Ten Ways to Be Adored When Landing a Lord
Page 24
Desire moved him forward.
He reached for her, one hand nearly brushing her cheek before he realized the mistake that touching her would be. He took in her wide brown eyes, rich and liquid with emotion, a heady mix of curiosity and excitement and fear that brightened her whole face, turning her into an innocent siren—flesh and blood, surrounded by her marble sisters.
Isabel closed her eyes against his nearness, and he considered her lovely face—high, strong cheekbones, lush mouth, brow clear of worry. Her beauty was generous when it had time to be.
She released the breath she had been holding in a rattling, unsteady sound, and her lips parted, marking the moment with an elegant pink sigh.
There wasn’t a man on earth who could resist that sigh.
He leaned in, even as he knew it was wrong.
Nothing good could come of kissing this innocent country miss.
His lips were a hairsbreadth from hers when the sound came from outside the room.
He snapped back, straightening, and cursed briefly under his breath. He took a long step back, immediately wishing he had not gone anywhere near this woman, who seemed to have an inexplicable negative effect on his good sense.
Her eyes flew open, a mix of emotions in their depths, and for a moment, he wanted nothing but to pull her into his arms and damn everyone else.
And then Miss Caldwell and Rock returned and Nick was too busy moving to place a safe distance between him and Isabel, who pressed herself into the statue of Voluptas so firmly that Nick worried, fleetingly, if she might push the thing off its pedestal.
That certainly would distract from their activities.
“What did you find?” Nick asked, hoping to cover the energy that remained between them.
Rock looked from Nick to Isabel, then back again. One dark brow rose. Nick matched it, daring the Turk to draw attention to the situation inside the room.
After a pause, Rock spoke. “I’ve not seen anything like it outside of Greece.” He went on to describe the scope of the marbles in the second room, and Nick watched from the corner of his eye as Lara crossed to her cousin. Isabel smiled a too-bright smile, one that betrayed everything.
She had wanted him.
He shook himself from the thought. He should be grateful for the interruption that prevented the immense mistake that kiss would have been. This girl was everything he did not seek out in his women. She was innocent and alone and precisely the kind of female he avoided—the kind who would want more from him than he was able to give. He’d wager she’d barely ever been satisfactorily kissed, out here in the countryside with no one but the stable boys to toy with.
He did not deny that he would very much like to show Isabel how satisfying kissing could be.
“You owe me ten pounds.”
Rock’s words pulled Nick back to the present.
The collection was real. Its owner, a mystery.
They were staying.
Ignoring his friend’s smirk, Nick slid his gaze back to Isabel, who was watching them, curiosity in her eyes. When she noticed his attention, she blushed, patting her hair nervously.
“Lady Isabel,” he said, enjoying the sound of her name on his tongue. “If it suits you, we will begin our work on the collection tomorrow morning.”
He saw the uncertainty in her eyes, followed immediately by the recognition that she had taken them too far down this particular path to turn him away.
She patted her hair in a movement that he was quickly coming to recognize as nerves. “By all means. Tomorrow would be … fine.” She edged around them, heading for the door. “And … Lara will see you out today … I am … I must …” She paused, and Nick waited, a half smile on his face, for her to finish. “I must go.”
And she was gone, the skirts of her drab gray dress the last thing he saw as she fled the room.
Six
Lesson Number Two
Do your best to remain in your lord’s mind. And in his eye.
While absence may make the heart grow fonder, only nearness will result in a sound match. Remember, if your lord is to recognize his desire for a wife, he must be reminded of the existence of such a woman! Do your best to stay in his sight; pass near to him at balls; learn his preferences for promenading in the park; and encourage your servants to befriend his own. Knowledge of his schedule is the very best tool for ensnaring a true gentleman.
Pearls and Pelisses
June 1823
Wellington might have said that the hardest thing of all for a soldier was to retreat, but that course of action was far easier for Isabel than remaining in the statuary—and in the company of Lord Nicholas St. John.
Indeed, she had escaped the room at as near to a run as a lady could reasonably get.
At least, a lady in full mourning attire.
She’d wanted him to kiss her.
Quite desperately.
Which would have been a mistake of mythic proportions.
Thank goodness for Lara and Mr. Durukhan, or who knew what might have happened.
What, indeed.
Isabel hurried through the maze of servants’ passages that led to the kitchen of Townsend Park, knowing that she was in the middle of, quite possibly, the most craven afternoon of her life.
But what other choice had she had? She’d had to leave the room, to clear her mind, to … chastise herself.
What had she been thinking?
Inviting a strange man into Minerva House was one thing—one very unintelligent, risky thing. But allowing herself to consider him anything more than a means to a vital and important end? That was unacceptable.
She needed Nicholas St. John to value her marbles and to see them sold. No more.
If a lifetime around men and the women who were hurt by them had taught Isabel anything, it was that they were not to be trifled with. She’d seen enough women ruined by their hearts and their bodies, enough women—her own mother—fall victim to charming smiles and compelling touches. And she had vowed never to let it happen to her.
