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Authors: Vanessa Kelly
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she couldn’t help feeling defensive. “I’m sure you exaggerate, sir. I’m no more or less admired than dozens of other women in our circles.”
Since her coming-out, she’d grown used to hearing herself described as one of the most eligible young ladies in society. But at age twenty-four she was perilously close to sitting firmly on the shelf. Add to that her decidedly unfeminine prowess at the card tables and the rumors that dogged her family, and Vivien found it safe to say that her star had long since started to fade.
“I commend your modesty, Lady Vivien, but it’s neither necessary nor helpful. I need truth from you, not missish protestations we both know aren’t true.”
She flinched at the dry, almost scornful note in his voice. It didn’t make sense given his careful consideration of her up to this point. But he’d obviously heard something about her that had given him a bad impression, and that stung her more than it should.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared back at him. “What do you wish to know, sir?” she said in a clipped tone.
He held her gaze, his hard-cut jaw darkened by masculine stubble that made him look dangerous and rather wild. The look suited him, she was sorry to say.
“Who are your most persistent suitors?” he asked. “Are there any whose conduct unsettles you, or gives you pause for any reason?”
She was about to return an automatic denial when she paused. The suspicions that had floated through her mind while still a captive resurfaced. She’d discarded them almost immediately, simply because they didn’t make any sense.
St. George leaned forward, coming to alert. Vivien could practically sense the change in the atmosphere, and it made her shiver.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s nothing. I thought perhaps—”
“Someone made you nervous,” he said in a milder voice. “Who was it?”
This time she did fidget with the ruffle on her mantle. “It’s nothing, really. In fact, it would be ridiculous to suspect him of anything.”
“I understand, but it’s necessary that you tell me. For your own safety,” he finished on a warning note.
He was obviously trying to scare her into revealing something useful. Blast him, it just might work.
Unexpectedly, he smiled. She had to admit it was a very charming smile.
“Yes, I am trying to scare you, my lady. Just a little. I don’t enjoy doing so, in case you were wondering.”
She nervously licked her lips, once more discomposed by his ability to see past her defenses. Vivien had spent years perfecting an impervious façade, but he took it apart with uncanny ease. Nor did it help her equanimity to see his gaze go suddenly dark and smoky, drifting down to study her mouth.
“Yes, well, I’m sure,” she said, struggling to regain her composure. Easier said than done, since her temples were starting to pound from exhaustion and her ears were ringing.
“You can trust me, you know.” His warm, easy tone wrapped around her like a comfy blanket. “I will only share what you tell me with Sir Dominic.” A slight smile lifted the corners of his hard, handsome mouth. “I will not break the seal of the confessional, I promise.”
She blushed. He’d risked his life for her. Of course she trusted him.
Up to a point.
“Very well. I did think of someone, but it’s too ridiculous. He’s very rich and very important, and I can’t imagine him behaving in so outrageous a fashion.”
“You’d be surprised at the acts carried out by rich, important men.”
His cynical tone sounded a warning bell in her weary brain.
“You’re right of course, Mr. St. George,” she replied cautiously.
He again flashed that unexpected grin. “There’s no need to keep calling me Mister St. George will do nicely. Now, why don’t you tell me who ruffled your nerves?”
She grimaced. “I thought at first that Prince Ivan Khovansky might have been behind my abduction. But of course that’s ridiculous.” She sat
Since her coming-out, she’d grown used to hearing herself described as one of the most eligible young ladies in society. But at age twenty-four she was perilously close to sitting firmly on the shelf. Add to that her decidedly unfeminine prowess at the card tables and the rumors that dogged her family, and Vivien found it safe to say that her star had long since started to fade.
“I commend your modesty, Lady Vivien, but it’s neither necessary nor helpful. I need truth from you, not missish protestations we both know aren’t true.”
She flinched at the dry, almost scornful note in his voice. It didn’t make sense given his careful consideration of her up to this point. But he’d obviously heard something about her that had given him a bad impression, and that stung her more than it should.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared back at him. “What do you wish to know, sir?” she said in a clipped tone.
He held her gaze, his hard-cut jaw darkened by masculine stubble that made him look dangerous and rather wild. The look suited him, she was sorry to say.
“Who are your most persistent suitors?” he asked. “Are there any whose conduct unsettles you, or gives you pause for any reason?”
She was about to return an automatic denial when she paused. The suspicions that had floated through her mind while still a captive resurfaced. She’d discarded them almost immediately, simply because they didn’t make any sense.
St. George leaned forward, coming to alert. Vivien could practically sense the change in the atmosphere, and it made her shiver.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s nothing. I thought perhaps—”
“Someone made you nervous,” he said in a milder voice. “Who was it?”
This time she did fidget with the ruffle on her mantle. “It’s nothing, really. In fact, it would be ridiculous to suspect him of anything.”
“I understand, but it’s necessary that you tell me. For your own safety,” he finished on a warning note.
He was obviously trying to scare her into revealing something useful. Blast him, it just might work.
Unexpectedly, he smiled. She had to admit it was a very charming smile.
“Yes, I am trying to scare you, my lady. Just a little. I don’t enjoy doing so, in case you were wondering.”
She nervously licked her lips, once more discomposed by his ability to see past her defenses. Vivien had spent years perfecting an impervious façade, but he took it apart with uncanny ease. Nor did it help her equanimity to see his gaze go suddenly dark and smoky, drifting down to study her mouth.
“Yes, well, I’m sure,” she said, struggling to regain her composure. Easier said than done, since her temples were starting to pound from exhaustion and her ears were ringing.
“You can trust me, you know.” His warm, easy tone wrapped around her like a comfy blanket. “I will only share what you tell me with Sir Dominic.” A slight smile lifted the corners of his hard, handsome mouth. “I will not break the seal of the confessional, I promise.”
She blushed. He’d risked his life for her. Of course she trusted him.
Up to a point.
“Very well. I did think of someone, but it’s too ridiculous. He’s very rich and very important, and I can’t imagine him behaving in so outrageous a fashion.”
“You’d be surprised at the acts carried out by rich, important men.”
His cynical tone sounded a warning bell in her weary brain.
“You’re right of course, Mr. St. George,” she replied cautiously.
He again flashed that unexpected grin. “There’s no need to keep calling me Mister St. George will do nicely. Now, why don’t you tell me who ruffled your nerves?”
She grimaced. “I thought at first that Prince Ivan Khovansky might have been behind my abduction. But of course that’s ridiculous.” She sat