Page 22 of Entertaining the Earl (Vows in Vauxhall Gardens #2)
C olin ran a hand through his hair, feeling a little groggy.
He had closed his eyes for a moment, even though he did not feel ready for bed, and when he had opened them, she had had been standing there.
And then she had hummed that tune, and so many memories had come flooding back.
Memories of his Mama, and the love she showed him, and how she cared for him.
Memories of how his father never made her happy, in spite of all her efforts to make sure the household ran smoothly and that he was never burdened.
Belatedly, he realized that he had not stood up when Miss Lyttleton had entered the room, and that they were alone again, in the very same place where that kiss had occurred.
The kiss that shouldn’t have happened.
The kiss that had been on his mind far more often than he would ever admit.
“It’s very late,” he said, feeling like he needed to remind himself what was expected of him. He was an earl, and she was a gentleman’s daughter, and it was not a good idea for him to forget it.
She was still dressed in the simple pink dress she had worn for dinner, her glossy brown hair plaited down her back.
Her honey-amber eyes glinted in the firelight, and he was overwhelmed with the desire to kiss her again, and he knew his heart—and somewhere rather south of his heart—was in danger of overruling his head .
This was a very bad idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that.
“I know,” she said, taking another step towards him. “But I find I am not tired.”
He swallowed, and his gaze wandered down her pale neck, to the neckline of her dress, which just hinted at the creamy breasts beneath.
When she had been in here in her nightdress, much more of her had been on display, and yet he found himself just as attracted to her now, in her plain dress—a dress he was sure was one of her older ones, for it did not have the lower neckline of her newer acquisitions.
His mind was wandering further into dangerous territory still, and yet he could not stop it.
“If you want to sit, for a while,” he said, gesturing to the empty chair in front of him. “And read, or talk…the fire is still warm.”
She didn’t hesitate to take the seat before him. Her knees were mere inches away from his, and she had no book to read, although she did have a piece of parchment clutched in her fingertips.
“A letter from a paramour?” he asked with a glance towards it.
She laughed. “That seems rather unlikely.”
He frowned. “You do yourself a disservice. There is no reason, Miss Lyttleton, why you should not attract a good husband.”
“I have not so far,” she said softly, but without bitterness. Indeed, she sounded almost bored by the topic. Perhaps she was, for her parents, at least, seemed to harp on the topic almost ceaselessly. “And I regularly hear reasons why I won’t, or will never. From many speakers.”
Colin thought back to the cruel gossips in the ballroom.
“People are fools.”
She shrugged, a gesture which was unladylike and casual—something of which he was sure her mother would disapprove. But it showed him she felt comfortable in his presence, something that warmed his heart. “Father believes someone will take me for my dowry.”
“Yes, it might be an incentive,” Colin agreed. “But I am confident, Miss Lyttleton—”
“Susannah,” she interrupted, biting her lip immediately after as if the word had slipped out without her intent.
“Susannah,” he repeated, the word feeling forbidden on his lips, and yet, so right.
“I am confident, Susannah, that when the right man takes the time to speak with you, to get to know you, there will be no need of a large dowry to sway him. You…” He bit his lip.
Good Lord, he’d nearly told her that while she was perhaps not conventionally pretty, he found her attractive, and even admitted that she cast some spell on him that he did not understand and could not escape.
It was as if he had spoken the words aloud, for her cheeks flushed red, and she glanced to the floor. Her fingers appeared to clasp tighter around the piece of parchment.
“So if it is not a letter from a love-sick gentleman, what is it that you hold on to so tightly?” he asked, reaching out to touch the parchment, to illustrate his point, to perhaps brush his fingers against hers…
She pulled back quickly, her head snapping up and her eyes meeting his and her cheeks turning even redder, if such a thing were possible. “Nothing.”
Now his curiosity was certainly piqued. “Nothing?”
“It’s…” She looked into the fire, and then back at him. “Nothing I wish to share.”
He nodded, and then leant back in his chair. “Your father asked me about my intentions toward you,” he said, changing the subject entirely.
Her eyes widened, and he wondered if she was thinking the same as he had when Mr. Lyttleton had cornered him—that he knew about the kiss.
“He has heard of my plans to leave before the Season is over, and was concerned I might damage your reputation, since it has become clear we have an…attachment.”
The attachment was false, and so there was no reason for Colin to feel as awkward as he did. mentioning it.
“Ah,” she said, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Colin’s body responded to her innocent action, and he shifted in the chair. “Well. I’m glad he is concerned…I suppose we do need a plausible story for the reason for our courtship has come to an end. When it does.”
“I am happy to be entirely the party at fault,” he said. “Perhaps…my constant discussion of my travels bored you to tears. Or you found me too vain to take seriously. Or my behavior was uncouth, due to me living abroad for so many years…”
She laughed softly and leaned forward. “I don’t know if those lies will convince anyone who has met you this Season, Lord Bourne.”
“Colin.” She had, after all, told him to use her Christian name, and so it only seemed right to offer the same courtesy.
Politeness—that was all there was to it.
She blushed prettily, and smiled up at him. “Colin…your stories are always interesting, and while you are handsome, you are never vain. And your manners are perfect, as I’m sure you are aware.”
He couldn’t resist. As foolish as it was, as wrong as it was, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers…and she immediately kissed him back.
Their bodies met in the space between the two armchairs, and as he laid her down on the rug before the fireplace, all he was thinking was that she was intoxicating, and he needed more of her.