Xyantha Reborn
- Actually Very Tame!
Book 2 in the period romance trilogy.
Find book 1 here - Cravats and Coat Tails
Chapter 1
Gorgeous puffs of lace, velvet and other fabrics whirled about the dance floor, their owners extending long and graceful arms in pale arcs. Their male counterparts moved in a mass of synchronized darkness. Well, mostly synchronized. A few were a hair off tempo, and Clarice sighed as the couples continued to move their way through the set. Watching dancing was enjoyable, but watching good dancers was an absolute pleasure.
Her eyes eventually wandered, as they had all evening, back to the form of a plump yet graceful newlywed and the man who stood next to her. “Quite an original,” she murmured to herself. She tapped her lips absently with the edge of her fan as she continued her perusal. Silken hair was tied back simply, framing good skin and wide green eyes that tilted as she laughed up at her companion. Her skin was a touch too tanned but her complexion was still quite lovely, all peaches and cream.
“What was that, my dear?” Mr. Belltaunt queried as he glanced down at his daughter, mind clearly elsewhere. He was engaged in his usual sport; watching all the people in the room. Gathering information about those he knew little about, and cross referencing new data with what he had on file. A man of great intellect as well as a studier of the human character…if not the human condition.
“Nothing, Papa,” she laughed as she casually wrapped her arm around his. “I just made the most interesting acquaintance tonight, that is all. Are you familiar with the Nottinghams?” The male specimen currently under her observation seemed to sense the intensity of her gaze, twisting around to glance at her. The eyes in that face were grey and hawklike, following the motions of those around him with a firm gaze, even while he smiled or laughed. Which he did often, seeming to take a good natured enjoyment from everything around him. That twisting motion produced a most spectacular example of the masculine form. Despite the formal layers of clothing, his trim and tidy waist was obvious, flaring upwards into broad and heavy shoulders. If his torso was muscled anything like his arms were…beautiful specimen.
Her father was already responding. “Good family, good estate, but has fallen on hard times. They are operating on minimal savings and reputation alone at this point, I am afraid. I understand the eldest, Raoul Nottingham, recently married Katherine Chelsey. A poor choice, for securing the future of his estate, but it appears they hit it off quite remarkably. From what I can gather - ” which meant that his detailed and copious research had told him was true, “ – there is some sort of money mismanagement of the estate, although I haven’t had the time or need to investigate further.”
“Mmm,” the daughter replied, resting one plump hand on her heavily corseted waist, lightly pinching the round pad under her chin in thought. “Interesting. I wonder why he made the match, if the estate is in such a bad way. I have also heard that his Aunt takes an unfortunate and destructive interest in the property. Perhaps the two are linked?” Turning her gaze back to that side of the room for a moment, she tapped her father’s forearm. “And the younger?”
“Very likely. The woman is as vindictive as a viper.” Following the gaze of his companion, the elder man inclined his head. “Yes. That would be the younger, Harry. Unfortunately I do not have much information on him, my dear. All I know is that he and his brother had a falling out years ago and have never been seen in polite society together since, and that the younger boy has a sunny disposition to counteract the other’s stormy one.”
Only her Papa would classify that gorgeous man in front of her a boy. “A mystery, then,” she purred throatily to herself. Louder, she added, “Well. You know my sense of curiosity, Father. I believe I may grow quite fond of Katherine on closer acquaintance. Quite bosom friends, you know.”
Grey brows arched over shrewd brown eyes. “Oh, I am well aware of your curiosity. And your stubborn will. Far too much like your mother, you are. And what are you planning, Clarice?”
“Plan has such boring, plotting, long term intimations. I simply want to invite them to tea tomorrow – you will not have any objections, I am sure?” She fluttered her lashes up at him. “It will be quite the thing. I can see the expressions on the faces of those delicate doves already – oh, what sport! All to thin out the crowd,” she added with a tinkling laugh. “And I daresay that I may be able to rummage up some additional details on the estate, and possible…opportunities. I do need to marry at some point, after all.”
“Even if I did have any objections, I find it highly unlikely they would stop you,” he sighed with an affectionate smile. “But my dear, have a care. Although Raoul may have married, his brother has not. I find it highly unlikely that one brother would be an infamous rakehell while the other would be the epitome of goodness. Do not allow his smiles and winning ways to close your eyes to his real character.”
