He slowly shook his head. “No, but it is humbling to realize how often I’ve taken reading for granted. It’s a remarkable thing you’re striving to accomplish here, Miss Trewlove.”
“It’s a small thing really. I appreciate how you helped me earlier when I stumbled.”
His gaze roamed slowly over her face as though he were searching for something. “Why did you stumble?”
Because I find myself drawn to you and in two nights, I’ll be at a ball hoping to garner the favor of some lord—
“Whew, it’s ’ot in ’ere, id’n it?” Lottie asked as she wedged herself between Fancy and Mr. Sommersby, who was forced to take a step back to avoid having the woman pressed up against him.
Fancy watched in fascination as Lottie gave freedom to three buttons on her bodice and then trailed her finger over the exposed flesh. “Would ye loike to go outside, ’ansome, where it’s a bit cooler?”
“No, thank you.”
She shifted her gaze to the side, to Fancy. “She’s a proper lady, she is. She won’t even give ye a kiss.”
Fancy nearly shoved the woman aside in order to prove her wrong by latching her mouth on to Mr. Sommersby’s. That thought brought her up short. Whatever was wrong with her? Was she truly thinking of kissing him? She couldn’t deny wondering what it might be like to have his mouth pressed up against hers. “I would very much hate to have to report your inappropriate behavior to Beast. You might want to do yourself a favor by returning to your studies.”
Lottie winked at Mr. Sommersby. “Ye might get that kiss ye be wantin’ after all.”
She sauntered away, her hips swaying in such an exaggerated fashion that Fancy was surprised the woman didn’t harm herself. Her parting words made it difficult to meet Mr. Sommersby’s eyes. Instead she settled on studying his chin. It was one of the finer examples of nature doing its best work. It jutted out, not too much, but enough so it didn’t become lost in the muscles of his throat. It fanned out into a strong, square jaw, well-defined but then everything about him was.
“We should probably return to our lessons now.” She despised how her voice sounded almost meek, a tiny bit breathless.
“She wasn’t half-wrong, you know.”
Her gaze did jump to his then. “About it being hot in here?”
“About my wanting to kiss you.”
Chapter 10
He shouldn’t have said it, but hell, it was hard not to want to devour her mouth when the woman was passionate about every damn thing in her life. He watched her turn red and nod jerkily, before she mumbled something about getting back to work. Then she gathered her students around her like a goose her goslings—or perhaps a knight his armor. He’d unnerved her, which hadn’t been his intention. Yet, he’d felt a need to at least confirm he was drawn to her.
Did she truly think that men attending the ball weren’t going to want a taste of that luscious mouth? That any gent in her company wasn’t wondering what it might be like to press his lips to hers, urge them to part, and slide his tongue inside in order to know fully the velvety confines within and the taste of her?
If his thoughts continued on this path, he was going to grow hard and embarrass himself. The doxy would certainly notice and no doubt call attention to him or at least tease him unmercifully later. So he focused on her hair, the silkiness of it, and how the heavy black strands would flow over his hands if he removed the pins holding them in place. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. That foray certainly hadn’t helped matters.
So he concentrated on the fact that her attention wasn’t on him, was on the others as they struggled to make sense of the words that told the story of a young girl who dreamed of attending a ball and capturing the attention of a prince—very much as Miss Trewlove dreamed of capturing the attention of a lord at her upcoming ball. He imagined her being whisked over the dance floor, the joy that would light her eyes, the smile she would bestow on her partner. She would meet more than a handful of other gents, become enamored of them, and perhaps one would take her for a ride in a hot air balloon—if he cared enough to learn about the things she might enjoy. If she wasn’t merely a dowry to fill empty coffers. If they would look beyond her birth in order to appreciate the remarkable woman she was.
She had the skills and intelligence to successfully manage a bookshop. She had the generosity of spirit to make books available to those who couldn’t afford them. She sought to better the lives of the overlooked by giving them the gift of reading. She didn’t sit in judgment of people, not even women who earned their keep upon their backs. She was goodness, and kindness, and saw the best in those around her.
Becoming aware of the echo of books closing, he realized he’d lost his way in the narrative, hadn’t been listening as passages were read. Not that it mattered, not tonight. He wasn’t a tutor, merely an observer.
People stood. Offering words of encouragement, she hugged each one before they began wandering toward the door. She even had something reassuring to say to the pupils Mr. Tittlefitz had worked with. While the secretary began tidying up, spreading chairs throughout the room, not having to bother with the refreshments because the footmen had cleared all that away before taking their leave, she turned to Matthew. “What do you think?”
“It’s a commendable endeavor.”
“Will you be part of it?”
He gave a brisk nod. “On the nights when you’re not available.”
Her beatific smile nearly dropped him to his knees. Did she have to be so bloody grateful?
“He’s going to assist you, Mr. Tittlefitz.”
“Jolly good.” The man’s tone lacked enthusiasm, and Matthew was left with the impression the fellow didn’t think it was good at all. “I’ll see you Wednesday, then. Good night, Miss Trewlove, Mr. Sommersby.”
“Enjoy the remainder of your evening,” she encouraged him.
