Indiscretions. Gail Ranstrom

until tomorrow night. Might come back for ’em tomorrow, though. That’d make ’im happy.”

      “And it is always nice to keep the charge men happy, is it not?”

      He gave her an odd look and then laughed. “Aye. Nice.”

      Scarcely five minutes after his arrival at the Grahams’ picnic musicale, Hunt watched the color rise in Daphne’s cheeks as he bent over her right hand and drew it to his lips. Clearly, she was wondering if he would mention what had passed between them last night. He wouldn’t, of course. He was still that much of a gentleman. But he hadn’t promised it wouldn’t happen again.

      “I did not think I would see you again so soon, Lord Lockwood,” she said, almost stumbling over her words. Her hands were trembling and he feared she’d spill the wine in the glass she held in her left hand.

      “Then I shall count myself most fortunate, indeed, Mrs. Hobbs,” he said, playing the game of polite formality to appease the island gossips. He released her hand and turned to his hostess, plump, graying Mrs. Graham. “Thank you for including me in such a lively event.”

      “Our pleasure, Lord Lockwood. After all, you are one of us now.”

      “One of you? Ah, an islander.” He grinned. “Yes, I can see why so many people have made St. Claire their home. It has so much to recommend it.”

      Daphne met his gaze over the top of Mrs. Graham’s head. She blinked and then covered her mouth with a fan. To hide a smile?

      “Yes? Well, we think so, of course,” Mrs. Graham said with a gracious nod. “I hope you will consider extending your stay with us. We rarely have such a charming visitor.”

      Oh, he was charming enough. Men like him learned to use charm and social skills to hide what lay beneath. “You flatter me, Mrs. Graham. I am not in the least charming. My sister reminds me of that fact often.”

      She and Daphne laughed and he found himself wondering about Daphne’s background. Did she have brothers? Sisters? Were her parents still living? Would he and Daphne have anything in common at all? How odd that they’d spent such intimate time alone, and yet he knew so little about her. He must remedy that.

      “Be that as it may, Lord Lockwood, we are delighted to have you here,” Mrs. Graham insisted. “The musicians are setting up on the terrace, and you will find seating on the lawn. Hurry if you wish to claim a chair, otherwise you will find yourself sitting on a blanket. Oh, dear! That is Mr. Graham calling me.” She turned to Daphne and said, “I am really loath to leave you when you have only just met and are so unfamiliar with our modest little house. And I fear dinner will not be served until after the musical presentation.”