A deep sigh was nearly pulled out of her, only limited by the tight corset. It reminded her that she had gained more weight again, and that she was riding a dangerously close line between lusciously plump and unforgivably fat. She more like a sausage in a casing than…. A blush rose to her cheeks. Well, maybe she did still look like a plump piece of cake, if that man’s devouring expression was any indication.
*~*~*
“My dear, dear Katherine!”
The other ladies in the room immediately rose, their expressions smoothing from the curled lips of contempt to fawning interest. It was laughably easy to read their thoughts.
Clearly their newest member was a favourite among their hosts, and all of the city new that only the favoured of Clarice Belltaunt were invited over to tea. A privilege that most of the women here would not forgo, as they tried to smooth the path for their brothers to be introduced to this most eligible woman…if only in purse, not title. Many of the second and third sons would leave marrying a title to the elder and instead commit to a massive purse, and a bride who was rumoured to destined to be as massive as the dowry she brought to the union.
For a moment, the other woman hesitated, but only for a fraction of a heartbeat. In an instant, she was willingly putting her own hands into the plump ones of her hostess. “Thank you so much for having us, Miss – ”
Waving a hand, Clarice leaned forward to kiss each of her cheeks. “Pshaw, my dearest. No need to be so formal with such intimate friends about!” In a breathy whisper, she added, “Thank you for saving me from their insipid conversation. I really was about to fall fast asleep if we were to talk about the latest ribbons from Paris again!”
The combined breathless gasps from multiple ladies throats made both of them turn to glance at them. They curtsied almost in unison, answering the perfectly respectful and correct leg that the man behind Katherine made. His effect on the ladies was akin to a cat’s on a field of butterflies. They began to fidget about, pale pastels rustling, chirping and twittering to each other softly.
Clarice saw that her newest guests immediately understood what she was about, and her respect for each increased along with her interest. “Ah, and you have brought him! How delightful.” Turning, she cast a Cheshire smile at the semicircle of female forms. “Well, my dearest doves, do you think that between us we will be able to handle this one fox in our midst? This is Harry Nottingham and his sister, Katherine, who is bride of Raoul Nottingham. I’m sure you have heard the most…titillating details concerning them. But I am sure we shall be quite safe as long as we stick together!”
“Of course,” the eldest murmured, although she began to look quite distressed. Her sallow skin grew even more so, a light sheen of perspiration dampening her brow as her brain rapidly tried to calculate all of the social implications of being in the same room, unchaperoned, with the brother of a famous rakehell. But to shun the Miss Belltaunt’s tea party would be to close the door on a most eligible match…
Whereas her father loved to study the scientific facts, Clarice loved to watch the social aspects of the world around her, and took an unabashed glee in watching the tide of indecisiveness rise up and overtake even the bravest of girls. In situations of stress, it was all or none. It was one thing to be at a tea party, it was another to be nearly alone with the man.
Bravery quickly fled with each subsequent departure. One by one, the girls gave their regrets, leaving one by one or in pairs. Their hostess clucked her tongue at the unfortunate recollections of previous obligations. Until, at last, the large room held only the three of them.
When the last of them had exited, Clarice turned wide eyes to the two remaining, blinking vapidly and tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Well, I declare. What was that about, do you suppose? Such a mass exodus!”
The man had a slightly dishevelled appearance, and his Adams apple was visible through his messily tied cravat. It moved as he swallowed his laughter. “I feel like this was all according to your design,” he murmured. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and the light streaming through the windows caught at the dark brown whiskers just beginning to roughen the surface of his cheeks.
She had heard his brother speak, a slightly growling and raspy tone reminiscent of a threatening storm cloud. Harry had a lighter voice, full of laughter and much more like the threat of a summer rain shower. “Little old me?” she demanded, laying a dramatic hand to her breast.
“Do not misunderstand me; I do occasionally enjoy being the fox who drives the hens out of the henhouse.” At that moment, he gave a big grin, full of teeth, and he really did look the part of a fox – sly, grinning and lean.
In this more intimate setting, away from the smells and sounds and intrusions, Clarice was free to examine his form in closer detail. Under the pretext of readying the serving things, she allowed her eyes to drink their fill. They did not come away parched, but instead only whetted. Long, lean and tightly muscled legs were visible under his breeches. The tailoring of his clothing was not the best she had ever seen, but the body it lovingly draped over looked good enough to be a marble statue. Delicious.
Katherine cast him a look before smiling at them both. “I take it that you had had enough of your other friends?”
