She slid him a coquettish glance and fluttered her long, dark eyelashes. “Oh, would you? How kind you are, sir.”
Cam let his gaze drift from her eyes to her plump, red mouth. Perhaps he should try and convince her he detested flirtatious, forward ladies—the kind of lady who let a gentleman kiss more than her hand, or who sat on his lap during a drive through Hyde Park . . .
His body snapped to such sudden, aching awareness at the thought he was forced to abandon it at once, or else be obliged to cover his lap with the edges of his coat for the rest of the afternoon. Instead he lifted her gloved hand and gave it a reassuring pat, which would have been innocent enough if he hadn’t also stroked a thumb across her palm. “Not at all, my lady.”
Her dark eyes flashed, but she recovered at once and managed to disguise her reaction with a simper.
Tilly, however, wasn’t so forgiving. “Keep your hands to yourself if you don’t mind, Mr. West.”
Cam turned to her in surprise. He was so distracted by Lady Eleanor, he’d forgotten Tilly was there. The woman hadn’t said more than two words since they left, but now he found her eyes narrowed on him, as if she thought he’d try to ravish Lady Eleanor right here in the carriage. The thought may have crossed his mind, but he wouldn’t even get his lips on the lady’s gloved hand with Tilly’s beady gray eyes on him.
“Ah. Here we are.” The driver brought the carriage to a halt on the drive. Cam alighted and held out a hand to assist Lady Eleanor, who couldn’t quite disguise her hesitation at touching him. He hid a smile, helped her down and offered his hand to Tilly, who eyed it with a pinched expression, then clambered down without his assistance.
He tucked Lady Eleanor’s hand into his elbow and started to walk, leaving Tilly to stalk after them. Unless he was mistaken, they’d out-distance the older woman before they reached the bend in the river.
“Tell me, Lady Eleanor, do you often walk in Hyde Park?”
She gave him a bright, meaningless smile. “Oh, yes. There always seems to be some gentleman or other about who wants to escort me.”
Fascinating, the way every word she spoke now seemed heavy with hidden meaning. She meant for him to realize she was surrounded by gentlemen who wished to court her, and she regarded him as no more significant than any of the others.
She’d soon find out otherwise. “Do you wish to walk with them?”
She hesitated, then shrugged, as if the thought had never occurred to her. “They wish to walk with me, and I have no objection to it. Oh, look at the ducks! Aren’t they precious?”
“Perfectly so, yes.” Cam didn’t spare the ducks a glance. “What do you do, Lady Eleanor, when you’re not accommodating the wishes of all these gentlemen you mention?”
“Do?” Her mouth fell open a little at the idea she might do anything at all once the gentlemen in question had disappeared.
Cam glanced at her mouth again and his breath came shorter, as if a fist were squeezing his lungs. Did she believe her half-open mouth would persuade him of her witlessness? All it did was make him think of her tongue.Damnation.This had been easier when she bored him into unconsciousness.
He cleared his throat. “I suppose you must spend time with your nephew?”
“Yes, I do. He’s precious.”
Cam drew in a deep breath and tilted his head back to gaze at the tree branches above them. They hadn’t yet walked ten paces, and already this felt like the longest walk he’d ever taken. “What sorts of things do you do with your nephew, then?”
“Oh, I play with him. He has the sweetest little toy boat, you know. It’s. . .” She paused, as if she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
“Precious?”
“Yes!” She beamed at him. “Just so.”
Good Lord. She was far too good at this. He knew she was performing, yet even so his brain was turning into pudding. “It must be gratifying for a family like the Sutherlands for Lord Carlisle’s wife to have so quickly produced an heir.”
She paused just long enough for Cam to grow wild with impatience to hear how she’d manage to answer such a pointed question with a few bland words.
“Gratifying?” she asked, with the air of one who wasn’t sure of the meaning.
He almost smiled. She was determined not to reveal a thing.
He wanted to revealher. Explore her every word, every thought, every maddening half-smile. He wanted to bare her from her hairpins down to her slippers, slowly, until she stood exposed before him.
Metaphorically, that is.
For now.
“Yes, my lady. Gratifying. Satisfying. Surely you know what it feels like to be satisfied?”
