By Richard’s reckoning, Parnell hadn’t given her a compliment but an underhanded barb. And while Richard, himself, found some of Miss Billings’ habits annoying, she was, in general, an artless, well-meaning sort of female. She did not deserve to be publicly insulted—and in front of guests who were, at that very moment, dining on her generosity.
“You look lovely, Miss Billings,” Richard said brusquely. “With or without the jewels.”
His hostess blinked, her jaw slackening.
“I agree, Gabby,” Miss Kent declared. “You look marvelous.”
She glanced at him—her tawny eyes surprised and… approving? Warmth spread through his chest like sunshine.
The others launched into superlatives about Miss Billings’ jewelry. Richard was no connoisseur of gewgaws, but even he could guess that her necklace must have cost a king’s ransom. Deeply hued sapphires, each the size of a thumbnail, were set in a web of icy, glittering diamonds.
“Now Miss Billings,” Monique cut in silkily, “with your earlier statement I must disagree. Everyone has secrets.”
The hum of conversation faltered; guests shifted in their seats. Richard guessed that the Frenchwoman’s pronouncement had made each and every one acutely aware of whatever knowledge he or she didn’t wish others to know. Memories of his rendezvous with Miss Kent smashed through his mental barriers. How indescribably good she had tasted, how soft and perfect she’d felt in his arms…
Beneath the table, he hardened with shocking swiftness.
“Well, I don’t have any. Truly,” Miss Billings chirped. “I’m ever so boring, nothing mysterious about me at all. Father says I’m like an open ledger…”
For once, Richard was grateful for the girl’s droning soliloquy. As she went on and on, it gave him a chance to recover from his disreputable state. He’d gotten to about half-mast when the soft underside of a slipper slid up his calf. All the muscles in his body went rigid; he shot a disbelieving gaze across the table. From the way Miss Kent was angled subtly forward in her chair, there was no doubt it was she who was caressing him under the table.
Good Lord, was sheplaying footsywith him?
Lust clawed at him. In an instant, he was rock-hard again.
She froze, her gaze lifting slowly to his. He didn’t have time to mask his reaction, the hunger raging through him. Her eyes widened… she lookedstartled? What the hell did she expect when making such a bold advance?
She sprang from her seat. Which obliged the gentlemen around her, himself included, to rise as well. He cast a quick glance downward; thank God his jacket hid his rampant cockstand.
“Pardon me,” she blurted.
Cheeks pink, she took off like a doe.
It took every ounce of his willpower not to follow her immediately. To track her down and finish what she’d started. But to do so would elicit talk… so he forced himself to bide his time. The ten minutes he waited felt like ten years. Finally, he excused himself. With anticipation roiling in his veins, he went in search of the naughty minx so that he could settle the score between them once and for all.
~~~
Violet walked through the halls of the mansion in an agitated state, barely noticing where she was going. She couldn’t believe what she’d done…again.Carlisle was like a bad luck penny. His mere presence brought out her worst behavior. First the fountain, then the Priest Hole, nowthis.
Her heart thumped with mortification. She’d only meant to give Gabby a nudge beneath the table—to keep her promise to stop the other from chattering on. But her foot had missed its mark. Drat Carlisle and his overly long and muscular legs!
Now he had further proof to use against her: more evidence that she was an improper hoyden—the awful flirthe’d accused her of being. Despair welled beneath anger; for once, she couldn’t keep it at bay.
Why, oh why, can’t I get anything right?
Her heart squeezed as she recalled how Carlisle had looked at her, his eyes forge-dark and smoldering, his nostrils flaring, that muscle ticking in his jaw… for one panicked moment, she’d feared that he might do something crazed. What, exactly, she didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. He’d looked like a man pushed to the very limits of his self-control.
Calm yourself. Pull yourself up by your slipper laces…
She tried telling herself that Carlisle was nothing but a judgmental ass. Yet over supper he’d shown surprising sensitivity and kindness toward Gabby. He’d stepped in, turning Parnell’s mean-spirited remark into a compliment.
So maybe he’s not always a judgmental ass,her inner voice amended.Only to you.
The notion offered no comfort. Dash it, why did Carlisle confuse and vex her so? Why did his opinion of her matter so much?
“For crumpet’s sake, stop obsessing over it,” she muttered to herself as she paced down the corridor. “Think of something else.”
Her thoughts veered to Wick, and worry for her friend distracted her from her own frazzled state. Thunder and turf, Wick had lookedterrifiedwhen he’d seen Garrity at the performance, as if his worst nightmare had come to life—and now she’d come to discover that Garrity was a moneylender?