“Anyone who cannot stand up to a little social pressure is no friend of mine,” Clarice responded coolly, gesturing for them to sit. “I have heard a lot about you, Katherine, and much of it pleases me. It is hard to find a woman who is unapologetically intelligent and strong willed…and equally rare to find a man does not feel…how shall we say this?” She paused for emphasis, casting a glance at the only male presence in the room. “Emasculated by it.”
Harry’s brows twitched, and he smothered his smile behind his tea cup which one of the maids had poured while they spoke. “Thank you,” he murmured to the maid. It was not done in the normal, absent fashion of the entitled. Instead, he made eye contact with her, bowing his head minutely in acknowledgement.
“Yes, thank you, Natalie,” she murmured. Curiouser and curiouser.
“You are taken aback?” he replied, his manner hesitant.
“Not at all. It is refreshing,” she murmured. “Tell me, is it true what they say? That the servants in your house are treated as equals?”
He blinked, cup lowered while he thought. “I would not go so far as to say equals, madam, but they are treated with respect. They are employees, and are paid according to, and respected for their abilities. I don’t spend much time at home, but I know my brother has one of the best functioning houses I have ever met.” He raised the cup back to those firm, sculpted lips.
Clarice smiled at Katherine, withdrawing her gaze from his cleft chin and firm jaw. “So I have heard. Don’t be surprised, Kitty – may I call you so? Thank you. Formalities are so exhausting! I am, as they say, ‘bourgeoisie’.” She tinkled out a laugh at the term. “And thus I am always concerned with the practical – and what can be more practical than the care and betterment of those who have the most control over our lives?”
Her female guest did not have the ‘refinement’ of masking her expression, and in its open expression was intelligence and interest. “I have always thought so,” she murmured with some hesitation. Emboldened by both of their interested gazes, she shrugged, cheeks pink. “We spend so much time worrying about how others in society may affect us – and yet those who have the most effect on our day to day lives are ignored. We forget that none of us would be able to maintain this lifestyle without those who we ignore in their very minutia.”
“Like women. Oh - close your ears, Harry. We are about to talk of truly scandalous things.”
Instead of following her directions, he grinned most roguishly, ignoring her use of his first name. “Don’t try to pigeonhole me, if you please. I don’t see how acknowledging the female contributions to society is scandalous. To my sister’s point; women are intrinsic in the bearing and raising of our children.”
Clarice’s eyes were widened in surprise, and she tapped his wrist lightly with a fingertip. “You astound me. How positively liberal!”
His ready mouth parted in a laugh, revealing good teeth. “I had a strong feminine role model as a child,” he admitted. “You would understand if you met our cook.”
“She is quite a woman,” Katherine admitted. Straightening, she made eye contact. “This has already been quite the unusual morning, so far. I was not expecting…such transparency. May I ask…”
“Why I invited you both? Is it so hard to believe I might want some intelligent female companionship?” Relenting, she shrugged. “I have said I am bourgeoisie, yes? As a family of merchants, we are always looking out for how to make the best of situations.”
Both looked at her curiously, not understanding the implications. “What situation?” Harry asked politely, raising the cup to his lips again.
Lifting her own cup to her lips, she sipped at the beverage before speaking, letting the preceeding silence emphasize her words. “I am in the market for a husband. You are in the market for a wife.”
Harry choked, spluttered, coughed, and rose to face away from them as he tried to breathe.
“It is a most eligible connection on both sides. We marry into a titled family, you have access to our more…material resources. And I think our manner of living is not quite as disparate as in other households, though we are certainly more provincial. And I think Katherine and I would get along quite nicely,” she added as she raised her cup in toast to the other woman.
Katherine had raised her handkerchief to her face, muffling a paroxysm of laughter that had overtaken her and rendered speech impossible.
The poor man looked completely caught on his left foot. “Are you propositioning me?” he demanded at last, mouth gaping.
“Check. You’re move, dearie,” she purred. “That is, if I have not offended your delicate masculine sensibilities about feminine conduct and their proper place in society.” The heiress batted her eyes, pouting her lips. “More tea?”
Most men would have at least pretended to look shocked and offended. Harry’s eyes narrowed and a slow grin bared his teeth. “I would love more tea…Clarice.”
Her name, spoken in that promising growl, made shivers of excitement run down her arms, and those firm lips slowly curling in promised retribution made her heart patter faster.
