He bowed, a smile that hurt her heart curving his mouth. “You breakfasted early this morning.”
She had been unable to sleep well the night before, after the bland manner in which he had treated her at dinner, but she was not about to admit as much to the stunning example of masculine perfection before her. “I breakfasted when I rose.”
How inane, this conversation. What was the purpose? Her cheeks were burning. He had kissed her, but he kissed many ladies. It had been no declaration of love.
“Earlier than you typically do,” he said.
And he was right; her descent to the informal breakfast sideboardhadbeen earlier this morning than it ordinarily was. But what did it mean, that he had noticed such an insignificant detail about herself? Unless…
Her witless words of the day before returned to her with a humiliating sting.Rescue me any time.
What had she been thinking, to be so forward? To reveal so much?
He likely wanted to inform her of his distinct lack of interest. To suggest the day before had been an aberration. That she could have been any lady in that lake, and he would have kissed her just the same.
She crossed her arms over her traitorous bosom, which tingled with remembrance of every manner in which his rigid body had been connected with hers just a day before in the lake at her back. “It hardly signifies, my lord.”
“Sidney.” He stepped nearer.
“I beg your pardon?”
All it took was his proximity, that vibrant, emerald gaze so potent and probing on hers, and she went weak. He made her heart pound. She wiped her sweaty palms on her dress and hoped he would not take note.
“You may call me Sidney,” he said, still not touching her.
But close. Too dangerously close.
“Why should I do that?” she asked.
And then could have kicked herself.
“My lordseems terribly formal. Does it not?” His smile deepened, and so too did the divot in his chin.
He was so dratted handsome. And a rogue. She knew that. Whilst she was hardly dazzling. Flame-haired and speckled. As gaudy as a rooster but not nearly as pretty as one.
“It seemsappropriatelyformal,” she told him coolly, doing her utmost to keep the manner in which he affected her from her voice and expression.
Her pride demanded it.
The tattered remnants, that was.
“I should think us beyond formality.” He took another step.
This one brought his polished boots into contact with the hem of her promenade dress. It brought with it his bay scent and leather and musk. Bay leaves and spice. Wonderful man. Unforgettable man. Shelbourne.
Sidney, whispered that same, forbidden voice.
She dared not call him by his Christian name. Did she?
“Why should you think that?” Julianna asked.
“Yesterday.” His gaze slipped to her mouth, lingered there. “What happened between us…it was unpardonable of me to act in such an ungentlemanly fashion toward you. However, I would like the opportunity to make amends for my egregious behavior.”
“By asking me to call you by your given name?” She licked her lips, doing her utmost to remain unaffected by the way his stare was lingering upon her. “That hardly seems like making amends.”
“By marrying you.”
His bald pronouncement could not have shocked her more.
