A Lady's Guide to Improper Behavior by Suzanne Enoch Page A

sense. You don’t have the sense God gave a kitten.”
    She frowned again, brushing past him as they reached the landing and retrieving his cane before he could regret his short-sighted rejection of her assistance. Clutching it, she proceeded down the remainder of the stairs to wait at the bottom.
    “What, no response to that?” he jibed, a little out of breath as he hitched himself down toward her.
    “Is it my lack of sense or the grayness of my eyes this evening that compelled you to kiss me, then? Or was it perhaps your parting from the imaginary woman with whom you claimed to be living?” she retorted, glaring up at him.
    That compelling mouth of his twitched before it dove back into a scowl. “The eye color.”
    “Oh, really?”
    “Yes. I’m partial to gray.”
    “Mmm-hmm.”
    She didn’t believe that, of course. It was entirely possible, however, that he was as mystified by his attraction to her as she was by the effect he had on her. No good would come of it; Colonel Tolly James was an angry, defensive man who’d in three seconds gone from nearly striking her to kissing her. But something had kept her thinking about him for the past two days, even while she danced and drove and rode and chatted with a half dozen other gentlemen who’d already made their intentions toward her very clear, and who knew how to behave themselves.
    When he finally reached the level floor just outside the kitchen, she held out his cane to him. “Thank you,” he said, not sounding grateful at all. “And don’t ask me to dance with you tonight. We both know that that’s an impossibility. Nor is it particularly amusing.”
    “I have no intention of asking you to dance,” she said, falling in beside him as they left the house through the servants’ entrance and slowly made their way up the carriage drive to the front of the house. “From now on you will have to ask me to dance.”
    “I will not do that.”
    With a quick smile she left his side and climbed into her brother’s carriage. “Yes, you will,” she returned, leaning out again. “I’ll save you a place on my dance card.”

Chapter Six
    “A young lady should be sensible and serene, and if lucky will find herself attended by a man of similar temperament. If she is very lucky, he will also be possessed of passion and wealth. But of the three, I must rank passion last. Passion does not pay the bills.”
    A L ADY’S G UIDE TO P ROPER B EHAVIOR
    I ’m so pleased you’re living at James House again,” Violet gushed, taking the chair beside Tolly’s and grabbing his right hand in both of hers. “I’ve missed you terribly, you know.”
    “You’ve only seen me for two months or so every two or three years as it is, Vi,” he returned, freeing his hand as swiftly as he could do so without dumping her off the chair in the middle of the damned Ridgemont ballroom.
    “Yes, but you always stayed with us the entire time you were on leave. This time we had to come to London just to find you, and then you still wouldn’t come near us.”
    What could he tell her about that? That he’d becomemore comfortable among strangers he could watch with suspicion than with friends and family he was expected to trust? Trust . That word had certainly taken on new significance in the past year.
    Of course his obsession with that word in no way explained his immediate fascination with Theresa Weller. Even with his gaze on his sister he knew precisely where Tess was in the large ballroom, and with whom she was dancing—currently stocky, round Francis Henning. Apparently she enjoyed dancing so much that she would partner with anyone.
    Except him. He shifted a little, though it had been months since he’d found something close to a comfortable position. Bartholomew glanced at the dance floor again, catching a glimpse of violet gown and hair the color of morning sunshine.
    “Stephen’s letter said he met Amelia at the Hutchings recital last year,” he commented, making a final