He reached for her, one hand nearly brushing her cheek before he realized the mistake that touching her would be. He took in her wide brown eyes, rich and liquid with emotion, a heady mix of curiosity and excitement and fear that brightened her whole face, turning her into an innocent siren—flesh and blood, surrounded by her marble sisters.
Isabel closed her eyes against his nearness, and he considered her lovely face—high, strong cheekbones, lush mouth, brow clear of worry. Her beauty was generous when it had time to be.
She released the breath she had been holding in a rattling, unsteady sound, and her lips parted, marking the moment with an elegant pink sigh.
There wasn’t a man on earth who could resist that sigh.
He leaned in, even as he knew it was wrong.
Nothing good could come of kissing this innocent country miss.
His lips were a hairsbreadth from hers when the sound came from outside the room.
He snapped back, straightening, and cursed briefly under his breath. He took a long step back, immediately wishing he had not gone anywhere near this woman, who seemed to have an inexplicable negative effect on his good sense.
Her eyes flew open, a mix of emotions in their depths, and for a moment, he wanted nothing but to pull her into his arms and damn everyone else.
And then Miss Caldwell and Rock returned and Nick was too busy moving to place a safe distance between him and Isabel, who pressed herself into the statue of Voluptas so firmly that Nick worried, fleetingly, if she might push the thing off its pedestal.
That certainly would distract from their activities.
“What did you find?” Nick asked, hoping to cover the energy that remained between them.
Rock looked from Nick to Isabel, then back again. One dark brow rose. Nick matched it, daring the Turk to draw attention to the situation inside the room.
After a pause, Rock spoke. “I’ve not seen anything like it outside of Greece.” He went on to describe the scope of the marbles in the second room, and Nick watched from the corner of his eye as Lara crossed to her cousin. Isabel smiled a too-bright smile, one that betrayed everything.
She had wanted him.
He shook himself from the thought. He should be grateful for the interruption that prevented the immense mistake that kiss would have been. This girl was everything he did not seek out in his women. She was innocent and alone and precisely the kind of female he avoided—the kind who would want more from him than he was able to give. He’d wager she’d barely ever been satisfactorily kissed, out here in the countryside with no one but the stable boys to toy with.
He did not deny that he would very much like to show Isabel how satisfying kissing could be.
“You owe me ten pounds.”
Rock’s words pulled Nick back to the present.
The collection was real. Its owner, a mystery.
They were staying.
Ignoring his friend’s smirk, Nick slid his gaze back to Isabel, who was watching them, curiosity in her eyes. When she noticed his attention, she blushed, patting her hair nervously.
“Lady Isabel,” he said, enjoying the sound of her name on his tongue. “If it suits you, we will begin our work on the collection tomorrow morning.”
He saw the uncertainty in her eyes, followed immediately by the recognition that she had taken them too far down this particular path to turn him away.
She patted her hair in a movement that he was quickly coming to recognize as nerves. “By all means. Tomorrow would be … fine.” She edged around them, heading for the door. “And … Lara will see you out today … I am … I must …” She paused, and Nick waited, a half smile on his face, for her to finish. “I must go.”
And she was gone, the skirts of her drab gray dress the last thing he saw as she fled the room.
Six
Lesson Number Two
Do your best to remain in your lord’s mind. And in his eye.
While absence may make the heart grow fonder, only nearness will result in a sound match. Remember, if your lord is to recognize his desire for a wife, he must be reminded of the existence of such a woman! Do your best to stay in his sight; pass near to him at balls; learn his preferences for promenading in the park; and encourage your servants to befriend his own. Knowledge of his schedule is the very best tool for ensnaring a true gentleman.
Pearls and Pelisses
June 1823
Wellington might have said that the hardest thing of all for a soldier was to retreat, but that course of action was far easier for Isabel than remaining in the statuary—and in the company of Lord Nicholas St. John.
Indeed, she had escaped the room at as near to a run as a lady could reasonably get.
At least, a lady in full mourning attire.
She’d wanted him to kiss her.
Quite desperately.
Which would have been a mistake of mythic proportions.
Thank goodness for Lara and Mr. Durukhan, or who knew what might have happened.
What, indeed.
Isabel hurried through the maze of servants’ passages that led to the kitchen of Townsend Park, knowing that she was in the middle of, quite possibly, the most craven afternoon of her life.
But what other choice had she had? She’d had to leave the room, to clear her mind, to … chastise herself.
What had she been thinking?
Inviting a strange man into Minerva House was one thing—one very unintelligent, risky thing. But allowing herself to consider him anything more than a means to a vital and important end? That was unacceptable.
She needed Nicholas St. John to value her marbles and to see them sold. No more.
If a lifetime around men and the women who were hurt by them had taught Isabel anything, it was that they were not to be trifled with. She’d seen enough women ruined by their hearts and their bodies, enough women—her own mother—fall victim to charming smiles and compelling touches. And she had vowed never to let it happen to her.
