My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues #2)(26)

When Lucien had first suggested they spend the day out of the city, she had hesitated. She was all too aware of the danger of spending such a vast amount of time alone with this gentleman. He was too achingly handsome, too charming, too sensually compelling not to be a danger to any maiden.

But the desire to be away from the cramped house and dark streets had proved to be irresistible.

She did not want to spend the day brooding on yet another murdered maiden or on the strange fear that she was being ruthlessly hunted. Just for a few hours she wanted to feel young and unfettered and happy.

And she had.

The day had been filled with laughter and the sort of lighthearted teasing that she had not enjoyed in far too long.

Now it was time to return to her home and the ever-present duty of the life she had chosen. A life that until Lucien's arrival had been quite enough to fill her with satisfaction.

Sternly telling herself that she was still quite satisfied with her chosen existence, Jocelyn devotedly attempted to ignore the pleasure of just being seated so closely beside him as they retraced the narrow path to London. She could not, however, entirely prevent her renegade gaze from occasionally straying to admire the purity of his profile.

Blast it all, he was so utterly beautiful. The chiseled perfection of his features. The faint bronze of his skin. The tawny satin of his long hair. The pure gold of his eyes.

And above it all, the shimmering appreciation for life that crackled about him with an irresistible force.

It seemed rather unfair that one gentleman should be so blessed.

Especially for those poor, unsuspecting females who happened to stray across his path.

Intent on her thoughts, Jocelyn paid little heed to the fact that they had reached the outskirts of London, not even when they strayed through the more elegant squares as they lazily made their way back toward her small home. Had she had her wits about her, she would have been properly on guard. As it was, she had no warning when she heard a startled male voice call out her name.

Abruptly turning her head, Jocelyn felt a chill inch down her spine at the sight of the elegantly at-tired dandy who angled his mount directly toward the carriage.

It had been nearly three years since she had last laid eyes upon Lord Patten. He had not changed. His dark hair was still artfully tousled about his narrow face, and the dark eyes still burned with a restless boredom. With the wisdom of age, however, Jocelyn now could see the faint petulant turn of those full lips and the weakness in the rounded chin. A pity she had not been so observant before, she ruefully acknowledged.

Bracing herself for the inevitable encounter, Jocelyn felt Lucien slow the carriage as Lord Patten bore down upon them. She would not allow this gentleman to know just what it cost her to face him with her chin held high.

"Jocelyn." The dandy brought his flashy mare to a halt as he allowed his gaze to openly survey her modest gown and hair pulled into a stern knot. "Good heavens, it is you."

Somehow she kept her smile intact despite the obvious insult in his tone. She was well aware she no longer resembled the giddy, overly naive debutante he had known. And in truth, she was far more content with the mature woman she had become. At least she was now too wise to be deceived by shallow charm and the lies of a practiced seducer.

"Good afternoon, Lord Patten."

The dark brows lifted at the chill in her tone. "I did not realize you had returned to London. I have not seen you about."

Jocelyn shrugged. "I have been far too occupied to attend the usual events."

Predictably the foul dandy turned his head to glance speculatively at the silent Lucien at her side, a mocking smile abruptly curving his mouth.

"I see. There does not seem to appear a need to explain what, or should I say who, has kept you occupied."

Jocelyn sensed Lucien stiffen. Slowly he leaned forward to stab the nobleman with a dagger glare. "Take care, my lord, I have little patience for fools."

There was no missing the stark warning in his voice, and an ugly color suddenly stained Lord Patten's narrow face.

"Indeed? And who might you be?"

"Mr. Valin and a friend to Miss Kingly."

"Valin?" The dandy frowned as he attempted to place the name. Suddenly a rather sickly recognition rippled over the thin features. "Are you related to Mr. Ravel?"

"A cousin," Lucien readily admitted, seeming to take pleasure in the obvious unease at the mention of his relative. Jocelyn could only presume that Mr. Ravel possessed a powerful position among society.

"Oh." There was an awkward pause as Lord Patten sought to disguise his sudden embarrassment At last he turned toward Jocelyn with a strained smile. "Are you staying with your parents?"

A sharp pang tore through her at the offhand words, but thankfully she managed to appear utterly indifferent.

"No."

"Then with a friend?"

"I now possess my own establishment," she retorted in clipped tones.

A genuine flare of shock widened the dark eyes at her abrupt announcement. Young maidens of breeding simply did not possess their own establishment. It was nearly as scandalous as being caught in a grotto, being seduced by a known rake.

"Your own establishment?"

"Yes. And I must be returning home. Please excuse us."

"Wait. Surely I shall see you about town?"

"Highly doubtful."