He helped her to her feet and then averted his gaze while she yanked and fussed with her dress until it had some semblance of order. There was nothing she could do with her hair except to jab pins at her escaped curls in a blind attempt to replicate the coiffure her lady’s maid had taken two painstaking hours to create, but as she was hardly renowned for her sleek, sophisticated style, she doubted anyone would notice a difference. Climbing a tree or being ravished in the drawing room; it made no difference to her outward appearance.
“There,” she said, a tad breathless. “How do I look?”
Adam turned his head…and the side of his mouth quirked in whatmighthave been a grin but was probably indigestion. “You’re missing a shoe.”
“I am?” She peered at her feet, and he was correct. Shewasmissing a shoe. It must have flown off when she hooked her ankle over his…well, suffice it to say that the shoe was gone. “I’m not sure where–”
“Here.” He bent over and retrieved her heeled slipper from behind a round table, then motioned for her to lift her leg. Balancing on the sofa, its fabric still warm from their impulsive act of lust, Eloise did as he commanded and shivered when his fingers glided along her instep. “There you are,” he said gruffly, his hand lingering on her heel a second longer than it needed to.
“There we are,” she echoed, even though she had no ideawherethey were, and if Adam’s wary expression was any indication, neither did he.
“We should probably–”
“I’m sure my sisters will be–”
They both stopped short.
“I don’t know if I want to be your mistress,” Eloise blurted as the wayward thought bubbled to the forefront of her scrambled consciousness. “I’ve heard that some women quite like it. But I…I don’t know if I’d like being at a man’s beck and call. Actually, I’m almost positive that I wouldn’t enjoy the position at all. I mean, I would enjoyit.” Her cheeks heated. “But I’d want some say in the matter. The when and the where and the how often. Could I decide? How have you done it with your other mistresses?”
“My other mistresses,” Adam repeated in a strangled voice.
She gave a vigorous nod. “Yes. Did you keep a calendar? Or show up whenever the mood struck you and the expectation was that your mistress would be readily available? But what if shewasn’tavailable? What if she was out for a walk? Or a swim?”
“A swim.”
“Iloveto swim,” she said, almost desperately. Anything, anything to fill the awkward silence that was sure to come as soon as finished speaking. “There’s a large pond by the house at Clarenmore Park. You have to chase off the ducks before you get it, and wade through some muck, but in the middle there’s an underground stream, and–”
“Enough, Eloise.” He held up his hand, his palm facing her. A row of callouses dotted the base of his fingers, the skin harder and tougher there than any gentleman’s. The skin of a man who was intimately acquainted with physical labor, and the burdens that came with it. “That’s enough. I am not seeking a mistress and even if I were, I wouldn’t choose you.”
Truth be told, Eloise didn’t know whether to feel relieved…or insulted.
After mulling it over, she decided on a bit of both.
“Why not?” She ran her tongue across the smooth backs of her teeth where his taste–mint, brandy, and the tiniest smidge of cigar–still lingered. “Don’t you like kissing me? You seem to like kissing me. Granted, I’m somewhat new to all this, but I’ve read books on human anatomy and I’m relatively certain that the growing size of your penis was a strong sign of–”
“For the love of God, do you ever stop talking?” A pained grimace rippled across his countenance before he pinched the bridge of his nose. “A young lady of your…your prestige should not be reading books like that. Or having clandestine meetings in a drawing room. Or discussing the practicalities of being a mistress!”
“Have you met me?” she asked with a skeptical tilt of her head. “I am theleastprestigious person in this entire building.”
“Yes,” he snapped. “And that’s why…never mind.”
Was that a flicker of vulnerability she saw? A sliver of a glimpse at the man beneath the cold-blooded arrogance and callous apathy? Adam was cloaked in more layers than Annabel in her grandest ball gown. But Eloise was starting to suspect that there was much more to the surly American than met the eye.
“We could start with being friends,” she said in a tentative offer of peace. “You and I.”
Adam looked at her as if she’d just proposed boarding a ship and setting sail for the moon.
“Friends? I don’t havefriends.”
Neither did Eloise.
Not really.
Not if she didn’t count her sisters.
She was too loud for women of her age. Too unpredictable. Too much ofthisand never enough ofthat. It was why she preferred the company of trees. They didn’t judge her. Or stare. Or mumble rude comments under their breath. They just let her be herself, in whatever shape that took. But when she was with Adam, shealsofelt like herself. A newly discovered version of herself where she could be as bold and passionate and outspoken as she wanted. And as much as she disliked him, she wasn’t quite ready to give that up.
“Tolerable acquaintances, then.” She tried a smile that he didn’t return. “Tolerable acquaintances that occasionally find themselves alone in a drawing room.”
