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Authors: Cassidy Cayman
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her, the monster, and she didn’t know whether to feel insulted or complimented. Her damn cheeks felt hot just because he’d said she was lovely.
“And now flattery. Sir, you are a rogue, indeed.” Lizzie was flustered, not sure if he was teasing her.
His smile seemed open and guileless, but her pounding heart warned her to run. Everything seemed suddenly dangerous, their shared laughter, the stories of their childhoods, the fact that she was beginning to like him as if he were a real person and not some historical figure she might read about when she made it home.
She got up in a hurry, nearly knocking her chair backwards, and nodded curtly at him. “Good night, Mr. Ferguson.”
He blinked and his smile faltered, almost as if she’d hurt his feelings. Hell. She had to get out before she reached out to soothe his troubled brow. Her hand acted on its own accord and actually reached out for him. She turned and walked from the room at what she hoped was a steady pace, her traitorous hands held tightly at her sides. When she got in the hallway, she ran until she reached the safety of her room.
She flung away her shawl and loosened her garments, turning to look at her flushed face in the scuffed mirror.
Get it together, she warned herself to no avail. Dear God, his body was amazing and she burned to press against him. It had been more than a year since she’d had sex. How could she in this time, when her reputation would be ruined. She’d become a target for all sorts of lecherous fiends if she so much as made out with someone and the word spread. She had to keep her job, set a good example for her charges, or she’d be destitute.
And it hadn’t been all that bad after a while. She enjoyed reading, and learned how to play chess, though apparently she could use some practice. Many evenings the family she stayed with had musical entertainment to which she’d be invited, and there was never a lack of needlework to do. If she kept busy, she rarely thought about sex anymore.
Until now. Until bloody Quinn Ferguson. Now she couldn’t think about anything else. And with him being Catie’s guardian, he was completely off limits, not that he’d ever look twice at her in that way. Though he flirted outrageously, he seemed to hold her in the highest esteem, which was nice. It was nice to be held in any esteem. Most people barely saw her except when they needed her to do something.
It sucked being a spinster with no means. It was far, far better being an independent woman in her own time, even if she didn’t have a whole lot of money then, either. At least people respected and sometimes even admired her. She could smile at a man without word getting around that she was of loose moral character and should be disgustingly propositioned at every turn.
She tossed herself onto her bed, completely worked up. She had half a mind to march down to his room and brazenly slip through the doorway and into his bed. She’d bet all her savings he wouldn’t turn her away. And she’d bet any future earnings that it would be a mighty good time, too.
But he wouldn’t respect you tomorrow, she thought sadly. Stupid eighteenth century. And why did she care at all if Quinn respected her? In fact, the more she thought about it, he seemed like he was a little more evolved than the average man of his time. He treated her closer to a person than anyone had in the last year.
Perhaps they could … wait, was she thinking up reasons for it to be acceptable to sleep with Quinn? She groaned. It would never be acceptable! Punching her pillow six times in a row and curling into a ball, she eventually managed to fall asleep.
Chapter 6
The two days while they waited for the gowns to be finished were spent exploring the city and calling on neighbors to practice Catie’s conversational skills. On their excursions to the park or about town, Catie cavorted here and there, thrilled with everything she saw.
Lizzie liked exploring eighteenth
“And now flattery. Sir, you are a rogue, indeed.” Lizzie was flustered, not sure if he was teasing her.
His smile seemed open and guileless, but her pounding heart warned her to run. Everything seemed suddenly dangerous, their shared laughter, the stories of their childhoods, the fact that she was beginning to like him as if he were a real person and not some historical figure she might read about when she made it home.
She got up in a hurry, nearly knocking her chair backwards, and nodded curtly at him. “Good night, Mr. Ferguson.”
He blinked and his smile faltered, almost as if she’d hurt his feelings. Hell. She had to get out before she reached out to soothe his troubled brow. Her hand acted on its own accord and actually reached out for him. She turned and walked from the room at what she hoped was a steady pace, her traitorous hands held tightly at her sides. When she got in the hallway, she ran until she reached the safety of her room.
She flung away her shawl and loosened her garments, turning to look at her flushed face in the scuffed mirror.
Get it together, she warned herself to no avail. Dear God, his body was amazing and she burned to press against him. It had been more than a year since she’d had sex. How could she in this time, when her reputation would be ruined. She’d become a target for all sorts of lecherous fiends if she so much as made out with someone and the word spread. She had to keep her job, set a good example for her charges, or she’d be destitute.
And it hadn’t been all that bad after a while. She enjoyed reading, and learned how to play chess, though apparently she could use some practice. Many evenings the family she stayed with had musical entertainment to which she’d be invited, and there was never a lack of needlework to do. If she kept busy, she rarely thought about sex anymore.
Until now. Until bloody Quinn Ferguson. Now she couldn’t think about anything else. And with him being Catie’s guardian, he was completely off limits, not that he’d ever look twice at her in that way. Though he flirted outrageously, he seemed to hold her in the highest esteem, which was nice. It was nice to be held in any esteem. Most people barely saw her except when they needed her to do something.
It sucked being a spinster with no means. It was far, far better being an independent woman in her own time, even if she didn’t have a whole lot of money then, either. At least people respected and sometimes even admired her. She could smile at a man without word getting around that she was of loose moral character and should be disgustingly propositioned at every turn.
She tossed herself onto her bed, completely worked up. She had half a mind to march down to his room and brazenly slip through the doorway and into his bed. She’d bet all her savings he wouldn’t turn her away. And she’d bet any future earnings that it would be a mighty good time, too.
But he wouldn’t respect you tomorrow, she thought sadly. Stupid eighteenth century. And why did she care at all if Quinn respected her? In fact, the more she thought about it, he seemed like he was a little more evolved than the average man of his time. He treated her closer to a person than anyone had in the last year.
Perhaps they could … wait, was she thinking up reasons for it to be acceptable to sleep with Quinn? She groaned. It would never be acceptable! Punching her pillow six times in a row and curling into a ball, she eventually managed to fall asleep.
Chapter 6
The two days while they waited for the gowns to be finished were spent exploring the city and calling on neighbors to practice Catie’s conversational skills. On their excursions to the park or about town, Catie cavorted here and there, thrilled with everything she saw.
Lizzie liked exploring eighteenth
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