“No kicking, if you please, Miss Somerset. Now, I’ll let you go, of course. Just as soon as you hand over the book, that is.”
“I will not hand it over! I thought you were a gentleman, Lord Huntington.”
I did, as well.
Apparently things had changed. He’d come to Hampshire, and lost his mind.
“I don’t like to restrain you when you so clearly wish to be free.” It was true enough, though he didn’t mention he’d be delighted to restrain herwithher permission. “But I will see what it is that has you so distressed.”
He reached around her and managed to grab a corner of the book she still hid behind her back, but she began to thrash in his arms again, so Finn just held her, careful not to hurt her, but determined to keep her there until she either gave up or exhausted herself. When she loosened her grip on the book at last and sagged against him, he slid it out from between her limp hands and released her.
No doubt all the fuss was over a copy ofTom Jones, or at worst, Richardson’sPamela. He held it up so the light from the table fell on it.
When he read the title, he froze.
School of Venus.
He’d read it. Every boy who’d gone to public school had read it. It regularly made the rounds at Eton. It was a provocative bit of erotic literature presented as a book of instruction for a lady’s sexual edification, and Finn couldn’t deny any lady who read it would find it…edifying.
To say the least.
To say it was blunt was like saying water was damp, and fire was tepid. Lewd, vulgar, crude? Finn avoided judgments of that sort, given his own proclivities, but was it proper reading for an innocent, unmarried young lady like Miss Somerset?
God, no. Lady Chase would have an apoplexy if she knew her granddaughter had even got a glimpse of the frontispiece.
He raised his gaze to her flushed face, then looked back down at the book. His knuckles had gone white. “Where did you get this?”
She could have fled as soon as he let her go, but she hadn’t stirred a step. She still stood with her back pressed against the bookshelf, a defiant expression on her face. “I don’t choose to explain myself to you, my lord.”
He braced his hands against the bookshelf on either side of her shoulders, the offensive book still clutched in his hand, and leaned forward until his mouth was mere inches from hers. “I asked you a question, Miss Somerset. Where did you get this?”
But he already knew. There was only one person in this house so debauched he’d carelessly destroy a young lady’s innocence.
Wrexley.
Chapter Fifteen
Her chin rose in the air, but her throat rippled in a nervous gulp. “It was here, in Lady Hadley’s library.”
A rough, impatient sound tore from Finn’s throat. It was an enormous collection, and every Marquess of Hadley had no doubt had a hand in shaping it. It was likely true enough she’d found it here, but that didn’t answer his question.
“You would never have known to look for this particular book if someone hadn’t told you to do so.” Finn took her chin between his fingers and held it until she looked at him. “You think to protect him? It’s far too late for that, Miss Somerset. Wrexley’s fate is sealed.”
Finn didn’t give a bloody damn if Wrexley was Lady Honora’s much-beloved cousin, or if he was a guest in Captain West’s home. Wrexley’s smooth lies and charming smile wouldn’t save him this time.
But Miss Somerset was shaking her head. “No, you don’t understand—”
“No. It’s you who doesn’t understand.” Finn’s temper was fraying at the edges, and he couldn’t bear to stand here and listen to her make excuses for Wrexley’s perfidy. “My God, are you so naïve you can’t see what he’s doing? He’s trying to ruin you.”
“Ruin me, by directing me to read a book? That’s absurd, and it wasn’t even Lord Wrexley who—”
“No, by directing you to readthatbook. Don’t play with me, Miss Somerset. I saw your face when I walked in here tonight. You were so flushed I thought you were on the verge of a swoon.”
“A swoon?Is that what you think, my lord? That a proper lady should be so timid she falls into a swoon after reading a few salacious words?”
“Oh, Wrexley didn’t send you after that book because he wants a proper lady. If you bothered for even a moment to consider his motives, you’d see he’s trying to lure you into an indiscretion.”
She grabbed his wrist and jerked his hand away from her face. “So a man like Lord Wrexley lays a snare, and a silly, naïve chit like me must fall into it? Is that what you’re saying, Lord Huntington? Dear God, you really do think me an utter fool, don’t you?”
