Gone was the adolescent ingenuousness and naïveté that had made him feel as if he were a depraved old roué for acknowledging even the tiniest bit of attraction for such an innocent gamine.
Gone, too, was the broad, welcoming grin and worshipful light in her green eyes that had always greeted him in the past.
Indeed, this poised, stunning woman before him was piercing him with an icy glare that openly desired nothing more than his immediate embarkment on a swift journey straight to a fiery hell.
“Fiona,” Aylesbury said roughly, then cleared his throat and corrected himself.“Lady Fiona.”
One brow lifted, arching with contempt.
She had always been difficult, the minx.He tried once more.“How nice to see you again.”
Full, rosy lips that had always before softened with affection at the sight of him compressed into a tight line much as they had the previous night before Fiona turned on one heel and marched away—again—without sparing him a word.
“I’m so sorry, my lord,” Eve was already apologizing for her sister-in-law’s behavior before those blue skirts had completely disappeared from sight.“It is not at all like Fiona to behave so.I don’t know what prompted such rudeness.”
Regrettably, Aylesbury did.
Chapter 8
...and the number of calves expected in the Devonshire herd this spring has the potential to increase the herd by nearly a third.The tin mines near Liverpool have recorded a record quarterly profit.The annual accounting should go well for the estate.
Were my courtship of Moira only going so well.While Aylesbury longs for a mistress, I can tell it will not find one in Moira MacKenzie.She is plainly nursing a tendre for Vin MacKintosh, and surprisingly, the realization does not pain me.I can also tell from Vin’s moony-eyed sullenness at the theater this evening that my presence at her side rankles him deeply...all the more reason to continue as payment for mucking up my plans.But there will be another lady come along one day and I am in no hurry to wed without mutual affection.
There was another thing about this evening...Bah!I am a cad for even allowing the thought to cross my mind!
~From the correspondence of the Marquis of Aylesbury—Jan 1893
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“Lady Fiona...”
Fiona ignored him and hurried up the next flight of stairs as quickly as she could without tripping on her skirts, which she already held high above her knees.More than likely, Aylesbury was getting an eyeful of her embroidered silk stockings and bejeweled leather boots, but she couldn’t care what parts of her body were bared as long as she was well away from him.
“Fiona, please wait!”
“I have nothing to say to you, Lord Aylesbury,” she called over her shoulder, disgusted with herself for even speaking so many words to him.
