Page 28

“Indeed. A terrible blemish caused by soup. I needed to change it before anyone else might discover it.”

Ready to tell him how absurd he was behaving—and to ask what the real reason was for him to leave the dinner table—Clara peered up at him, only to realize how very close she’d come to stand before him, their faces a mere few inches apart.

Her breathing halted, and the air thickened. Mr. Cole’s eyes, a dark, rich brown, focused on her, and his smile faded, creating an intensity in his gaze that stirred a reaction deep in the base of her stomach.

Clara was frozen to her spot, captivated by the look as he tipped his head to the side. He leaned an inch closer, which finally brought Clara’s sense rushing to the forefront of her mind.

He was a gentleman, and she was now a maid. A maid who needed to keep her position at Bellthorne Hall.

Snapping out of the haze he’d swept around her like some sorcerer, she frowned, stepped back, and shook her head. “Excuse me, sir, but I must be about my duties,” she repeated.

He cleared his throat, blinking twice before his smirk returned. Clearly, he hadn’t been affected as she had been. “But that is just the thing, Clara. I’ve a duty for you to perform.”

“What duty?” she asked suspiciously.

At once, he seized her wrist and pulled her around the corner. “Come with me.”

Indignation swirled within her as she realized what he was intending. “Why, I never—Mr. Cole, this is entirely—How dare you⁠—”

She couldn’t finish a single sentence, aghast at the nerve of the man and simultaneously distracted with the tingling numbness of her bare wrist against his gloveless hand. What could he mean by acting in such a forceful way?

Finally, he stopped around the corner where more privacy was had, pulled her to stand against the wall, blocked her from retreating, and released her. Then he had the nerve to begin loosening his cravat.

“This is highly inappropriate,” she whispered, spitting out each word with vehemence as her fury grew by the minute. “If you think this is going to happen, you are sorely mistaken, sir.”

“You told me you had duties to see to as a maid,” he said, clearly enjoying the grief he was putting her through. “It is time to prove it.”

“This is hardly one of my duties. If her ladyship knew of your actions, she would⁠—”

“Support them fully.”

Clara’s eyes widened. “She certainly would not.” He continued loosening his cravat, her heart racing. “I cannot understand what has caused you to single me out in such a way, Mr. Cole, but I will not stand for it.” She tried to sidestep him twice, but each time, he prevented her retreat. “Let me pass. Now.”

He finally managed to untie the fabric, still smiling innocently. “Not until you’ve done your duty, Clara.”

His lips curved, an alluring half-smile coaxing her to admit that he was, indeed, the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His hair flopping over his brow screamed of a boyish nature, and yet, the lines splaying out at the sides of his eyes and his set jaw defiantly pronounced his mature, manly nature.

Far more than the foppish Mr. Agar whom Algernon had tried to force her to marry. Mr. Agar, with his round face and watery eyes and thin lips.

Not like Mr. Cole’s. His lips were firm and perfectly masculine. A kiss from him would surely feel...

She blinked the image and subsequent feelings away. “If you think I’m going to kiss you, Mr. Cole—or worse—you’ve truly lost your senses, sir.”

“Kiss you?” He slowly slid off the cravat and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt—appearing quite like he had that moment outside of his bedchamber.

How unfortunate she didn’t have her slop bucket now.

“Why, Clara,” he said, dipping his chin to look down at her in disappointment, “you must pull your thoughts from such despicable imaginings. I was merely going to ask you to perform your duty as a maid and see my cravat is washed and returned to me before the end of the evening.”

Clara froze against the wall. That was not...Surely that wasn’t what he’d been...Had she truly been mistaken?

“Although,” he continued, “if you’d rather perform whatever duty you were imagining, I’m more than happy to oblige. I must admit, it does sound more appealing.”

The mischief flooding his chocolate eyes told her everything she needed to know. All of his actions had been intentional.

She scowled. “You are despicable.”

He chuckled. “For behaving like a gentleman?”