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Authors: Valerie Bowman
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bothered him. First, he couldn’t seem to shake the memory of their kiss. And second, there was something about Frances that he just liked, damn him, her little episode in Avery’s study last night, notwithstanding. She never failed to surprise him. And he liked that about her. He liked it very much.
The image of Lady Harcourt came to mind. She’d wanted him to kiss her as well. Why that woman thought she was interested in him, he’d never know. Perhaps it was simply because she knew she couldn’t have him. Whatever the reason, he was not interested. She struck him as someone with a nasty disposition, and he’d never cared for unhappy people. Frances, on the other hand, was extremely happy. But that wasn’t all. Yes, she made him laugh, but she’d also made him hard. In fact, he’d had an awfully inappropriate dream about her last night. One he couldn’t shake the memory of this morning. He’d never had such uncontrollable thoughts about a woman.
Frances had wanted to speak to him about something last night; she’d said as much. Perhaps he’d seek her out today. Just to see how she was doing. Merely to ask what she had wanted last night. That was all.
CHAPTER 15
When the butler announced that Mr. Charles Holloway was in the foyer waiting to pay her a call, Frances could have been knocked over by a puff of air.
“By all means, show him in,” she said, righting her skirts and smoothing a finger over her brow. Oh, I’m being ridiculous . Primping myself .
If she’d learned anything last night after her confounding turn at eavesdropping and tumble into Lord Avery’s study, it was that her suspicions were right. Clearly Charlie preferred the company of men. She’d been certain he’d been about to kiss Lord Avery or at least do something inappropriate. They’d been talking about secrets and counting on each other, hadn’t they?
Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts. It wasn’t just that. There were other things too. Like that night on the balcony at the Wilmingtons’ ball. Now that she thought on it, when she’d asked Charlie about Lady Lenora being beautiful that night, he’d answered, “Only if you like that sort of thing,” didn’t he? Of course at the time she hadn’t thought much of it. He’d gone on to tell her she was beautiful, in fact. But, looking back, knowing what she now knew, it was quite incriminating. Those two things, coupled with Annie’s suggestion that Charlie didn’t like women and Lady Lenora’s rumors, and Frances was quite convinced.
So why was Charlie here? The man wasn’t interested in her and wasn’t going to be. But she couldn’t help wanting to look her best in front of him. Silly, perhaps, but true. Maybe he’d come to talk about Annie and Lord Ashbourne’s wedding.
When Charlie entered the room, Frances couldn’t help feeling the tug of attraction. The butterflies scattered in her stomach too, those confounded insects. Attracted to a man who didn’t prefer women. She had seriously gone mad. She shook off the unhelpful thought and concentrated on pinning a bright smile to her face, watching as Charlie made his way over to the settee to bow over her hand.
“Miss Birmingham,” he said. “So good to see you.”
She gestured to the chair to her right. “Please, Mr. Holloway, have a seat.”
Charlie sat and Frances sat up straight and blinked at him. Her gaze roved over his high cheekbones, wavy dark hair, and the oh-so-irresistible cleft in his chin. He was too good-looking by half. It was really too bad. “Care for some tea, Mr. Holloway?”
Charlie leaned toward her. “No. Thank you. I came to … That is to say I … I wanted to see how you were doing. After last night, I mean …”
“Right as rain, I assure you,” she replied in an animated voice.
Her chest ached. She understood now why he’d come. He knew she’d seen him with Lord Avery and he wanted to make certain she wasn’t shocked, or offended, or worse, intending to tell
The image of Lady Harcourt came to mind. She’d wanted him to kiss her as well. Why that woman thought she was interested in him, he’d never know. Perhaps it was simply because she knew she couldn’t have him. Whatever the reason, he was not interested. She struck him as someone with a nasty disposition, and he’d never cared for unhappy people. Frances, on the other hand, was extremely happy. But that wasn’t all. Yes, she made him laugh, but she’d also made him hard. In fact, he’d had an awfully inappropriate dream about her last night. One he couldn’t shake the memory of this morning. He’d never had such uncontrollable thoughts about a woman.
Frances had wanted to speak to him about something last night; she’d said as much. Perhaps he’d seek her out today. Just to see how she was doing. Merely to ask what she had wanted last night. That was all.
CHAPTER 15
When the butler announced that Mr. Charles Holloway was in the foyer waiting to pay her a call, Frances could have been knocked over by a puff of air.
“By all means, show him in,” she said, righting her skirts and smoothing a finger over her brow. Oh, I’m being ridiculous . Primping myself .
If she’d learned anything last night after her confounding turn at eavesdropping and tumble into Lord Avery’s study, it was that her suspicions were right. Clearly Charlie preferred the company of men. She’d been certain he’d been about to kiss Lord Avery or at least do something inappropriate. They’d been talking about secrets and counting on each other, hadn’t they?
Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts. It wasn’t just that. There were other things too. Like that night on the balcony at the Wilmingtons’ ball. Now that she thought on it, when she’d asked Charlie about Lady Lenora being beautiful that night, he’d answered, “Only if you like that sort of thing,” didn’t he? Of course at the time she hadn’t thought much of it. He’d gone on to tell her she was beautiful, in fact. But, looking back, knowing what she now knew, it was quite incriminating. Those two things, coupled with Annie’s suggestion that Charlie didn’t like women and Lady Lenora’s rumors, and Frances was quite convinced.
So why was Charlie here? The man wasn’t interested in her and wasn’t going to be. But she couldn’t help wanting to look her best in front of him. Silly, perhaps, but true. Maybe he’d come to talk about Annie and Lord Ashbourne’s wedding.
When Charlie entered the room, Frances couldn’t help feeling the tug of attraction. The butterflies scattered in her stomach too, those confounded insects. Attracted to a man who didn’t prefer women. She had seriously gone mad. She shook off the unhelpful thought and concentrated on pinning a bright smile to her face, watching as Charlie made his way over to the settee to bow over her hand.
“Miss Birmingham,” he said. “So good to see you.”
She gestured to the chair to her right. “Please, Mr. Holloway, have a seat.”
Charlie sat and Frances sat up straight and blinked at him. Her gaze roved over his high cheekbones, wavy dark hair, and the oh-so-irresistible cleft in his chin. He was too good-looking by half. It was really too bad. “Care for some tea, Mr. Holloway?”
Charlie leaned toward her. “No. Thank you. I came to … That is to say I … I wanted to see how you were doing. After last night, I mean …”
“Right as rain, I assure you,” she replied in an animated voice.
Her chest ached. She understood now why he’d come. He knew she’d seen him with Lord Avery and he wanted to make certain she wasn’t shocked, or offended, or worse, intending to tell
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