Read Online One Dangerous Desire (Accidental Heirs) by Christy Carlyle - Free Book Online
Authors: Christy Carlyle
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to shelter her from Sedgwick’s failures.”
Even as he spoke practical words, May hovered in his mind’s eye. His own daydream of marrying her was folly now, as it had been then. More so. May Sedgwick wasn’t part of his plans. He needed a woman with connections, loyalties that ran blood deep. Despite her viscountess grandmother, she was an American seeking entry into London society, just as he was. If he wished to make amends for the past, the best course would be to wish May well when she married some fop with a title. The gossip rags loved title-for-fortune weddings, and news of such a match might knock news of her father’s losses off the front page.
So if she was not to be his, why did anticipation buzz through him at the prospect of seeing her again?
T ONIGHT SHE WOULD show the Earl of Devenham just how attentive she could be. May was determined the man should leave Ashworth House without a single doubt about her interest. She only hoped he could forgive her previous lukewarm responses and canceled invitations.
“He’s early.” Lady Emily tugged up her glove as she swept into the Ashworth drawing room.
May took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an attempt to settle her nerves before standing to smooth her gown. She’d worn the Worth crimson silk with ruby beading, velvet panels in the bodice, and a daring neckline. It was time to make an impression and catch something more than the Earl of Devenham’s mild consideration.
“Good evening, ladies.”
Her face began to tremble, and the smile she’d pasted on slipped. It wasn’t the affable earl but the serious and all-too-familiar Mr. Leighton. One look at him and her plans faltered. She’d known he’d be here. Prepared herself. Still, the sight of him unraveled her. Some part of her wanted to stare awhile, imprinting him in memory. A rogue rush of pleasure welled up each time she looked at him, despite how anger simmered underneath.
“Mr. Leighton, how clever of you to come early and avoid the crush.” Emily stepped forward to greet Rex just as her father strode into the room.
“Leighton, didn’t one of your famous countrymen have a saying about being early?” the duke asked as he shook Rex’s hand.
“Benjamin Franklin,” May cut in. “Early to bed, early to rise, but I think even he would have acknowledged that arriving early for a party only burdens one’s host.” Pain clutched at her chest, a hollowness behind her ribcage, and she hated the bitterness in her tone.
A bit of Rex’s cool composure faltered as he turned to face the duke. “My coachman prefers a breakneck pace, Your Grace, and traffic was surprisingly light this evening.”
“You needn’t explain, Mr. Leighton.” Emily covered May’s meanness with a light tone. “Miss Sedgwick and I were just saying that we prefer a small party, and now we shall have one for a while.” She strode to a tray covered with diminutive glasses of sherry glinting like garnets in the gaslight and began distributing them.
One sip and warmth seeped into May’s limbs, though it did nothing to fill the emptiness in her chest. She had to find a way to manage this ridiculous quivering whenever he was near. And the anger. Tonight she needed to charm, and there was no reason to allow Rex Leighton to ruin her plans. He wasn’t the man she’d come to beguile.
“It’s a fine strategy to arrive early and prepare for the evening’s pursuit, Leighton. Survey the field first, I always say.” The duke circled the room as he spoke, stopping to tilt a portrait straight and refill his glass of sherry. Then he pointed at Emily. “My daughter can tell you more about each of the ladies she’s invited. Focus on the titled ones, Daughter. Mr. Leighton is on the hunt.”
The duke’s instructions made Emily blush, and May wondered again about her friend’s first encounter with Rex at the National Gallery. Em had divulged only the barest details, focusing mainly on her interest in his plan for a
Even as he spoke practical words, May hovered in his mind’s eye. His own daydream of marrying her was folly now, as it had been then. More so. May Sedgwick wasn’t part of his plans. He needed a woman with connections, loyalties that ran blood deep. Despite her viscountess grandmother, she was an American seeking entry into London society, just as he was. If he wished to make amends for the past, the best course would be to wish May well when she married some fop with a title. The gossip rags loved title-for-fortune weddings, and news of such a match might knock news of her father’s losses off the front page.
So if she was not to be his, why did anticipation buzz through him at the prospect of seeing her again?
T ONIGHT SHE WOULD show the Earl of Devenham just how attentive she could be. May was determined the man should leave Ashworth House without a single doubt about her interest. She only hoped he could forgive her previous lukewarm responses and canceled invitations.
“He’s early.” Lady Emily tugged up her glove as she swept into the Ashworth drawing room.
May took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an attempt to settle her nerves before standing to smooth her gown. She’d worn the Worth crimson silk with ruby beading, velvet panels in the bodice, and a daring neckline. It was time to make an impression and catch something more than the Earl of Devenham’s mild consideration.
“Good evening, ladies.”
Her face began to tremble, and the smile she’d pasted on slipped. It wasn’t the affable earl but the serious and all-too-familiar Mr. Leighton. One look at him and her plans faltered. She’d known he’d be here. Prepared herself. Still, the sight of him unraveled her. Some part of her wanted to stare awhile, imprinting him in memory. A rogue rush of pleasure welled up each time she looked at him, despite how anger simmered underneath.
“Mr. Leighton, how clever of you to come early and avoid the crush.” Emily stepped forward to greet Rex just as her father strode into the room.
“Leighton, didn’t one of your famous countrymen have a saying about being early?” the duke asked as he shook Rex’s hand.
“Benjamin Franklin,” May cut in. “Early to bed, early to rise, but I think even he would have acknowledged that arriving early for a party only burdens one’s host.” Pain clutched at her chest, a hollowness behind her ribcage, and she hated the bitterness in her tone.
A bit of Rex’s cool composure faltered as he turned to face the duke. “My coachman prefers a breakneck pace, Your Grace, and traffic was surprisingly light this evening.”
“You needn’t explain, Mr. Leighton.” Emily covered May’s meanness with a light tone. “Miss Sedgwick and I were just saying that we prefer a small party, and now we shall have one for a while.” She strode to a tray covered with diminutive glasses of sherry glinting like garnets in the gaslight and began distributing them.
One sip and warmth seeped into May’s limbs, though it did nothing to fill the emptiness in her chest. She had to find a way to manage this ridiculous quivering whenever he was near. And the anger. Tonight she needed to charm, and there was no reason to allow Rex Leighton to ruin her plans. He wasn’t the man she’d come to beguile.
“It’s a fine strategy to arrive early and prepare for the evening’s pursuit, Leighton. Survey the field first, I always say.” The duke circled the room as he spoke, stopping to tilt a portrait straight and refill his glass of sherry. Then he pointed at Emily. “My daughter can tell you more about each of the ladies she’s invited. Focus on the titled ones, Daughter. Mr. Leighton is on the hunt.”
The duke’s instructions made Emily blush, and May wondered again about her friend’s first encounter with Rex at the National Gallery. Em had divulged only the barest details, focusing mainly on her interest in his plan for a
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