroll, it was lovely finally meeting you.”

Mary clasped Jane’s hand warmly. “It’s lovely finally meeting you, as well. I can see that Michael is in good hands when he’s on expedition.”

“Thank you, I do my best. Good-bye.”

She turned and went back into the crowd, her large hat wreaking havoc as she made her way to the door.

Michael grinned until he noticed that the bumpkin who’d so eagerly spoken to Jane was pressing through the crush, trying to reach her. But Jane was too swift and she managed to slip out of the room, her yellow hat disappearing from sight.

Michael turned to his sister. “Now, where’s this duke of yours? I’ll be damned if I wash my own socks on my next expedition.”