Read Online Lord Heartless by Tessa Berkley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tessa Berkley
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Mother about this.”
“It is all right, besides he is yet a boy. A very frightened boy,” she added. “Who thinks his place in his father’s household has been threatened.”
“Alexander has nothing to fear from you.”
“I know that. You know that. He has yet to learn. I will strive to let him see that I shall not steal his place in the line of succession.”
“You are too good-hearted. Drink?” He moved toward the sideboard out of habit.
Her head jerked and her eyes took on a hollow, wounded look. Landon wanted to slap himself. Her father’s death no doubt turned her against spirits. He was behaving foolishly. “Sorry. I did not think.”
“Please, feel free to enjoy. It is your habit after all.” She waved her hand at the chest against the wall holding a decanter of spirits.
Her words cut him to the quick, proving again he was unworthy of such a fine pearl. “Uh, no. I had a small glass downstairs. Waiting.”
She looked at him with a befuddled expression. He wished he’d worn a coat, something with pockets so he might have something to do with his hands. This will never do . He could not explain he wished to give her time to ready herself for his arrival. Instead, he said, “My mother seems quite taken with you.”
“That is good to hear. I enjoyed her company.”
“Indeed.” If Black were here, he would be in corner, doubled in laughter . Lord Montague, rake extraordinaire, reduced to a few rambling words. He sighed and raised his hand to sooth the hair on the back of his head. “I am not good at this, am I?”
“You’re not?”
He could see disbelief mirrored in her eyes. Sheepishly, he lifted his shoulders with a shrug. “I’m afraid I have let you down.”
Her arms loosened and she relaxed, letting them fall to her sides. “Perhaps, it is the situation we find ourselves embroiled in.” She stepped to the side of the couch. “Would you join me, Lord Montague?”
Seizing his chance, Landon responded, “Of course.”
He moved to the other side of the settee and waited until she sat down before lowering his body to the cushions. Funny, in all his years, this must have been the first time he’d ever indulged. The fabric cool and crisp, not yet bent from repeated use. Perchance that would change? Maybe tomorrow, he would take his leave after supper and spend the night up here with her. His gaze shifted across the space of another cushion to the woman beside him.
Tonight, her hair lay in soft waves down her long, slender back. He wondered if the texture would be like silk, smooth and luxurious. Dare he? Taking a deep breath, he leaned back and extended his left arm along the sofa back. He heard her take a slight breath of air as she clasp both hands tightly against her knees, so cleverly concealed beneath her wrapper. Tonight, no gossamer fabric was more alluring than this country maid’s proper cotton gown. His glance moved toward her face, caressing each curve, pausing to watch the lift of her breasts as the fabric pulled tight, an obvious sign of her nervousness.
“Juliet,” he whispered her name and with a tender touch reached out and let his fingers brush against the loose gold. The shoe slid to the other foot. A rush of desire roared through his veins to settle heavily in his groin with the decadent need to feel the silk sweep against the hairs of his chest. “Did you enjoy dinner?”
She tucked her chin slightly toward her chest and those blue-green eyes turned to gaze at him. “Your cook should be commended for a beautiful meal.”
He smiled. “I will relay the lady’s wishes.”
There was a smile upon her lips, yet he detected an unknown strike of steel in her reserve. His hands stopped in mid twist of a curl about his finger. “Juliet, is there something wrong?”
“In truth, my lord, I believe there might be a misunderstanding that needs to be addressed before this marriage goes forward.”
Her words brought a tightening to his lungs. For a moment,
“It is all right, besides he is yet a boy. A very frightened boy,” she added. “Who thinks his place in his father’s household has been threatened.”
“Alexander has nothing to fear from you.”
“I know that. You know that. He has yet to learn. I will strive to let him see that I shall not steal his place in the line of succession.”
“You are too good-hearted. Drink?” He moved toward the sideboard out of habit.
Her head jerked and her eyes took on a hollow, wounded look. Landon wanted to slap himself. Her father’s death no doubt turned her against spirits. He was behaving foolishly. “Sorry. I did not think.”
“Please, feel free to enjoy. It is your habit after all.” She waved her hand at the chest against the wall holding a decanter of spirits.
Her words cut him to the quick, proving again he was unworthy of such a fine pearl. “Uh, no. I had a small glass downstairs. Waiting.”
She looked at him with a befuddled expression. He wished he’d worn a coat, something with pockets so he might have something to do with his hands. This will never do . He could not explain he wished to give her time to ready herself for his arrival. Instead, he said, “My mother seems quite taken with you.”
“That is good to hear. I enjoyed her company.”
“Indeed.” If Black were here, he would be in corner, doubled in laughter . Lord Montague, rake extraordinaire, reduced to a few rambling words. He sighed and raised his hand to sooth the hair on the back of his head. “I am not good at this, am I?”
“You’re not?”
He could see disbelief mirrored in her eyes. Sheepishly, he lifted his shoulders with a shrug. “I’m afraid I have let you down.”
Her arms loosened and she relaxed, letting them fall to her sides. “Perhaps, it is the situation we find ourselves embroiled in.” She stepped to the side of the couch. “Would you join me, Lord Montague?”
Seizing his chance, Landon responded, “Of course.”
He moved to the other side of the settee and waited until she sat down before lowering his body to the cushions. Funny, in all his years, this must have been the first time he’d ever indulged. The fabric cool and crisp, not yet bent from repeated use. Perchance that would change? Maybe tomorrow, he would take his leave after supper and spend the night up here with her. His gaze shifted across the space of another cushion to the woman beside him.
Tonight, her hair lay in soft waves down her long, slender back. He wondered if the texture would be like silk, smooth and luxurious. Dare he? Taking a deep breath, he leaned back and extended his left arm along the sofa back. He heard her take a slight breath of air as she clasp both hands tightly against her knees, so cleverly concealed beneath her wrapper. Tonight, no gossamer fabric was more alluring than this country maid’s proper cotton gown. His glance moved toward her face, caressing each curve, pausing to watch the lift of her breasts as the fabric pulled tight, an obvious sign of her nervousness.
“Juliet,” he whispered her name and with a tender touch reached out and let his fingers brush against the loose gold. The shoe slid to the other foot. A rush of desire roared through his veins to settle heavily in his groin with the decadent need to feel the silk sweep against the hairs of his chest. “Did you enjoy dinner?”
She tucked her chin slightly toward her chest and those blue-green eyes turned to gaze at him. “Your cook should be commended for a beautiful meal.”
He smiled. “I will relay the lady’s wishes.”
There was a smile upon her lips, yet he detected an unknown strike of steel in her reserve. His hands stopped in mid twist of a curl about his finger. “Juliet, is there something wrong?”
“In truth, my lord, I believe there might be a misunderstanding that needs to be addressed before this marriage goes forward.”
Her words brought a tightening to his lungs. For a moment,
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