Timeless Read Online Free Page A

liked—his new claviger needed training—and his hair was slightly mussed. His hair was
always
slightly mussed these days despite liberal application of Bond Street’s best pomade. One, apparently, had to bear up under such tribulations when one was a werewolf.
    Felicity Loontwill entered the shop and wafted over to him in a flutter of raspberry taffeta and a great show of cordiality. She smelled of too much rose water and too little sleep. Her dress was very French, her hair was very German, and her shoes were quite definitely Italian. He could detect the odor of fish oil.
    “Mr. Rabiffano, I was so hoping you would be here. And Madame Lefoux, how unexpectedly delightful!”
    “Why, Miss Loontwill, back from your European tour already?” Biffy didn’t like Lady Maccon’s sister. She was the type of girl who would show her neck to a vampire one moment and her ankle to a chimney sweep the next.
    “Yes. And what a bother it was. Two years abroad with absolutely nothing to show for it.”
    “No delusional Italian count or French marquis fell in love with you? Shocking.” Madame Lefoux’s green eyes twinkled.
    The door jingled again and Mrs. Loontwill and Lady Evelyn Mongtwee entered the shop. Lady Evelyn headed immediately toward a spectacular hat of chartreuse and crimson, while Mrs. Loontwill followed her other daughter up to the counter.
    “Oh, Mama, do you remember Mr. Rabiffano? He belongs to our dear Alexia’s household.”
    Mrs. Loontwill looked at the dandy suspiciously. “Oh, does he, indeed? A pleasure to meet you, I’m sure. Come away, Felicity.”
    Mrs. Loontwill didn’t even glance in Madame Lefoux’s direction.
    The three ladies then gave their undivided attention to the hats while Biffy tried to comprehend what they were about.
    Madame Lefoux voiced his thoughts. “Do you think they are actually here to shop?”
    “I believe Lady Maccon is not receiving them at present, so they may be after information.” He looked suspiciously at the Frenchwoman. “Now that Felicity has returned, will she be rejoining the Woolsey Hive?”
    Madame Lefoux shrugged. “I don’t know, but I shouldn’t think so. I can’t imagine it holds much appeal, now that the hive is located outside London. You know these society chits—only interested in the glamorous side of immortality. She may find herself another hive. Or a husband, of course.”
    At which juncture Felicity returned to them, in clear defiance of her mother’s wishes. “Mr. Rabiffano, how is my
dear
sister? I can hardly believe how long it has been since I saw her last.”
    “She is well,” replied Biffy, utterly passive.
    “And that child of hers? My darling little niece?”
    Her face sharpened when she was being nosy, noted Biffy, rather like that of an inquisitive trout. “She, too, is well.”
    “And how is Lord Maccon? Still doting upon them both?”
    “Still, as you say, doting.”
    “Why, Mr. Rabiffano, you have grown so dreary and terse since your accident.”
    With a twinkle to his eye, the dandy gestured at the little gold straw bonnet. “What do you think of this one, Miss Loontwill? It is very subtle and sophisticated.”
    Felicity backed away hurriedly. “Oh, no, mine is too bold a beauty for anything so insipid.” She turned away. “Mama, Evy, have you seen anything to your taste?”
    “Not tonight, my dear.”
    “No, sister, although that green and red toque makes quite the statement.”
    Felicity looked back at Madame Lefoux, on point. “How unfortunate that you are no longer in charge here, madame. I do believe that the quality may have fallen.”
    Madame Lefoux said nothing and Biffy took the hit without flinching.
    “Do, please, give my sister and her husband my best regards. I do hope they remain blissfully enamored of one another, although it is terribly embarrassing.” Felicity whirled to the French inventor. “And give the countess my compliments as well, of course.”
    With that, the rose-scented blonde led