Mr. Lowell’s gaze deepened. “Please excuse us,” he said without taking his eyes off hers. And then, to her shock and dismay, he grabbed her hand and drew her away from her friends without saying another word.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Spiriting you away.” He pulled her along at a purposeful stride, through a doorway, down a corridor and into a vacant room. Shutting the door, he turned to her, and expelled a series of heavy breaths.
Viola’s stomach started to twist itself into several knots when she saw the look in his eyes: stormy, desperate, half mad with need. He looked like a man who’d been starved for a month and was in dire need of finding a meal. It was unlike anything she’d ever witnessed before, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. So she just stood there saying nothing and waited for him to explain.
He stared back at her in silence, until she thought he might not say a word. But then he raked his fingers through his hair, disturbing the neatly combed locks and causing a few to spill over his brow. He started to pace while muttering something she could not hear. Pausing, he seemed to consider what to do next before taking a step toward her. His jaw was tight, his eyes holding her captive with deep intensity.
“Viola.” Her name was hoarsely spoken. It drifted between them like a prayer and a promise. His fingers touched her hand, slowly as if to test her reaction. When she failed to pull away, they wove between hers, binding them together.
“What are you doing?” Her voice wasn’t nearly as strong as she’d hoped. It matched her weak knees and the butterflies soaring about in her belly.
“Trying to understand.” His throat worked with rough little movements. “You saw me when you arrived, Viola, but rather than come to greet me, you turned away and then pretended not to know I was here.”
“I believed you were fully occupied.” In spite of her effort to sound nonchalant, hardness curled around each word.
Realization flashed in his eyes and the agitated expression he’d been wearing since entering this room was replaced by profound interest. He took a step closer—so close she could feel the warmth of his body against her own.
“You saw me with the Earl of Hedgewick’s daughter, Lady Regina, and imagined the worst.” A smile pulled at the edge of his mouth and his eyes suddenly brightened. “You’re jealous.”
“I most certainly am not.”
Mr. Lowell, damn him, grinned. “You absolutely are. It’s evident the way your eyes narrowed when I mentioned her name.”
Deciding she did not have time for this, what with guests to attend to, Viola took a step back, intent on pulling away and adding some distance between them before quitting his company. But the moment she tugged on her hand, he tightened his hold and pulled her flush up against him.
A whoosh of air escaped her lungs when her softness made contact with his solid chest. Instinctively, her free hand rose to clasp at his shoulder in a desperate attempt to steady herself. A brief moment of surprise followed until she managed to come to terms with what had happened and the fact that she now found herself embraced by a strong wall of muscle.
God help her.
Somehow in the midst of it all, he’d released her hand and wound both arms around her, encasing her in his warmth and infusing her with his scent. Viola dared not move. Least of all when she felt the press of his palm against the small of her back. It slid slightly lower, and to her dismay she found that she did not want it to stop. Rather, she longed for him to explore her more fully, to touch her in ways she’d not wanted to be touched in years.
“I want to make something abundantly clear,” he murmured close to her ear while his other hand traced a lazy path along the length of her spine. “You are the only woman I want, Viola. There is no other, no reason for you to worry I might have lost interest, for I can assure you that interest in you is the last thing I’m lacking.”
She wanted to believe him. “How do I know you’re not toying with me?”
He leaned back, and when he met her gaze, his expression was grave. “Because you’ve gotten to know me.” The words were spoken honestly, without any hint of pretense. “Search your heart, Viola, and ask yourself if you trust me.”
She didn’t need long to consider. “I trust you completely.” The realization steadied her soul and quieted the riotous emotions she’d experienced earlier.
His nostrils flared. “Since announcing my intention to wed, I’ve been visited by numerous parents hoping to secure a match for their daughters. Lord Hedgewick is no different. He insisted I keep Lady Regina company while he went to converse with a friend. As transparent as it was, I could hardly abandon the poor woman. She’s only recently made her debut.”
“How anyone ever believed you to be a scoundrel is unfathomable.”
“You did.”
“That was before I got to know you.”
“And now that you have?”
She paused as if caught at the edge of a precipice. “I don’t know. I think I need time to untangle my emotions and figure out what I truly want.”
He was quiet for a moment and then he nodded. “Take as long as you need, Viola. I’ll wait.”
She swallowed, a little undone by his understanding. “I probably ought to get back to my guests.”
“Very well.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and kissed her fondly. As if he had not just toppled the last of her barriers. He squeezed her shoulder, released her and added distance. The edge of his mouth lifted and he was suddenly smiling. “You are right. There’s a party for us to attend, and if you are not otherwise engaged, I would like to invite you to dance with me, Duchess.” He winked and Viola laughed, unsure of how he managed to ease her concerns with such seemingly little effort.
