In all my seasons, no boy had ever taken my breath away, not even Blake, but the poets could write sonnets about this boy’s jawline, sharp cheekbones, and sculpted lips. The romantics would marvel over the jewel-bright glint of those thick-lashed eyes, where blue was too prosaic a word to describe them, and the warm glow of his russet-brown skin, which would make a person dream of sun-kissed beaches and balmy summers.
When he cleared his throat, I gulped and tore my gaze from the mesmerizing landscape of his face. He pushed a thick book toward me with one finger. “Your required reading for this weekend. I expect a lively discussion first thing on Monday.”
Jolted out of my trance, I glanced down—its spine was as wide as my forearm. “This weekend…this whole book?” I mumbled dully.
His blue irises lit with no small degree of satisfaction, and I cringed inwardly. That haughty expression could rival any condescending blueblood in theton. “Did I stutter? Didn’t you just boast that you could handle anything I threw your way?”
“I…” My cheeks flamed as I faltered for words with growing distress at the fact that hehadoverheard me and that my bold boast had earned me a task that would take hours to complete. “I beg your pardon, sir?”
“No apology needed. Simply complete the reading and we won’t have any difficulties. Monday, Lord Ansel,” he said, his eyes falling back to his own open book in a clear dismissal.
“Roz,” I choked out. “Name’s Roz.”
I don’t know why I told him that—maybe it was my small attempt to control this untenable situation.
He didn’t answer, though he speared a piece of fruit with a fork and ferried it to his lips. I should have taken the volume and left, but instead, senselessly captivated, I stared at his mouth like a smitten fool while he bit into the triangle of pear. He licked the juice off his lower lip, and my entire chest clenched in visceral response.
What would it be like to feel that mouth pressed to mine? To kiss him? The warmth in my cheeks suddenly spread everywhere, from the tips of my ears to my shoulders and torso. My skin felt like it was cinching tight over my bones.
“Lord Ansel?”
My gaze snapped to his in utter mortification at being caught ogling him like some desperate lecher. Heavens, what was Idoing? “Yes?” I croaked.
He was frowning. “Is there a problem?”
“No, none.” I forced my face to convey nothing but cool hauteur, though my insides were churning with shame. Hastily, I snatched the book and hurried away on unsteady legs before I could be caught doing something infinitely worse.
Like swooning.
Chapter Four
Oh, Diamond! Diamond! Thou little knowest what mischief thou hast done!
—Isaac Newton
Curse this deuced cravat!
Divesting myself of all my garments, including the blasted garrote of a neckcloth and the troublesome, badly fitting eyeglasses that transformed me into Lord Ansel Chen, I sank into the bathtub in my chambers at Delmont Park with a loud, happy sigh. While I loved being at Trinity College in my tiny room and living the true life of a university student, washing in a basin with cold water was not ideal. And despite having a chamberpot in my quarters, I’d been properly horrified at the idea of relieving myself in the public privies.
Thatwould never happen.
I sighed again as my parched skin soaked up the unscented water like a desiccated sponge. I’d had to forego my usual rose-scented soap, but that was a small sacrifice. Though I washed myself properly every day, nothing could compare to a long, hotsoak. I recognized the privilege for what it was, and for once was deeply grateful for my station and the luxuries it afforded me.
Anna massaged her fingers into my scalp as she lathered my long hair with the soap my cousin usually used, which smelled of lemon and bergamot. My waist-length tresses hadn’t been properly washed for days, and considering they had been tucked up under a wig and then under a hat, it was a wonder they weren’t more of a snarly, smelly mess. The relief of not having the tightness of the wig pressing onto my skull felt glorious.
“How was your first week?” Anna asked quietly, with an eye on the other maids bustling about my chamber. “I still cannot believe no one recognized you or knew you were a lady.” Her hushed voice sounded scandalized.
Though she was part of the subterfuge, she hadn’t been shy in sharing her worry for me…and for what the possibility of discovery could do to my reputation as well as her position in my father’s household, should he find out she’d been complicit in my scheme. But he wouldnotfind out, and even if he did, I would make sure that Anna was free of any blame.
“Neither can I,” I replied, and then stared grimly at the heavy book resting on the chair near the armoire. Normally, I would be thrilled at the prospect of official study, but there was no chance ofanyonegetting through that entire tome in three days. St. Clair wanted to humble me; I was sure of it. I exhaled and felt the start of a headache. “I suppose it went as well as could be expected—I have a ridiculous amount of reading to complete before the start of next week. An entire book, in fact.”
“Good thing you love reading, my lady.”
I grimaced. “This, unfortunately, is more of a punishment. I fear I didn’t start off on the right foot with my tutor.”
“How so?” she asked.
I sighed. “Apparently, he had an altercation with Ansel in the past, so he already does not esteem me. I fear we are bound to be enemies, which does not bode well for my plans.”