Well that wasn’t part of the deal she had envisioned.
Find book 1 here - Cravats and Coat Tails
Chapter 1
Gorgeous puffs of lace, velvet and other fabrics whirled about the dance floor, their owners extending long and graceful arms in pale arcs. Their male counterparts moved in a mass of synchronized darkness. Well, mostly synchronized. A few were a hair off tempo, and Clarice sighed as the couples continued to move their way through the set. Watching dancing was enjoyable, but watching good dancers was an absolute pleasure.
Her eyes eventually wandered, as they had all evening, back to the form of a plump yet graceful newlywed and the man who stood next to her. “Quite an original,” she murmured to herself. She tapped her lips absently with the edge of her fan as she continued her perusal. Silken hair was tied back simply, framing good skin and wide green eyes that tilted as she laughed up at her companion. Her skin was a touch too tanned but her complexion was still quite lovely, all peaches and cream.
“What was that, my dear?” Mr. Belltaunt queried as he glanced down at his daughter, mind clearly elsewhere. He was engaged in his usual sport; watching all the people in the room. Gathering information about those he knew little about, and cross referencing new data with what he had on file. A man of great intellect as well as a studier of the human character…if not the human condition.
“Nothing, Papa,” she laughed as she casually wrapped her arm around his. “I just made the most interesting acquaintance tonight, that is all. Are you familiar with the Nottinghams?” The male specimen currently under her observation seemed to sense the intensity of her gaze, twisting around to glance at her. The eyes in that face were grey and hawklike, following the motions of those around him with a firm gaze, even while he smiled or laughed. Which he did often, seeming to take a good natured enjoyment from everything around him. That twisting motion produced a most spectacular example of the masculine form. Despite the formal layers of clothing, his trim and tidy waist was obvious, flaring upwards into broad and heavy shoulders. If his torso was muscled anything like his arms were…beautiful specimen.
Her father was already responding. “Good family, good estate, but has fallen on hard times. They are operating on minimal savings and reputation alone at this point, I am afraid. I understand the eldest, Raoul Nottingham, recently married Katherine Chelsey. A poor choice, for securing the future of his estate, but it appears they hit it off quite remarkably. From what I can gather - ” which meant that his detailed and copious research had told him was true, “ – there is some sort of money mismanagement of the estate, although I haven’t had the time or need to investigate further.”
“Mmm,” the daughter replied, resting one plump hand on her heavily corseted waist, lightly pinching the round pad under her chin in thought. “Interesting. I wonder why he made the match, if the estate is in such a bad way. I have also heard that his Aunt takes an unfortunate and destructive interest in the property. Perhaps the two are linked?” Turning her gaze back to that side of the room for a moment, she tapped her father’s forearm. “And the younger?”
“Very likely. The woman is as vindictive as a viper.” Following the gaze of his companion, the elder man inclined his head. “Yes. That would be the younger, Harry. Unfortunately I do not have much information on him, my dear. All I know is that he and his brother had a falling out years ago and have never been seen in polite society together since, and that the younger boy has a sunny disposition to counteract the other’s stormy one.”
Only her Papa would classify that gorgeous man in front of her a boy. “A mystery, then,” she purred throatily to herself. Louder, she added, “Well. You know my sense of curiosity, Father. I believe I may grow quite fond of Katherine on closer acquaintance. Quite bosom friends, you know.”
Grey brows arched over shrewd brown eyes. “Oh, I am well aware of your curiosity. And your stubborn will. Far too much like your mother, you are. And what are you planning, Clarice?”
“Plan has such boring, plotting, long term intimations. I simply want to invite them to tea tomorrow – you will not have any objections, I am sure?” She fluttered her lashes up at him. “It will be quite the thing. I can see the expressions on the faces of those delicate doves already – oh, what sport! All to thin out the crowd,” she added with a tinkling laugh. “And I daresay that I may be able to rummage up some additional details on the estate, and possible…opportunities. I do need to marry at some point, after all.”
“Even if I did have any objections, I find it highly unlikely they would stop you,” he sighed with an affectionate smile. “But my dear, have a care. Although Raoul may have married, his brother has not. I find it highly unlikely that one brother would be an infamous rakehell while the other would be the epitome of goodness. Do not allow his smiles and winning ways to close your eyes to his real character.”
