The hairs on her arms stood, and a tingling rippled over her. She felt like a nude painting on display as two pairs of eyes surveyed her. One pair was midnight black, the other arctic blue, and neither welcomed.
She sat straighter, and hoped she could hold a full, intelligent conversation with this living, breathing historical relic without giving everything away.
Minerva asked about her friends, and Haven thought of Elleane and Rhiannon. They were probably worried sick about her, losing their minds looking for her. When they’d fail to find her at theCarnal-val, they’d report her missing. They’d be desperate to find her, and send out the hounds to track down any clue to her whereabouts. It was difficult to sit calmly at a dinner table and chitchat with strangers when her friends were searching for her. It had only been three days, but her friends knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t just disappear without telling them. They would know something was wrong, but they wouldn’t even begin to consider that she’d stolen an enchanted pocket watch, and traveled back in time to 1817. They’d assume she’d been kidnapped, or killed, or both.
Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes. She snatched the starched napkin from her lap, and dabbed at the wetness threatening to spill down her cheeks.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was it something I said? Are you all right?” Minerva asked with concern.
Haven replaced the napkin on her lap, and nodded, “I miss my friends.”
A curious gleam married with the look of sympathy in the other woman’s eyes. “Is there a special suitor, someone you left behind?”
That’s a loaded question.Two pairs of curious male gazes burned into her. “Well, err, there was someone, but he and I didn’t work out. We went our separate ways, and I am much happier without him.”
Hell, yes!
Grateful that her answer defused some of the rising tension, Haven had the overwhelming urge to punch two grown men in the face.
Despite the obvious attraction between her and Logan, he didn’t have the right to be jealous. As for Angelous Kroger, hewas one hot mess, orcoldmess, rather, and didn’t even have the right to look at her sideways. Both men needed to be taken down a notch or two, or fourteen.
Her skin nearly jumped clear of her bones when the man beside her broke his long, eerie silence.
“Miss Edwards.” Her name sounded ill-used and hollow on his lips. “How long are you visiting?” He’d asked an innocent enough question, but the interest behind it was palpable. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but he gave her the creeps. Too perfect, too chilly, and too focused on her. Why did he fixate on her? She’d only met the man two hours ago. They had a short and awkward meeting. Unfortunately, Millie seated her beside him, so she’d made small talk with him, and endured his intense presence.
His strange gaze produced pin pricks along her spine.
Watching him watch her, she realized he was waiting for an answer.
“Well, I’ve only been here a few days, but I don’t plan to stay long. I have to get back to my life in America.”
Where the creeps are held in check by posted club rules, and a healthy fear of castration by three large men wearing tiny black t-shirts, tattoos, and expressions of diabolical glee.
“As Miss Hughes pointed out, I do have dear friends I left behind, and I know they miss me.”
More likeIam missing and they’re trying to find me.
She bit her lip to stop the trembling, and struggled to keep the tears in check.
He wiped at his mouth with a dinner napkin, and locked his focus on her. “Why the rush? You haven’t experienced what this splendid country has to offer.” His smile was brilliant, but didn’t reach his eyes.
Is he flirting with me?She wanted to bolt for the stairs, but something clicked in her mind.
Let’s make this interesting.
She smiled sweetly, and purred, “Oh, I don’t know. Aren’t there areas of England I should avoid? Especially places here in the country filled with wild beasts with razor sharp claws, wicked teeth, and nasty attitudes. Some of them can kill you—at least you’d lose a finger. Or something vital.” She said the last word while staring pointedly at his crotch.
In for a penny....
She wanted to smile at the shock on his face. Apparently, he wasn’t used to dealing with a woman like her. Hell, in 1817, she was a novelty.
Glaring at her from beneath is platinum brows, he answered, “Yes, so it would seem.” His clipped reply said more than what was spoken. That alone cooled her demeanor, taking her down a few notches from the haughty woman bent on cashing payback checks on Angelous and Logan.
Like icy water to the face, realization doused her in its cold reality. She’d just insulted one of Millie’s guests, at the duke’s table, in a house where she was uninvited. The heat of utter shame bloomed over her.
After her embarrassing interlude, she spent the remainder of her first dinner party staring at her place setting. Counting, and recounting the tines on her forks.
When the footmen removed the last traces of dinner, Millie stood.
