Read Love and Honor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 7 for Free Online

your mother he’d send you to that finishing school in Switzerland, and—”
    “Well, there’s nothing wrong with my just dancing with him tonight,” Marilee told her petulantly. Then she added wistfully, “If he asks me.”
    Kit snorted with unladylike disdain. “Honestly, Marilee, why would you even want to be seen with a man of his reputation?”
    “What reputation?” Marilee demanded “He wouldn’t be invited to the embassy ball if he wasn’t somebody important.”
    “I’m talking about his reputation where women are concerned. Don’t you have any pride?”
    With haughty indignation, Marilee challenged, “How would you know? Have you met him?”
    “I wouldn’t know him if I saw him,” Kit was quick to inform her. “I just know what I’ve heard.”
    “Then you really don’t know anything about him except gossip, and that’s not fair!” Marilee declared, settling back against the seat and folding her arms across her bosom.
    Kit said nothing more. She was reflecting on the intimate talks she and Carasia sometimes had, sharing their personal feelings about life and love. It had been Carasia who had told her about the enigmatic Señor Tanner, and how it was said that he was so fascinating and exciting that any woman who had ever known him whispered his name into her pillow with longing at night…and fantasized about him when other men held her. At the time, she and Carasia had wickedly and deliciously pondered what it could be about him that cast such a spell over women, but, of course, Kit would never admit to such nonsense.
    After they had a quick lunch, Kitty led the way down a narrow, cobblestoned street, away from the main shopping district. They would have just enough time to buy everything they needed before the afternoon siesta began and all the stores closed for a few hours.
    The Casa del Pasion was down a flight of steps, its glass window just visible from the sidewalk. The instant they entered, an elegantly dressed woman rushed from behind a velvet curtain at the rear to meet them. “ Madame Coltrane! Welcome. And these are your granddaughters?” She clapped her hands together in delight. “I don’t believe it! My mother was right when she said you are beautiful. I cannot believe you are old enough to have grandchildren!”
    Kitty smiled indulgently, for she was accustomed to being flattered and fawned over, as the Coltranes were known and respected internationally. She introduced Kit and Marilee, explaining to them that she had called earlier to say they were coming. Then, patting Kit’s shoulder, she instructed Mademoiselle Delacorte, “Now, make this young lady bewitching, beguiling, and even more beautiful than she already is.”
    “Ah, but you have given me an impossible task, madame , because how can one improve on perfection? But I shall try, and—” she winked conspiratorially, “—I think I have just what you might be looking for—a new creation by Paul Poiret that arrived only last week. If,” she challenged Kit, “you are daring enough to wear it.”
    Kit asked to see the gown, fighting the impulse to say that she was willing to wear anything to make her own personal declaration of independence to her mother.
    Mademoiselle Delacorte went back behind the curtain and returned a few moments later looking quite pleased as she held up a sensuous creation of black velvet. Poiret had revived the empire style by wrapping a band of gold cording just beneath the bosom, but that was not all. A daring slit went from floor to upper thigh; Kit’s leg would be exposed when she walked or danced. She’d heard about these new sheathlike dresses with slits that were declared indecent by bishops and ministers.
    Marilee stared at the dress for a moment, then cried, “Oh, Kit, it’s gorgeous…but do you dare?”
    Kit looked at her grandmother. There was no mistaking the approving gleam in her eyes. “I’ll try it on,” Kit said tonelessly, trying to hide her own