Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress (45 page)

“Excellent idea.”

The men had drunk their wine and run through a number of improbable theories about the uninvited guest before Ariel at last returned. They sprang up when she entered the room, and James opened his mouth to ask a question. Then he caught sight of the figure behind her.

His brother's wife was a lovely woman—small and curvy, with glossy brown hair, skin like ripe peaches, and entrancing hazel eyes. But this newcomer very nearly cast her in the shade. She was certainly a far different, far more unusual type.

The cascade of jet-black hair had been tied back with a blue ribbon. It tumbled down the back of a simple blue gown, one of Ariel's, James assumed, and framed an absolutely exquisite face. Broad forehead, jutting cheekbones, a pointed chin, full lips pink as rose petals, skin the color of honey. Huge dark eyes with sooty lashes stared at him, burning with the fire of an avenging angel. No wonder she'd smudged herself with dirt and hid her features with a scarf and cap. She'd have been mobbed otherwise, and God knew what else.

“This is Kawena,” said Ariel.

James realized his mouth was hanging open. He closed it.

“I promised that she would have the chance to tell her story,” his brother's wife went on. “She believes that James—”

“He killed my father!” the girl interrupted.

“That's rot,” said James. “I've never killed any…or…was he a French sailor?”

“No! My father was an English gentleman!” She glared at him.

“Then I didn't kill him. Unless he'd signed onto one of Boney's fighting ships. And if he did, then he deserved…”

“You stole everything he had and broke his spirit so that he died,” Kawena accused.

“I did no such thing.” James had never been more certain. “You have the wrong man.”

“Liar!”

It seemed as if she would fly at him again. Who would think that dark eyes could burn like that?

“We're getting nowhere,” said Alan, with a crisp authority that made Ariel smile. “We must begin at the beginning if we are to untangle this riddle. You…Miss…Kawena, sit there.” He pointed to the sofa. “James, over there.” He indicated an armchair well out of reach, then drew Ariel to a pair of seats between them. “Now, give us your tale.”

“It's not a ‘tale,'” the girl responded. “It's the truth!”

“He only meant your story,” Ariel put in. “What happened to bring you here?”

Order Jane Ashford's next book
in The Duke's Sons series

What the Duke Doesn't Know

On sale September 2016

About the Author

Jane Ashford discovered Georgette Heyer in junior high school and was captivated by the glittering world and witty language of Regency England. That delight was part of what led her to study English literature and travel widely in Britain and Europe. She has written historical and contemporary romances, and her books have been published in Sweden, Italy, England, Denmark, France, Russia, Latvia, the Czech Republic, and Spain, as well as the U.S. Jane has been nominated for a Career Achievement Award by
RT Book Reviews
.

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