David Lord of Honor (The Lonely Lords) Read Online Free PDF Page A

She’d make him crazy if she refused his hospitality after he’d made her cry.
    She regarded him dubiously then bit into a chocolate tea cake with raspberry icing, closing her eyes and making David’s mouth abruptly go dry. She was not such a Puritan as she’d have him think—maybe not such a Puritan as she tried to believe herself.
    “I really did need a woman’s opinion on a certain personal matter. I wasn’t making that up.” The hell he hadn’t been.
    She paused in the consumption of her sweet, very much a lady interrupted at her pleasures. “I beg your pardon?”
    “In the jewelry shop,” David clarified. “I needed a woman’s inspiration.”
    She eyed him warily as she slowly chewed on her second cake. “Regarding?”
    Mrs. Banks was not long on charm—or guile—and what a pleasant change that was. “I must buy a present for a lady about whom I care greatly.”
    “A family member?”
    “No. She isn’t related to me, though I hold her in very great affection.” Would cheerfully die for her, in fact.
    Mrs. Banks brushed at her lap, as if crumbs might have had the temerity to fall there, but he could see she was also grateful for a change in topic.
    As was David.
    “I trust, my lord, you are not asking me to help you choose a present for your current amour?”
    “I don’t have a current amour, Mrs. Banks. I own a brothel, if you will recall.” About which, he was not whining. “What would make a suitable gift for a little girl’s birthday?”
    Dark brows flew up, and she stopped fussing imaginary crumbs. He’d surprised his reluctant courtesan, which was more gratifying than it ought to be.
    “Tell me about this little girl.”
    “Her name is Rose, and to her I am Cousin David, though the family connection is attenuated. She is earnest and shy, loyal, affectionate, and very busy. Her best friend is Mr. Bear, and she has recently become the owner of a stalwart steed named George. She has knighted him, however, so he goes by the sobriquet Sir George.”
    “You are serious. This matters to you.” And that impressed her. David’s wealth had not, his charm had not, his steady nerves in the face of female tears had not, his fine tailoring and mismatched eyes had not, but his effort to find a present for Rose had. Mrs. Banks chewed a short nail, eyeing him. “A puppy?”
    Why hadn’t he thought of that? “Too obvious, and the girl’s parents might not appreciate the resulting mess.”
    “So a kitten is out too, or a caged songbird, though I’ve never approved of caging wild creatures. What does she like to do?”
    “She thrives on movement,” David said, and he, too, disapproved of taking wild creatures captive. “Rose loves to be outside, and because she has neither siblings nor cousins her own age, she’s usually in her mother’s company. She has a terrific imagination, loves animals, and can draw with uncanny skill.”
    “Her first set of watercolors, in a wooden case engraved with her name and the date.”
    Far better than the set of grooming tools the girl’s ducal grandpapa was rumored to have had made. David resisted the impulse to kiss Mrs. Banks on both cheeks. “Well done, Mrs. Banks. An excellent suggestion.”
    “Books,” she went on, “inscribed by you, books of fairy tales about knights and princesses and dragons.”
    “Splendid. Even her step-papa will be impressed, and he is her knight in shining armor.” The wretch.
    “Gardening tools, because she likes to be out of doors, sized to her hand, inscribed. Some Holland bulbs, though it’s not the proper time of year to plant them.”
    “Capital!”
    “Her own stationery.”
    “You are a genius, Mrs. Banks. My troubles are solved.”
    She smiled at him, a true, open, winsome smile such as might send a man off on great quests and keep him warm on cold nights. “Which one will you get her?”
    “All of the above, of course.”
    “You shouldn’t.”
    “Whyever not? I am Cousin David, and I can do no wrong.