It was. It felt like warm silk under his fingertips.
Why are you touching her?
Ciaran jerked his hand away. “I know you didn’t mean anything, Lucy. I’m sorry. I wrote to my sister last night and asked her to write back at once, telling me everything she knows about Lord Godfrey. I won’t leave London until I hear back from her.”
He thought she’d be pleased, but her brows drew down in a frown. “I don’t want you to stay here for me, Ciaran. I don’t want to be the reason you’re made unhappy.”
“It’s a brief delay, Lucy, nothing more. You can’t think I’d leave you alone in London with no one to protect you.”
“I’m not alone. I have Eloisa, and Lady Felicia, and Lord Vale.”
Lord Vale? What did she mean, shehadLord Vale? “What’s Vale got to do with anything?” Ciaran demanded, then flushed at his outraged tone. For God’s sake, he sounded like a jealous suitor.
Lucy didn’t seem to notice. “Well, nothing yet, but I was thinking over my idea to stage a pretend courtship to hold off Lord Godfrey. It’ll be a bit tricky to pull it off, but I quite like it, otherwise. I think it might work.”
Ciaran froze. It almost sounded as if…
No. She couldn’t be suggesting what it sounded like she was suggesting.
Could she? “Once again, Lucy. What’s Vale got to do with it?” Ciaran’s voice had dropped to a low growl.
“I don’t know Lord Vale well, of course, but Lady Felicia was speaking of him, and I couldn’t help but think he sounds like just the sort of gentleman I need.”
Need? SheneededVale? Something dark and tangled rose in Ciaran’s chest and crowded into his throat until he was struggling to breathe past it.
“I know he’s a bit of a rake, but he’s warm-hearted, I think, and Lady Felicia says he loves mischief. He might think a pretend courtship was good fun.”
Ciaran’s hands clenched into fists. Oh, he’d find it good fun, all right. A pretend courtship with a beautiful lady was just the sort of fun Vale would appreciate.
He knew he wasn’t being fair to his friend. Vale might get up to some questionable behavior now and again, but he was no worse than Ciaran was. Lucy was right about him—Valewasa good fellow. He’d never hurt Lucy. Would never dream of taking advantage of her.
Ciaran knew that. At the moment, however, he didn’t give a bloody damn.
Courtships meant dances, stolen touches, longing glances. Courtships meant whispers, and secrets, and soft smiles. Anything could happen during a courtship, even a pretend one. Two people who had nothing in common could find themselves falling in love.
Lucy was still talking, unaware of the spark she’d lit, oblivious to the fact it was about to burst into a conflagration. “We’ll have to be careful. I won’t have every gossip in London whispering Lord Vale’s a scoundrel who jilted a young lady. It’s sufficient if my uncle and Lord Godfrey believe the courtship is real. The rest of London doesn’t need to hear of it.”
Heat burned up Ciaran’s neck, flooded his chest. Why was he so angry? Why—
“So, I thought I might…”
Don’t say it.
“Ask him if he…”
Don’t say it, Lucy.
“…would pretend to court me. It would be the easiest thing in the world, really, given my and Eloisa’s friendship with Lady Felicia. We’re sure to spend all our time with Lord Vale anyway, so you see it’s…”
“No.” Ciaran pushed the word through tight lips.
She didn’t appear to hear him. “It’s just the thing. I’ll speak to Lady Felicia about it first, of course, to make sure she approves. Eloisa won’t like it, but nor would she like to see me married to Lord Godfrey. I think I can bring her around.”
Ciaran came to a dead stop in the middle of the street. He turned Lucy toward him and raised her face to his with a firm finger under her chin.
“Ciaran?” She stared up at him, baffled. “What’s wrong? You look strange.”
“You arenot,” he said, biting off each word through clenched teeth. “Asking Sebastian Wroth to pretend to court you.”
