Page 30 of The Language of Love

“Did you get your love of language from your father?” he asked.

“Yes. But how did you know?”

“At Lady Sedgwick’s you mentioned that he’d taught you several languages.”

“Oh. Yes, my father is the one who taught me to love words of all languages. I know it sounds silly, but we used to quiz each other about idioms.”

“It doesn’t sound silly,” he said. “But it does sound like a game you will always win whenever we play it.”

His words were innocent, but the look that accompanied them was slyly wicked.

“Well?” he prodded.

“Hmm?”

“Burning the candle at both ends?”

“As it happens, I do know that one. It is French—Brusler la chandelle par les deux bouts. It initially meant to be wasteful or spendthrift but has gradually come to mean engaging in exhausting activity, or—”

A familiar face appeared over Mr. Parker’s shoulder.

“Miles!”

Mr. Parker jolted at her unladylike outburst and turned to see who she was looking at.

“Annis!” Miles teased as he stretched his hands toward her.

As usual, every woman in the vicinity followed Miles with their eyes. And then darted envious looks in Annis’s direction to see who had captured his attention.

He pulled her close enough for a kiss on the cheek. “Hallo, darling. You’re looking beautiful this evening.”

Annis flushed at his kind lie. “And you look every inch an earl, Miles.” That, too, was a fib. Her friend still wore the same suit of evening clothes he’d used when he’d been a dancing master. Not that clothing mattered with a man as perfect as Miles.

Annis turned to Mr. Parker, whose face had taken on a sullen cast. “Mr. Parker, I would like to introduce you to my dear friend, the Earl of Avington. Miles, this is Mr. Parker, a good friend to the Earl of Rotherhithe.”

Miles gave the scowling man an affable smile. “Ah, yes, you’ve just arrived from India. I’ll wager you are wishing the miserable English drizzle of the past few days to the devil.”

Mr. Parker thawed a little under Miles’s friendly manner. “The gray skies are daunting but at least you don’t have poisonous reptiles or insects.”

“True, but we do have some other creatures that have quite a nasty sting.” He nodded at the dense cluster of mamas not far away, all of whom were casting appraising glances in his direction.

Mr. Parker grinned at Miles’s not-so-subtle comment. “Nothing fatal, I hope?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Miles murmured, pulling his gaze away from the clutch of watchful women. “So, will you be staying in England long, Mr. Parker?”

“Indefinitely.”

“The earl, too?”

“Yes, his lordship sold his textile business to his partner and has no plans to return.”

“Ah, well, that was probably wise. I understand the Charter Act of 1813 made things tough on anyone not in the tea or opium trade.”

Mr. Parker looked startled. “Yes—yes, it caused some problems.”

Annis smiled at the gleam of respect in his eyes. Like most people, Mr. Parker had probably underestimated Miles, believing that such a beautiful man must be empty-headed and decorative.

“Well, you are both intrepid to plunge into the Season when it is in full clip,” Miles said, glancing around him with a look of mild distaste.