He swept his gaze back to the lady in question and saw that she studied him with open interest.
“Are you more comfortable now, Your Grace?” There was a hint of mischief to her voice that instantly filled his head with all sorts of lascivious ideas. Good Lord. This had to end.
“Perfectly so,” he murmured while doing his best not to wonder how long it would take to work through the buttons that ran down the front of her spencer. “Thank you.”
She dipped her head and said nothing further, but her gaze remained locked with his until they reached their destination.
9
What on earth was she doing?
Emily hadn’t a clue. All she knew was that she’d been completely bowled over by Stratton’s confession about her making him nervous. It was hard to believe she was able to have such a potent effect on anyone. But it had made her think over all of their previous encounters in greater detail.
What if his face hadn’t grown red with anger as she’d always believed, but rather because he’d been flustered?
She thought that adorable if it were true, though she’d never dare tell him as much.
Add to this the manner in which he’d held her after saving her in Hyde Park, the occasional touches he’d delivered while at the fair, and the distance he’d put between them after she had suggested a marriage between them would not be a love match but rather one of convenience.
All of it reminded her of Ada’s and Harriet’s words.
Perhaps they were right.
Maybe Stratton did have an interest in her beyond simply having her help him with Peter. And if so, wasn’t it worth exploring when she herself had recently realized she wanted more than friendship from him?
Wasn’t this what had caused her to come up with this insane idea of a fake courtship to start with? So they could play-act a little and maybe let their true feelings show?
It was all meant to be very proper of course. No impassioned lapses in judgement to put them at risk of actuallyhavingto marry. Unless they chose to.
If Stratton proposed, she wanted it to be from the heart.
The first part of her plan, to discover if he might be open to more than friendship with her, had presented itself when he’d asked to stretch out his legs. She’d imagined it might be like last time: comfortably reassuring.
However, she’d not anticipated his response, never mind the effect it had uponher.
With just one look, he’d turned her into a woman intent on seduction, even though she hadn’t the foggiest clue how to do it. Somehow, by simply responding to him, she’d figured it out though. If the heated look in his eyes was any indication.
She gripped her reticule firmly in her lap and stared straight ahead, at the man who sat before her, looking much like he tried to undress her with his gaze. Heat swept the back of her neck and her pulse quickened to such an extent it rendered her breathless.
The edge of his mouth rose with smug satisfaction, as though he knew precisely what he was doing to her and how needy it made her. Heavens, she actually wanted to pull him toward her and press her mouth to his.
Thank goodness Georgina was with her to stop her from being so brash.
The carriage began to slow. It pulled up in front of Seaton Hall’s entrance moments later. The door was opened and the steps set down. Stratton alit and turned so he could assist her. Their fingers touched, sending a jolt up her arm. She gasped, missed the next step, and fell.
A strong arm caught her and pulled her upright. She reached for support until her palm came to rest on a muscular chest. Tilting her head back, she stared into Stratton’s captivating eyes and saw temptation.
His hold on her tightened a smidgen. It seemed his throat worked as he swallowed.
“My lady,” he murmured right before easing her gently away and adding appropriate distance.
He helped Georgina next before offering Emily his arm. “Shall we?”
She accepted his escort, which kept her weak knees from buckling, and allowed him to guide her inside Seaton Hall’s medieval foyer. Tapestries hung on the walls, adding color to the otherwise grey granite stones. Emily’s heart ached at the sight of the flowers placed on display, precisely as her grandmother liked them.
“How is she?” Emily asked her grandfather when she and Stratton met him in the parlor.
“Much like yesterday,” Grandpapa said, his voice hoarse. “No signs of improvement.”
