Page 38 of The Art of Sinning

You need fire and life and the thrill of the night.

What a devil. He thought he knew everything about her. And yes, he might be right about what she needed. But she wasn’t willing to give up her future for it, or to watch as some scoundrel abandoned her for his mistress or other petty enjoyments. She needed a husband who wouldn’t disappear at the first sign of trouble, and she was fairly certain Jeremy could never be that. Look at how he had run off to England to escape his family.

He claimed she was like him, but she wasn’t. She would never shirk her responsibilities, just to have fire and life and the thrill of the night. She’d learned her lesson only too well with the lieutenant.

She had—truly she had. Even if Jeremywasthe most fascinating man who’d ever kissed her.

Dinner proved an awkward affair. Edwin seemed even more melancholy than usual, especially with Jeremy not there. It didn’t help that her thoughts were elsewhere, too. On what might transpire later. On whether Jeremy might attempt to kiss her again. On what she would do if he did.

“Take care, Yvette,” Edwin murmured.

She practically jumped in her chair. Good Lord, her brother had begun reading minds.

She feigned a smile. “About what?”

“About Keane. The air fairly crackles between you. I don’t know what happened this morning before I came in, but I couldn’t help noticing that when you returned from changing your clothes, you were wearing that red silk evening gown I hate. I would have preferred that you wore something for your portrait that was less—”

“Interesting?”

“Yes, if by ‘interesting,’ you mean it shows too much of your... er... shoulders. That’s the kind of ‘interesting’ a man can’t help but notice. Especially a man like Keane.”

“All he saw was that it was bright red and brought out the color of my hair.” Sadly, that had seemed to be true.

“That’s not what it looked like to me. I realize you find him an intriguing man of the world—”

“You have no idea how I find him.” She was getting tired of men presuming to guess her thoughts. And then comment on them.

“I’ve seen the looks you give him,” Edwin persisted.

“What looks? The exasperated ones? The annoyed ones?”

“Yes. Those. You don’t take other rogues seriously, either laughing or flirting or mocking them. But you’re nervous and cautious around Mr. Keane. Which is how I can tell you like him.”

How startling that Edwin had surmised such a thing. He wasn’t usually so astute about people’s feelings. “That’s preposterous.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t be so foolish as to like his sort.”

His somber gaze saw right through her. “But you must admit that you—”

When he caught himself with a look of chagrin, she lifted one eyebrow. “That I what?”

“Nothing.” He smoothed his features. “I must have misread your feelings.”

“Yes, you must have.” She placed her napkin on the table and stood. “I’m going to bed. Rising at dawn is clearly not for me.”

He blinked. “What if Keane comes to the drawing room?”

“Then the two of you shall have a fine talk. You don’t need me for that.”

She could feel him watching her as she left. Was she really that transparent around Jeremy? If even Edwin could sense the simmering attraction between them, then it was dangerously obvious.

Once in her room, she told her maid she was ready to retire, then suffered through the motions of that preparation. But after her maid left her, she realized it was still too early to meet Jeremy in the schoolroom. So she lay down on the bed, meaning only to rest a moment.

She awoke to the sun streaming through the curtains at dawn.

Oh, Lord! She’d slept through their assignation!

Muttering every cant term for “ninny” that she knew, she called for her maid and dressed hastily. She ignored the poor girl’s protestations that something must be amiss for her ladyship to be retiring and rising so early. It wasn’t like her ladyship at all.

No, it wasn’t. But at least she’d finally had a good night’s sleep. Perhaps that would help her to endure a day of posing in public, followed by a night of posing in private.