Page 6 of The Scot’s Seduction (Heirs & Spares #2)

He wished he could get up and do a celebratory jig, but that would not be possible. First of all, it would be extremely odd, to say the least; second, he wasn’t certain there was enough room here for his limbs to flail about in joy. The last thing he wanted was to bust up Lady Drusilla’s home.

Instead, he reviewed the sandwiches on offer and picked one up, biting into it and uttering a little moan of satisfaction as he tasted the rare roast beef and horseradish.

Which startled him as well as her; she was giving him a wide, surprised look, and he immediately felt himself blush. Thankfully his beard hid most of it.

“Uh, my apologies,” he said, putting the sandwich down on a plate.

Her eyes sparkled. “No, my lord, do not apologize. It is unusual to see someone take pleasure in something so openly.”

Her words sparked something inside him, and he felt a shiver throughout his body—her mention of taking pleasure made him think of her pleasure, and how he could assist with that.

She was extraordinarily charismatic, and her words and gestures, from how she raised her eyebrow in admiration or said things he didn’t think polite Society ladies usually did, immediately made one think of losing oneself in a sensual haze.

Or perhaps that was just him.

But again, he could not respond to any of those feelings, because he might bust up not just her home but this fragile accord she’d agreed to in sponsoring Emily’s debut.

And that was his first priority. He wanted Emily to find happiness in her future, since her past was so difficult. He knew full well he wasn’t the one who was best poised to bring it about, but he was the one who’d been tasked with it.

“Do have another,” she said, pushing the plate of sandwiches toward him. “I like to see someone enjoy his food.”

For a moment, he’d completely forgotten what was happening, he’d been so caught up in his thoughts of any kind of romantic potential and what could not possibly be.

“Uh, yes, thank you,” he mumbled, this time picking up what appeared to be a cheese sandwich with some sort of green tucked between the slices.

She rose, going to a small desk and withdrawing a pad of paper and a pencil. He chewed, keeping his eye on her, as though she might make a run for it. Though that was ridiculous—she was in her own home. If anything, she might push him out the door.

She’s said yes , he reminded himself.

“I find I work better if I have a list,” she said, returning to sit in her chair. She propped the pad on her thigh and looked down.

“I find the same thing,” he replied in a gruff tone.

She glanced up, her eyes twinkling. “We have something in common then, my lord. Besides wanting the best for your niece. That is excellent.”

Her words made it sound as though she was truly pleased, and he marveled at this lady’s ability to just—speak her mind and her emotions without any kind of embarrassment or impediment to her frankness.

“The first thing is you,” she continued, scratching on her pad.

“Me?” he replied, surprised.

She nodded, this time not meeting his gaze. “Yes, we’ll need to get your wardrobe updated, your grooming taken care of, and likely some reminders on dancing and etiquette.”

He bristled. “What is wrong with my grooming?”

Now she lifted her head and raised that eyebrow as though she was thoroughly amused. “That—that growth on your face. It needs to go,” she said.

He clutched it instinctively. “My beard?”

A nod. “Yes.” Her tone was final and decisive.

“I like my beard,” he exclaimed. It was easy to hide behind.

“That is one of you, then, my lord,” she said.

“And while it might be fun to travel through that thicket somehow, I have to say that Society does not always appreciate your particular type of facial extravagance.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled.

“It does make you look rather fierce, though, which can be appealing.”

“Fine,” he said curtly. “I’ll shave. And you’ll be there to oversee my wardrobe purchases, I assume?”

“Of course,” she assured him. “I cannot tell you to do something I want done and then not oversee the doing of it.”

“The dancing and the etiquette as well?”

“Indeed.”

She lowered her head to her list. “I will also take your niece to go wardrobe shopping. You are welcome to come. And Emily will likely need to get dancing and etiquette lessons as well.” She scribbled a few more lines on her pad. “We have a lot of work to do, my lord.”

That sounded like a dismissal, so he brushed his hands together and cleared his throat. “Thank you again, my lady. Please let me know when it is convenient to tour the properties. I will send a letter to my solicitors asking them to draw up a contract.”

“Thank you, my lord. I believe we will have a lot of fun in the forthcoming weeks.”

And as they rose, he was startled to realize he believed they would have fun—even though he’d been dreading this entire thing since Emily’s grandmother had written to him detailing what was entailed in launching Emily into polite Society.