A deep sigh was nearly pulled out of her, only limited by the tight corset. It reminded her that she had gained more weight again, and that she was riding a dangerously close line between lusciously plump and unforgivably fat. She more like a sausage in a casing than…. A blush rose to her cheeks. Well, maybe she did still look like a plump piece of cake, if that man’s devouring expression was any indication.
*~*~*
“My dear, dear Katherine!”
The other ladies in the room immediately rose, their expressions smoothing from the curled lips of contempt to fawning interest. It was laughably easy to read their thoughts.
Clearly their newest member was a favourite among their hosts, and all of the city new that only the favoured of Clarice Belltaunt were invited over to tea. A privilege that most of the women here would not forgo, as they tried to smooth the path for their brothers to be introduced to this most eligible woman…if only in purse, not title. Many of the second and third sons would leave marrying a title to the elder and instead commit to a massive purse, and a bride who was rumoured to destined to be as massive as the dowry she brought to the union.
For a moment, the other woman hesitated, but only for a fraction of a heartbeat. In an instant, she was willingly putting her own hands into the plump ones of her hostess. “Thank you so much for having us, Miss – ”
Waving a hand, Clarice leaned forward to kiss each of her cheeks. “Pshaw, my dearest. No need to be so formal with such intimate friends about!” In a breathy whisper, she added, “Thank you for saving me from their insipid conversation. I really was about to fall fast asleep if we were to talk about the latest ribbons from Paris again!”
The combined breathless gasps from multiple ladies throats made both of them turn to glance at them. They curtsied almost in unison, answering the perfectly respectful and correct leg that the man behind Katherine made. His effect on the ladies was akin to a cat’s on a field of butterflies. They began to fidget about, pale pastels rustling, chirping and twittering to each other softly.
Clarice saw that her newest guests immediately understood what she was about, and her respect for each increased along with her interest. “Ah, and you have brought him! How delightful.” Turning, she cast a Cheshire smile at the semicircle of female forms. “Well, my dearest doves, do you think that between us we will be able to handle this one fox in our midst? This is Harry Nottingham and his sister, Katherine, who is bride of Raoul Nottingham. I’m sure you have heard the most…titillating details concerning them. But I am sure we shall be quite safe as long as we stick together!”
“Of course,” the eldest murmured, although she began to look quite distressed. Her sallow skin grew even more so, a light sheen of perspiration dampening her brow as her brain rapidly tried to calculate all of the social implications of being in the same room, unchaperoned, with the brother of a famous rakehell. But to shun the Miss Belltaunt’s tea party would be to close the door on a most eligible match…
Whereas her father loved to study the scientific facts, Clarice loved to watch the social aspects of the world around her, and took an unabashed glee in watching the tide of indecisiveness rise up and overtake even the bravest of girls. In situations of stress, it was all or none. It was one thing to be at a tea party, it was another to be nearly alone with the man.
Bravery quickly fled with each subsequent departure. One by one, the girls gave their regrets, leaving one by one or in pairs. Their hostess clucked her tongue at the unfortunate recollections of previous obligations. Until, at last, the large room held only the three of them.
When the last of them had exited, Clarice turned wide eyes to the two remaining, blinking vapidly and tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Well, I declare. What was that about, do you suppose? Such a mass exodus!”
The man had a slightly dishevelled appearance, and his Adams apple was visible through his messily tied cravat. It moved as he swallowed his laughter. “I feel like this was all according to your design,” he murmured. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and the light streaming through the windows caught at the dark brown whiskers just beginning to roughen the surface of his cheeks.
She had heard his brother speak, a slightly growling and raspy tone reminiscent of a threatening storm cloud. Harry had a lighter voice, full of laughter and much more like the threat of a summer rain shower. “Little old me?” she demanded, laying a dramatic hand to her breast.
“Do not misunderstand me; I do occasionally enjoy being the fox who drives the hens out of the henhouse.” At that moment, he gave a big grin, full of teeth, and he really did look the part of a fox – sly, grinning and lean.
In this more intimate setting, away from the smells and sounds and intrusions, Clarice was free to examine his form in closer detail. Under the pretext of readying the serving things, she allowed her eyes to drink their fill. They did not come away parched, but instead only whetted. Long, lean and tightly muscled legs were visible under his breeches. The tailoring of his clothing was not the best she had ever seen, but the body it lovingly draped over looked good enough to be a marble statue. Delicious.
Katherine cast him a look before smiling at them both. “I take it that you had had enough of your other friends?”
