Sherlock Holmes meets Pride and Prejudice in this bewitching and scintillating romance between an eccentric gypsy detective and a young spinster governess.
Harriet Morgan, a shy, nurturing young woman, watches the finishing school she has seen as he...
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All the men sat in the study smoking cigars after dinner while the women went to the drawing room. Alastair began cutting the deck and showing off his skills with shuffling that Nicu had taught him. Smoke filled the air and Nicu sat pondering all the mental pieces he had collected so far from the fire.
"I'm hoping that the distraction of this case finally gives Liam and me a chance at defeating you." Lord Rathborne stated in total seriousness.
Nicu, snuffing out his cigar, turned to Lord Rathborne, "Doubtful, Phal. I never lose."
The cribbage board was pulled away from Nicu as St. George narrowed his silvered eyes at him. "I don't know how, but I'm certain you cheat every time. I'll keep score if you don't mind."
Nicu shrugged his shoulders, not caring in the least while Alastair dealt six cards for each player. St. George leaned back against his chair, making it creak as he eyed Nicu.
"Is there another reason for your apprehensive stares Liam?"
In private the men let go of calling each other by their respective names and titles, not that Nicu ever followed that tradition. None of them may be blood siblings, but their bond seemed to steel with each passing day.
St. George leaned forward. "I can't figure out if you detest Miss Morgan, who I may say is a lovely creature with the most pleasant—"
"My friend please refrain from finishing that sentence." Nicu addressed harshly, his eyes snapping to St. George's.
Scratching his jaw that had its evening shadow creeping up, St. George regarded his friend with a note of speculation. "Or if you desire her."
The cards Nicu was dealt made a good hand and he put two into his crib pile. "I will admit she has the conventional pretty face, but nothing that would tempt me. I like more sultry women, not sweet. Now, let me continue being the observant one. Liam, it is unbecoming of you when you try.'
Lord Rathborne chuckled at that, but St. George grinned like a cat seeing an appetizing mouse. "You may be more vastly intelligent about almost everything, Nicu, but not about women. Never have I seen you banter with one like you did with Harriet Morgan and she in return. There is clearly an attraction between you two."
"No, only hostility," Nicu clipped.
St. George cut the deck to determine the top card. "Sometimes those are one in the same."
"Not for me."
Exhaling a puff of smoke in the air, Lord Rathborne watched Nicu through the haze with his dark eyes and creased aristocratic brow. "Then what was that back there?"
The game began and they started alternating, laying down cards. Nicu already started racking up points by throwing down a king on top of Lord Rathborne's king, earning a pair.
"She irritates me with her prim and proper manner."
Lord Rathborne's cigar tip dimmed a dark orangish red glow as the man inhaled some of its taste. "You went too far and as the head of this estate, I have to implore you to apologize."
