Read Online The Promise in a Kiss by Stephanie Laurens - Free Book Online Page A

with her—she’s the most enervatingly astute woman I know.”
    Helena debated whether to ask for an explanation, then realized she’d spent most of her evening thus far with him, learning more about him, becoming more fascinated—which was not necessary at all. She lifted her head, looked around. “Is Lord Were here, do you know?”
    An instant’s hiatus ensued; she could have sworn Sebastian tensed. But then he murmured, “I haven’t seen him.”
    Was she imagining it, or was there steel beneath his smooth tones? “Perhaps if we stroll . . .”
    He steered her along the side of the room, skirting the crowd congregating at its center about a monstrous decorative piece formed of gilded, star-shaped lanterns surrounding and supporting a gilt and porcelain setting of the Nativity. Viewing the closely gathered ladies, Helena noticed that, presumably in celebration of the season, many had taken to wearing bright red or forest green.
    Among the throng she spied Louis, keeping an eye on her. Dressed as usual in black, emulating his uncle Fabien, he stood out against the multihued crowd. He was usually hovering somewhere in sight. Despite Sebastian’s reputation, Louis hadn’t overtly interfered in his squiring of her.
    They were nearing the end of the room. She couldn’t see past the outer ranks of the crowd; she knew that Sebastian could. “Can you see—”
    â€œI can’t see anyone you would wish to meet in furthering your goals.”
    To her surprise, he drew her on and then to the side, to where an alcove partially screened by potted palms looked out over gardens. The alcove was deserted.
    The day had been fine; the night was, too, cold and frosty. Beyond the glass, the shrubs and walks were bathed in silver-white moonlight, the barest touch of snow crystallizing like diamond frosting on each leaf, on each blade of grass. Helena drank in the view; it shimmered, touched by a natural brilliance infinitely more powerful, more evocative of the season, than the effort of mere mortals at her back. The scene, so reminiscent, whisked her back to that moment seven years before—the moment they’d first met.
    Quelling a shiver, she turned to find Sebastian regarding her, his expression indolent, his gaze intent.
    â€œIt occurs to me, mignonne, that you have not yet favored me with a complete list of your guardian’s stipulations concerning the nobleman he will accept as your husband. You’ve told me this paragon must bear a title the equal of yours. What else?”
    She raised her brows, not at the question—one she was ready enough to answer—but at his tone, for him unusually clipped and definite, quite different from his customary social drawl. Much more like the voice in which he spoke to his sister.
    His lips quirked, more grimace than smile. “It would help in determining your most suitable suitor.”
    He’d softened his tone. Inwardly shrugging, she turned back to the windows. “Title I’ve mentioned. The other two stipulations my guardian made concerned the size of my suitor’s estate and his income.”
    From the corner of her eye, she saw Sebastian nod. “Eminently sensible conditions.”
    Hardly surprising he thought so; he and Fabien could be brothers in some respects—witness his despotic attitude to his sister, even if he was moved by caring rather than some colder reason. “Then, of course, there are my own inclinations.” She stopped. There was no need to tell him exactly in which direction her inclinations lay.
    A wolfish smile touched his lips. “Naturally.” He bowed his head. “Your inclinations should not be forgotten.”
    â€œWhich is why,” she said, turning from the windows, “I wish to seek out Lord Were.”
    She intended to return to the room and do so.
    Sebastian stood in her way.
    Silence stretched, suddenly tense, unexpectedly