Page 15 of Almost A Scoundrel

When her eyes narrowed on him, Deerhurst almost laughed.

“Of course,” she said, sounding offended. “I get the point. I shall look the word up myself.”

“Books are the best tutors.” He should leave it there. He didn’t. “Better yet, a husband, although that doesn’t count for you as you don’t plan to take one.”

“Are those my only options? Books or a husband?”

Deerhurst doubted Lady Phaedra understood the significance of her question. She had plenty of other options—none respectable. He sensed the woman before him would be enthralled rather than shocked, but he had to draw a line somewhere. Putting forth a roadmap that could lead a lady onto the path of debauchery was out of the question.

“Those are the only two that will keep you from ruin.”

“How unfortunate.”

Deerhurst furrowed his brows. Disappointment laced her voice, and it was all he could do not to kiss her then and there. He couldn’t help his eyes from sliding again to her lips—it was becoming a damn obsession—surveying the tempting curve of her mouth.

He looked away.

He should never have kissed her. Now he knew her taste. Which made him want to kiss her again.

And never stop.

It was madness.

Burning idiocy.

He felt like he was perilously hurtling toward a collision, and he could no more stop the impact than he could turn back time and undo the chaos that one lapse in judgment had caused. And now, because of the blasted list, he couldn’t steer clear of temptation. He had to make things right. He had to protect her from this mess until the dust settled.

Ridiculous amounts of blunt had been wagered on Lady Phaedra’s name. It made Deerhurst uneasy. Some men would go to horrid lengths to get their grubby hands on that sort of coin. They would put their hands onher.

Because of him, she might get caught in a trap she seemed very determined to avoid. He may as well have put a death sentence on her dreams. This was why Deerhurst had approached her today. He would do anything in his power to protect her. His honor demanded it. He just had to do itwhilekeeping a fair and safe distance from the temptation she presented. Which meant no touching. Not in any way, shape, or form.

Rhodes appeared. “The carriage is ready, my lord.”

Deerhurst nodded and offered his arm to Lady Phaedra. “Ready?”

“Are you?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Always.”

Not even a little bit.

Chapter Four

Phaedra squinted throughthe window of Deerhurst’s carriage as she took in the scene playing out in her drawing room. She wanted to experience firsthand the view Deerhurst had told her about, so she had convinced him to give her a moment to observe her house as an outsider. She had never given any thought to what a curious passerby would witness when they took the time to peek through the large window. Did people even peek through windows? Well, she supposed there were a lot of people that would. But an earl?Deerhurst?Every time she met him her view of him tilted a bit more. Not exactly a bad thing, and not exactly a great thing either. The more her view changed, the more her curiosity bloomed.

Lud, Deerhurst had not been jesting.

Three men stood in conversation near the window while six others were seated in various spots sipping tea. Some were inspecting the artwork on the walls while the rest just hung patiently about. Every now and then the gentlemen cast an expectant glance at the door.

The red hue of her mother’s dress appeared particularly vibrant, and Phaedra watched as the countess laughed at something the gentleman to her right said.

It felt to Phaedra as if she were a spectator looking in on a stranger’s life. She thought of all the timesshehad been in that drawing room receiving callers. Besides the pistol incident, she once spilled hot tea over a suitor’s breeches, threw a sandwich in a baron’s face, and feigned casting up her accounts, which led to a viscount dashing from the room in a panic. And that was just off the top of her head.

How many of those little theatrics had Deerhurst glimpsed over time? As for the kissing and carnal part—she made a mental note to look the word up later—she simply could not imagine anything intimate occurring in a drawing room.

“See something of interest?” Deerhurst asked across from her.

She shook her head. “How queer to catch a glimpse of my life like this.”