Yet she didn’t bat a lash and as minutes ticked by, Jasper noticed her eyes were an unusual shade of blue. One that renewed memories of his childhood summers spent in Brighton with his brother and father. His mother had possessed lovely blue eyes, or at least he’d been told, too young to remember her before she passed away. Lost in the memory, he startled when the lady interrupted curtly.
“Your building?” She tilted her chin and nodded to the left. “This building here?”
An unexplainable ill ease crawled over his skin, warning he’d mis-stepped in an assortment of ways, but remained powerless to retract his initial bluster. It didn’t help that the accompanying aggregation had inched closer as the discussion evolved, while Randolph, his only reinforcement, had retreated to the shade of a nearby awning.
“Inventive Investment.” He stood firm. “It’s my business you and your companions have obstructed.”
One of her narrow brows winged high as he completed his sentence. Funny, how she expressed a plethora of emotion with the delicate movement.
“Ladies, I believe we’ve discovered our building mate.” She offered a slight scan over each shoulder before bringing her azure gaze to rest on his face. “I could be mistaken—”
Her flippant tone assured she knew better, yet her voice held a silky note that resonated inside him, akin to the pounding of his heart in his chest, where it remained for a spell before arrowing straight to his groin, no matter she’d insulted him.
“But this walkway does not belong to any single pedestrian.” She continued her harangue, her shoulders held in obdurate erectility, her didactic tone self-assured. “Our league has leased the office above yours and we’re gathering for a celebratory meeting. We assemble bi-weekly, except for special occasions, such as this, when we may congregate more often.”
He regretted the word for the hundredth time.
“I feel no need to explain my actions to you, Sir…” She said the word as if spitting poison from her tongue. “Other than to make it implicitly understood no such conversation will occur in the future.”
She finished with her hands on her hips and a tight-lipped tolerant smile that somehow expressed she thought him a goose-cap. She couldn’t be taller than five foot five, yet it felt as if she looked down on all six feet of him. He straightened his shoulders for the second time.
The ladies appeared on pins and needles in wait of his response. Randolph was nowhere to be found and Jasper defaulted to manners, no matter he’d acted the bore and rudely dismissed the ladies and their league without consideration of the actual situation or their gentle sensibilities. He’d worried over harridans and misguided dowagers, but how he’d miscalculated.
Before him stood a perfect combination of stern reprimand and untouched beauty as rare as the blue of her eyes. Fresh blooms of pale rose colored her cheeks as she berated and belittled him and yet he could only think of how pretty she appeared; the shade suiting her from the tip of her elaborate bonnet to the hems of her silk gown.
“Jasper St. David.” He didn’t know what else to say. “I believe we’ve a misunderstanding.” He swallowed audibly and waited.
“Miss Shaw.”
She extended her gloved hand to initiate a handshake, but still dumbfounded by the recent interaction, he stood immobile. After a moment, she withdrew and treated him to a firm smile that pulled him further into distraction. Damn his downfall, a pretty woman forever made him lose his purpose.
“Now that, ladies, is how it’s done.” She brushed past him and continued to the secondary door that led to the shared stairs and on to the upper floor. Removing a key from her reticule, she inserted it in the lock and with a flick of her wrist, drew the door wide so her companions could pass. “Remember, gentlemen feel entitled to as much as we allow…” She offered one last glance in his direction. “Including the public sidewalk.”
Then in a twirl of her skirts she followed the others up the stairwell and out of sight.
“What the hell happened?” He said the words aloud, but it was more to gain clarity than in expectation of an answer. Randolph’s prompt reply issued him another jolt.
“You’ve just experienced the verbal equivalent of having your cork drawn. If she were a he your nose would be bleeding.” A guffaw followed this observation and then Randolph sobered, the obvious taking hold.
“I’ve made a muck of things.” Jasper raised his eyes to the upstairs office. “I’d imagine the ladies are enjoying a good laugh at my expense.” His lament was overrun by the traffic of the noisy street. Little by little, London returned although he believed he’d never be the same again.
“Need I remind you to focus, my friend.” Randolph leaned a bit closer as if imparting a precious secret. “If we’re to make a go of this business venture, you’ll need to come up to scratch.”
Upstairs, the mood couldn’t be more convivial. Emily showed the ladies the two-room space before they moved to stand near the front window, watching the pedestrian flow and making plans for curtains and furnishings. Suggestions flourished, tinged with anticipation and excitement. It seemed too good to be true, their little league gaining legitimacy and attention with this leased location. Yet it didn’t take long before conversation took a decided turn.
“He’s terribly handsome. Mr. St. David, I mean. Don’t you agree?” Cynthia cooed the question, willing anyone to answer. She peered out the front window and angled her view downward as if she could see inside the office below. “You spoke to him directly, Emily. What color are his eyes?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was too busy organizing my thoughts to note such triviality.” Green. His eyes were a lovely shade of green with little flecks of gold around the edges. Remembering the hue and sparkle caused an unexpected flutter in her belly.
“I noticed,” Margery piped up. “I stood behind him at first. His height and broad shoulders were impossible to ignore as they obscured my view entirely. But when I drew nearer, I noticed his eyes, his hair, were the warmest shade. It was difficult to follow the discussion after that.”
“Ladies,” Emily admonished although she’d observed the same. His hair was thick and wavy and in want of a good comb through for no other reason than the desire to feel the silky strands slip between her fingers. As they’d argued, an unruly lock had fallen across his brow. It lay against his skin above his right eye the entire time they’d spoken and the desire to reach up and tuck it back into place had made her fingers itchy inside her gloves. And those impossibly long lashes. She doubted the ladies saw the glimpse of a dimple in his right cheek. The memory caused her heart to beat a little faster. A handsome devil…but no, none of those observations mattered. Noticing these little qualities led to interest, and interest led to a large assortment of disasters all of which ensured her doom. Whatsoever was she thinking? She’d need to heed her own advice and avoid the entrapment of a gentleman’s charms.
“Mr. St. David may think he can tell us where to stand and what to do, but like most male assumptions concerning women, he’s wrong. His berating is exactly why I formed the League of Virtuous Equality. Would he have approached a group of men with the same attitude?” She didn’t pause long enough for an answer even though Prudence raised her hand to speak. “Absolutely not. He assumed we were a bunch of twittering chatterboxes who clogged up the sidewalk and waned with befuddlement because we couldn’t find our way to the tea shop. Take note and learn a lesson today—” Everyone’s head nodded, although Cynthia had a faraway look about her. “No matter how handsome, how clever or charming,