Page 71 of Her Royal Houseguest

‘Except you. For such a beautiful woman, you hide from the attention.’

She heard the question in his voice but also the compliment. He thought her beautiful. She flushed with pleasure.

‘I live in terror of making a mess of things. I am back—’

‘Do not say it!’

She cut off her word, flushing as she revised her statement. ‘I often make mistakes. And when I do, everyone talks about my curse.’

‘When was the last time you made a public mistake?’

She chuckled. ‘Besides laughing during a waltz with you?’

He drew back. ‘That was not a mistake. That was joy.’

‘That’s not what everyone else said.’

‘Then they are fools but I am not.’

She smiled. ‘Very well. The last time…’ Her voice trailed off. ‘I’ve been very careful this Season. There have been no notable missteps.’

He leaned back on the couch, his gaze hooded. ‘Tell me of your mistakes. Teach me what is allowed in England.’

‘You will be allowed a great deal. But I am an unmarried lady.’

‘Even so. Tell me.’

She nodded. Matching his pose, she began listing her sins. They were burned in her memory and came with blushes and embarrassed chuckles. He listened carefully to each one, laughing where appropriate but steadily dismantling all her mistakes.

A misstep during a dance, a forgotten person’s name, a stumble in the park because she’d been looking elsewhere. All these sins, enumerated for him and each one laughed at in the kindest possible way.

The more she explained them, the more she realised that her errors were things that were common to everyone. It was only because her family thought her cursed that every mistake was magnified. But if there was no curse, if she were not backwards, then she made common errors of inattention, of forgetfulness, of simple overwhelm.

She did not mention her errors from sabotage. She was well rid of Mrs Barker, though her mother mourned the woman’s absence. Too bad. The family needed a housekeeper, not another crony for her mother.

‘Do you see?’ he finally asked her, as her litany of sins slowed down. ‘Do you see that you are no more backwards than another but because they think curse—’

‘It becomes true.’ She nodded. ‘Yes, I see that now.’ More importantly, she believed it. She felt the truth of it inside herself. She was not cursed. She might be built backwards but it was not a curse.

‘Thank you,’ she said, gratitude welling up inside her.

‘Thank me by helping me buy English clothing.’

‘With pleasure.’

‘And by allowing this,’ he said. He caught her chin with his fingers and drew her close for a kiss.

She allowed it. Of course, she did. She’d wanted to kiss him for the last hour. And now that his mouth was pressed to hers, she could finally sink into exactly what she really wanted.

Him.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Deva should not be kissing his host’s daughter. He should not have given in to the lust that coursed through him whenever she was near. But he could not deny how attractive she was to him. He saw in her things that he admired. The determination to keep going even when everything seemed stacked against her. The desire to do what was right despite the futility of her efforts. Her family did not see her skills and actively undermined her efforts. Yet she had not turned shrewish. She was poised, kind and—most shocking of all—completely unaware of her value.

That was about to change. She was not cursed or backwards or whatever nonsense everyone had spouted around her. She was beautiful and smart, and he wanted her as he had never wanted another woman before.

So he kissed her. He used his lips and his tongue to explore her mouth. His fingers stroked the heated velvet of her jaw and neck, trailing down her shoulder to the edge of her bodice.