Read Online Never Lie to a Lady by Liz Carlyle - Free Book Online Page B

leg off his roast chicken. “I hoped he had cast aside the notion.”
    “Surely—” Xanthia’s voice hit an oddly sharp note. “Surely, Kieran, you cannot be serious about this?”
    “He asked permission to court you,” said Kieran more firmly. “And I put him off. I suggested he find someone younger, and more biddable. Besides, he clearly knows next to nothing about you, Zee, so—” Suddenly, he halted. “I hope, my dear, that I have not misinterpreted your feelings for the fellow?”
    Xanthia shook her head. “No.”
    No. The answer was definitely no . And now the only feeling Xanthia was suffering was the slightest sense of light-headedness. Lord Nash must be perfectly mad. Had he really believed he had somehow tainted Xanthia’s precious virtue? With just a kiss ?
    But it had not been just a kiss, had it? At the mere memory, a faint tug of desire went twisting through her, ratcheting up her breath. Xanthia closed her eyes. Good Lord, if she allowed herself to think of it, even for an instant, she could still feel that sweet, languorous yearning which his mouth and his touch had aroused. It made one think of candlelight, and of soft linen sheets, and of…
    No. It was not just a kiss. And Nash was right. Had it been Lady Louisa whom he had so flagrantly caressed on the terrace last night, Sharpe would have had him leg-shackled before noon. And he would have deserved it, for Louisa was obviously an innocent. But Xanthia was not—and therein lay all the difference. She marveled that Nash had not noticed it. Perhaps he had. Perhaps that was why he had begun to fear the snap of a parson’s mousetrap.
    Kieran was looking at her strangely.
    Xanthia took up her fork and forced a bemused expression. “Lord Dark-and-Dangerous,” she murmured. “Why do you call him that?”
    Kieran forked up another bite of chicken. “I find a malevolent sort of air about the man,” he said after thoughtfully chewing it. “He isn’t English, either. Or perhaps I should say English is not his first language. Did you notice?”
    Xanthia’s eyes widened. “You may be right,” she answered. “I have rubbed elbows with sailors so long, I pay scant heed to a faint accent.”
    Kieran looked introspective. “Well, wherever he is from, I am not sure I care for his effrontery,” he remarked. “I believe I shall ask Sharpe about the man’s character.”
    “Oh, pray do not.” Xanthia frowned at her brother. “Indeed, I forbid it.”
    “You forbid it?” Kieran shot a dark look across the table, then relented. “Well, suit yourself, Zee. It’s your wedding, not mine.”
    “It isn’t anyone’s wedding,” she insisted.
    “And you did not answer my question about Gareth, my dear,” he went on. “I hope I need not remind you that Gareth is still our dear friend. Indeed, he is all but family to us both.”
    “What are you trying to say, Kieran?” she demanded.
    “Just do not hurt him, Zee, any more than is absolutely necessary,” said her brother quietly. “If you do not mean to have him, then tell him plainly.”
    Xanthia dropped her fork. “I have told him plainly,” she said. “I have been telling him for about half a decade now, Kieran. Kindly hush about Gareth. I have something far more important to discuss.”
    “Have at it, my dear,” said her brother, his tone instantly lightening. “But for God’s sake, do not speak to me of Neville Shipping, or of what you and Gareth have been about all day. I should rather hear an alphabetical recitation of the Westminster tax rolls.”
    Xanthia shot him a chiding look. “I wish to speak to you of Pamela,” she said. “And do listen, Kieran, if you please. It is important.”
    Now that she was over the shock of seeing Nash again, all of Xanthia’s fear and excitement over Pamela’s situation sprang forth anew. But it took her all of half an hour to explain Pamela’s predicament, and enlist her brother’s cooperation. It came grudgingly, for Kieran had not the