Page 3
TWO
Still outside Roxina Danforth’s House
Blast and bunions.
Humor deepened the man’s baritone, laced with the merest hint of mockery.
Aubriella knew that voice.
Bracing herself, she raised her gaze to meet Jackson Matherfield’s sinfully beautiful hazel eyes, ringed with dark blue and fringed with ebony lashes.
No man should possess eyes that stunning.
It wasn’t right.
If she were a typical female, she might’ve been jealous or ensnared by their beauty.
Except, she recognized the rakish cynicism glinting in his eyes that most other ladies missed in their mutton-headed ogling. Jackson Matherfield viewed life through sardonic lenses, was seldom serious, and was a roué from his charmingly mussed hair to his highly polished Hessians.
Furthermore, this man liked nothing better than to tease and taunt her.
Well, he wouldn’t ruffle her today. Mustering every ounce of poise she possessed, Aubriella greeted him cooly. “Mr. Matherfield.”
He gave a dramatic sigh as he steadied her, his grip firm yet gentle.
“How many times must I ask you to address me as Jack?” Then the bounder dared to wink as if they were close acquaintances or intimate friends.
“We’ve known each other most of our lives.”
True, but that didn’t mean she had forgiven the cad for tormenting her for almost as long.
He’d intended to be annoying but, in truth, he’d done her a great favor.
A smile tried to twist her mouth upward, but Aubriella wrestled her mirth under control.
Jack mustn’t think he amused her.
Gads, he was intolerably arrogant as it was. She didn’t want to imagine how impossible he would become if he believed she felt anything but disdain toward him. His teasing would increase exponentially.
In truth, the frogs, bugs, snakes, and even the occasional fossil, animal bone, or skull he presented her as a child hadn’t frightened her or caused her to cry, shriek, or run away. Instead, she’d examined each one with the diligence of a trained scientist until, at last, he recognized she enjoyed the opportunity to study the creatures that were otherwise off-limits to little girls of genteel breeding.
Not only did Jackson Matherfield live next door to the house she was about to enter, but he was also a bosom chum of her brother, Emmet. Aubriella had known Jack for over fifteen years, and he still vexed her to no end.
He skimmed that gorgeous gaze over her new redingote.
“That berry shade suits you, Aubrie.”
Only he ever called her that.
Those closest to her addressed her as Elli.
Irritation and impatience stirred in her belly whenever he murmured the name in that seductive purr. It had always been thus between them. They were as different as oil and water or sugar and vinegar, and would never mix well.
“That’s not my name, and I’ll thank you not to address me as such.” Taking the handsome devil to task, when she didn’t give a goose’s hind end about convention most of the time, screamed irony.
The upward skewing of his nicely—fine, perfectly—shaped lips revealed he thought as much, too. Those lips locked on Francine’s perfect rosebud of a mouth popped into Aubriella’s mind. Any sensual musings she might’ve indulged in plummeted to her half boots, encasing her rather cold toes.
“Visiting Miss Danforth?” he asked conversationally. The breeze teased the midnight hair, brushing the back of his collar and sent a delicious whiff of tantalizing cologne in her direction.
