To Love A Wicked Scoundrel. Anabelle BryantЧитать онлайн книгу.
away from his tempting lips, never mind the experience of his kiss. Isabelle focused on her new mission. ‘Not everyone can live a scandalous lifestyle and be admired while doing so.’
Isabelle expected him to remark on her impertinence. Instead his eyes glittered with a hint of humour and his lips twisted in a half smile. She might not have noticed, except she had yet to convince herself to look away from his mouth.
‘What is your name? I cannot wait any longer.’
He leaned forward, just a little bit closer, and Isabelle smelled his shaving soap and some other unidentifiable scent. An undercurrent of virility radiated from him, nevertheless she experienced no fear. How odd. Her prudent, mannerly lifestyle always followed the safest path and this fair-haired devil presented danger in every form. That in itself proved perplexing. Then an unfamiliar yearning curled within her and caused her thoughts to tumble one over the other.
‘Isabelle.’ While she knew it went against all propriety to offer him her Christian name, he’d just danced with her stepmother and would recognise their shared surname. How had the evening become so complicated? She had no experience of the game Lord Highborough played and she’d rather keep it that way. Her heart thrummed a chaotic beat and it was a wonder she managed to remain upright. Each time he looked at her with his smile full of sin, her knees grew weaker still.
‘Isabelle.’ He said her name as if he savoured it and she shivered from the effect. ‘It suits you, although you know you just broke another rule.’
He smiled again and Isabelle had a keen awareness of the moment. He stood before her and watched her as if he could peer straight into her soul. Against all reprimand, her traitorous body grew wondrously warm under his scrutiny.
‘So tell me, beautiful Isabelle, why is it as such an ambivalent rule follower, I find you far removed from the ballroom and enticing me with your first name, as beguiling as it may be?’
She couldn’t very well tell him she wanted to smell the tulips, yet the more she forced herself to focus, the more she couldn’t hold a thought. Good heavens, the man proved distracting. She scrambled for a suitable reply.
‘I will keep your secret if you will keep mine. In that manner, neither one of us need reveal the true reason we escaped the crush.’ She took a small step and regained a shred of confidence with her ability to string words into an intelligent sentence. ‘I really must return. I am certain the dinner bell has rung.’ Maybe it would be that easy. He would step aside and allow her to pass. Surely Meredith searched for her.
But he did not move, not even a hair’s breadth. Instead his gaze slid down her length. Slowly.
‘And end our intriguing little interlude? We have yet to make our agreement official and seal it with a kiss?’
His improper suggestion was scandalous to say the least. How else could she explain her riot of emotions? Yet the fact he wooed every female with his fancy words and polished appearance afforded her the opportunity to find reason with expedience. She knew better than to take even one step onto such a dangerous path, no matter the temptation of kissing Constantine Highborough’s sensual mouth. Adventure, indeed.
Resorting to a feminine ploy far below her level of intelligence, Isabelle wriggled her wrist until her dance card fluttered to the floor at their feet. The embossed paper landed near his right boot. Then taking full advantage of the situation as he bent to retrieve the fallen card, she skirted around his prone form and out through the double doors. Isabelle thought she heard rich laughter, in tune to the thunderous beat of her heart, but she could not be sure.
True to Isabelle’s prediction, Meredith described her midnight waltz in every minuscule detail during the carriage ride home. The few minutes spent within Lord Handsome’s embrace secured her determination to seek his affection and become his newest paramour.
Meredith continued to discuss the experience in a dreamlike tone at the breakfast table the following morning. Isabelle neglected sharing any mention of her brief interlude in the library. She was grateful she escaped the room without having to reveal her last name and held no desire to interfere with her stepmother’s plotting. The new day brought with it rational thinking and a sensible solution was easily found. From now on, she would steer clear of the devil with his hypnotic blue eyes and long golden hair. No matter how she itched to gather the lengths together where it overrode his collar.
Good heavens, she was behaving like a ninny. She forced the vivid images from her mind and helped Lily make her plate from the sideboard server, aware a change of topic was in order for no other reason than that the child had joined them.
‘I have a wonderful idea.’ Isabelle confirmed her sister had everything she needed for the meal before she filled her own plate and brought it to the table. ‘After I return from the flower mart this morning, let us plan to spend the afternoon in the square. You may take your hoop or we can walk the paths and look for interesting items to add to your jars.’
Lily’s favourite pastime stemmed from adding items to her vast collections. Isabelle was anxious to give the best part of the afternoon to her sister having spent so much time out of house the day before. ‘I am sure we will discover a rare feather or pretty pebble.’
The child clapped her hands and excitement lit her eyes. ‘That is a grand idea. I will be ready as soon as you return. I do hope we will find a lost button. I always wonder about the person who wore it before it fell off.’
Isabelle recalled the black glass button on Lord Highborough’s cuff when he reached forward to touch her hair the night before. She’d had the fleeting thought Lily would adore the sleek glass fastener, but had lost the idea once her gaze settled on the earl’s entrancing mouth.
Even in the light of a new day, the remembrance of his perfectly formed lips continued to haunt her. And his suggestion that they kiss. It was downright inappropriate. She ascertained its scandalous nature served as the reason she could not chase the persisting proposition from her mind.
‘What time are you going to Covent Garden?’ Meredith took a sip of tea with distracted attention. Would her stepmother hear her answer this time? She had mentioned her plans twice already.
‘After seeing the tulips last evening, I am anxious to explore the variety of flora available. On the rare occasion Father brought me to London, he always said a trip to Covent Garden was a waste of time. I’ve always wanted to go.’ A knowing smile teased her lips. The Rochester tulips had proved the perfect excuse for her absence from the ballroom upon Meredith’s inquiry of her whereabouts. She turned to Lily who looked quite adorable, her huge bites of currant toast having left smudges of sticky red jam on her cheeks.
‘Would you like me to bring you anything special from the flower market? Something we could keep upstairs in your bedchamber and will not cause your mother to sneeze?’
Lily giggled and leaned forward as Isabelle cleaned her sister’s face with a linen napkin. ‘You decide. I love surprises.’ Then she paused and cast her eyes downward in a compelling pose. ‘Although I do want a dormouse more than anything in the world.’
Meredith interjected, her tone adamant. ‘We are not getting a pet mouse. Most people work hard to keep mice out of their homes. I have told you as much before.’ She dismissed her daughter’s request and continued. ‘It will be terribly crowded at Covent Garden. Are you sure you wish to go?’
Isabelle stood and placed her napkin on the table, anxious to be on her way. ‘Yes, the market will be busy but I do not mind. Janie knows the area, as well as many other servants who shop there each week. She promised to show me the best merchants.’
‘Hurry back. I cannot wait to walk with you in the square.’ Lily’s appeal to return with haste was lost in another bite of toast, her cheeks again smudged rosy.
Isabelle moved to the front door and pulled on her gloves as Janie joined her. It would prove refreshing to take the quiet coach