“Anyone who cannot stand up to a little social pressure is no friend of mine,” Clarice responded coolly, gesturing for them to sit. “I have heard a lot about you, Katherine, and much of it pleases me. It is hard to find a woman who is unapologetically intelligent and strong willed…and equally rare to find a man does not feel…how shall we say this?” She paused for emphasis, casting a glance at the only male presence in the room. “Emasculated by it.”
Harry’s brows twitched, and he smothered his smile behind his tea cup which one of the maids had poured while they spoke. “Thank you,” he murmured to the maid. It was not done in the normal, absent fashion of the entitled. Instead, he made eye contact with her, bowing his head minutely in acknowledgement.
“Yes, thank you, Natalie,” she murmured. Curiouser and curiouser.
“You are taken aback?” he replied, his manner hesitant.
“Not at all. It is refreshing,” she murmured. “Tell me, is it true what they say? That the servants in your house are treated as equals?”
He blinked, cup lowered while he thought. “I would not go so far as to say equals, madam, but they are treated with respect. They are employees, and are paid according to, and respected for their abilities. I don’t spend much time at home, but I know my brother has one of the best functioning houses I have ever met.” He raised the cup back to those firm, sculpted lips.
Clarice smiled at Katherine, withdrawing her gaze from his cleft chin and firm jaw. “So I have heard. Don’t be surprised, Kitty – may I call you so? Thank you. Formalities are so exhausting! I am, as they say, ‘bourgeoisie’.” She tinkled out a laugh at the term. “And thus I am always concerned with the practical – and what can be more practical than the care and betterment of those who have the most control over our lives?”
Her female guest did not have the ‘refinement’ of masking her expression, and in its open expression was intelligence and interest. “I have always thought so,” she murmured with some hesitation. Emboldened by both of their interested gazes, she shrugged, cheeks pink. “We spend so much time worrying about how others in society may affect us – and yet those who have the most effect on our day to day lives are ignored. We forget that none of us would be able to maintain this lifestyle without those who we ignore in their very minutia.”
“Like women. Oh - close your ears, Harry. We are about to talk of truly scandalous things.”
Instead of following her directions, he grinned most roguishly, ignoring her use of his first name. “Don’t try to pigeonhole me, if you please. I don’t see how acknowledging the female contributions to society is scandalous. To my sister’s point; women are intrinsic in the bearing and raising of our children.”
Clarice’s eyes were widened in surprise, and she tapped his wrist lightly with a fingertip. “You astound me. How positively liberal!”
His ready mouth parted in a laugh, revealing good teeth. “I had a strong feminine role model as a child,” he admitted. “You would understand if you met our cook.”
“She is quite a woman,” Katherine admitted. Straightening, she made eye contact. “This has already been quite the unusual morning, so far. I was not expecting…such transparency. May I ask…”
“Why I invited you both? Is it so hard to believe I might want some intelligent female companionship?” Relenting, she shrugged. “I have said I am bourgeoisie, yes? As a family of merchants, we are always looking out for how to make the best of situations.”
Both looked at her curiously, not understanding the implications. “What situation?” Harry asked politely, raising the cup to his lips again.
Lifting her own cup to her lips, she sipped at the beverage before speaking, letting the preceeding silence emphasize her words. “I am in the market for a husband. You are in the market for a wife.”
Harry choked, spluttered, coughed, and rose to face away from them as he tried to breathe.
“It is a most eligible connection on both sides. We marry into a titled family, you have access to our more…material resources. And I think our manner of living is not quite as disparate as in other households, though we are certainly more provincial. And I think Katherine and I would get along quite nicely,” she added as she raised her cup in toast to the other woman.
Katherine had raised her handkerchief to her face, muffling a paroxysm of laughter that had overtaken her and rendered speech impossible.
The poor man looked completely caught on his left foot. “Are you propositioning me?” he demanded at last, mouth gaping.
“Check. You’re move, dearie,” she purred. “That is, if I have not offended your delicate masculine sensibilities about feminine conduct and their proper place in society.” The heiress batted her eyes, pouting her lips. “More tea?”
Most men would have at least pretended to look shocked and offended. Harry’s eyes narrowed and a slow grin bared his teeth. “I would love more tea…Clarice.”
Her name, spoken in that promising growl, made shivers of excitement run down her arms, and those firm lips slowly curling in promised retribution made her heart patter faster.
Well that wasn’t part of the deal she had envisioned.
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