Page 86 of Scandalous

“It is an idiom, a style of speaking that does not always mean what the words say. For example, down at the heels means to be experiencing hard luck. I am sure there are many idioms in French, but I cannot think of one right now.”

Martín closed his eyes for a long moment and then opened them and smiled. “I have one. Avoir du chien. It says ‘to have the dog,’ but really it means to be a very attractive woman.”

Sarah pursed her lips. “I believe you just made that up.”

“No, no, it is true. I have heard it many times.”

“But it is ridiculous.”

He shrugged. “Tell me, what is ‘on the shelf’?”

“It means to be past one’s prime.”

He gave her a look that seemed to burn the clothing from her body, and Sarah’s heart pounded as if it would burst through her bodice.

“Now that, mademoiselle, is what I would call ridiculous. You are in your prime.”

“Women in England are generally married before they are twenty,” she explained, her voice oddly scratchy. She cleared her throat. “I am considered a spinster.”

“You are young and fresh, like a flower whose petals are only now opening.” His eyes settled on her bosom, which expanded and froze under his inspection. A slight smile flickered across his lips before he lifted his eyes. “And what of men? What is the age when they are put on a shelf?”

“Men are considered to be much like wines; they only improve with age.”

He threw back his head and laughed.

Pride spiked in her fluttering chest; she’d finally made him laugh.

“But not all wines, eh, Sarah? Some go bad, I think?”

Her face heated, as it usually did when she was in his company. Whatever did he mean? She decided not to find out. “Tell me more about your house, about Oak Park. What do you do when you go there?”

“Mostly I authorize bank draughts. I am in the process of completing new stables, which is apparently more costly than building a cathedral.” He gave her a dry look. “I feel as if I am single-handedly lifting England from its economic doldrums.”

“All work and no play?”

“I did explore the house and grounds when it became freakishly warm one afternoon, warm enough that I could take a swim in the small pond.”

Unbidden images of water sluicing over the hard, powerful contours of his body filled her head. Her breasts, which she usually did not notice, became heavy and full, making her bodice unbearably tight.

He leaned closer, his forehead creased with concern. “You are flushed, mademoiselle. Are you unwell?”

“No, no, I am fine,” she said hoarsely. “I just find it rather warm suddenly.”

Martín glanced around the table at the other guests. “They are certainly raising the temperature with their discussions.”

“Yes, the Mantons enjoy a lively atmosphere,” she agreed, glad he’d shifted his disturbing attention elsewhere.

Olivia Manton was scolding the Marquess of Exley on some point or other, and it was the first time Sarah had ever seen the haughty-looking man smile. Even his wife did not abuse him with the same enthusiasm as the two sisters. He appeared to blossom under their teasing and mockery.

“He looks almost human, does he not?” Martín observed, following her gaze.

“I believe this is the first time I’ve seen him smile.”

“His wife makes him smile often enough.” The not-so-subtle innuendo sent a pulse of heat straight to her clenched thighs. She realized Martín was staring at her with an odd, almost questioning look. She swallowed several times before she could speak.

“You know them quite well?”

“We spent quite a bit of time together on my ship several years back. It was a very tense time for Exley and his wife. I daresay all of us probably know too much about one another after such a close journey,” he admitted, a strange twist to his lips. “But enough of that. I want to make sure I secure a dance with you for the night of your ball before they are all taken.”