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Authors: Jenna Petersen
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disinterest when I asked you about it. I don’t know what to think of you or how to read you and I like that. I like the uncertainty.”
Lillian blinked. His reply was entirely unexpected. She didn’t think any man had ever been so straightforward with her. Most danced around with pretty words and never really gave an answer. But this… this was an answer.
“Not to mention the fact that you are quite beautiful, Miss Mayhew,” he continued, and now he took a small step closer. “Lillian.”
She was suddenly aware of how tall he was. And that he smelled faintly of pine, as if he spent a great deal of time outside in the fresh air. She found herself breathing him in subtly. But then she shook her head and backed away, desperate to break the strange spell he had woven around her with pretty words and heated glances.
“There are at least a dozen beautiful women here, Simon.” She flushed as she realized her slip. It seemed her private use of his given name had instilled bad habits in her. “Your Grace.”
But a light of triumph had already brightened his eyes. Her use of his name was only encouragement to him.
She hastened to add something else, to counteract her inappropriate statement with a fact that would crush his interest.
“Those other women are far more appropriate than I am, as well,” she finally whispered. “If you are on this path to court me, I would bring nothing to you, Your Grace. No money, no alliance with a powerful family, in fact, my connections would bring you down in the estimation of some. I did not come here to pursue that kind of connection to you; I have no illusions that I shall marry, perhaps at all.”
He smiled again, but this time there was a gentleness to it. “All that you say may be true. However, I find that I don’t really care that much. I do find you interesting, Lillian, whether you like it or not, whether you expected it or not. And since I have the power and the access and the time, I intend to pursue my interest.”
Lillian’s lips parted as he moved even closer. She felt his body heat now, suffusing her fine linen gown, warming her beneath in a way that suggested naked skin and writhing bodies. With a start, she turned away, but he caught her wrist and held her steady.
“You are a riddle I intend to solve,” he whispered, his gaze holding hers.
Before she could find her voice to reply, there was the sound of a throat clearing from behind her. Lillian shook off his hand and turned to find the dowager duchess, Lady Billingham, standing with her arms folded, staring at them. Staring at Simon was actually more accurate. She did not spare Lillian so much as a glance.
“You are neglecting your guests, Your Grace,” she said, her tone chilly. “Why don’t you join us?”
Lillian thought she heard just the faintest sigh from Simon before he moved forward. “Yes, Mother.”
As his mother left the garden, Simon turned back to her. “Will you return with us?”
She shook her head. “No. I’d like to remain in the garden for a few moments.”
He smiled. “Good. I hope you shall find something interesting to consider.”
She watched his retreating back for a moment with a silent curse. Because of him, all she would think about for some time was the feel of his fingers around her wrist, of the sound of his words while he stated his intention to pursue her, and of the way he had looked at her with such heat that it had warmed her to her very toes.
All she would think about was him.
Chapter 6
T he next evening, as she readied herself for the welcome ball, Lillian found her thoughts returning again and again to Simon and their encounter in the garden. She had tried to forget it, ignore it, even curse it, but it leapt to the forefront of her mind despite all attempts to squelch the memory.
“You are thinking of him again,” Gabby said as she fastened the clasp of a pretty string of pearls around Lillian’s neck.
Lillian’s lips thinned. She could only
Lillian blinked. His reply was entirely unexpected. She didn’t think any man had ever been so straightforward with her. Most danced around with pretty words and never really gave an answer. But this… this was an answer.
“Not to mention the fact that you are quite beautiful, Miss Mayhew,” he continued, and now he took a small step closer. “Lillian.”
She was suddenly aware of how tall he was. And that he smelled faintly of pine, as if he spent a great deal of time outside in the fresh air. She found herself breathing him in subtly. But then she shook her head and backed away, desperate to break the strange spell he had woven around her with pretty words and heated glances.
“There are at least a dozen beautiful women here, Simon.” She flushed as she realized her slip. It seemed her private use of his given name had instilled bad habits in her. “Your Grace.”
But a light of triumph had already brightened his eyes. Her use of his name was only encouragement to him.
She hastened to add something else, to counteract her inappropriate statement with a fact that would crush his interest.
“Those other women are far more appropriate than I am, as well,” she finally whispered. “If you are on this path to court me, I would bring nothing to you, Your Grace. No money, no alliance with a powerful family, in fact, my connections would bring you down in the estimation of some. I did not come here to pursue that kind of connection to you; I have no illusions that I shall marry, perhaps at all.”
He smiled again, but this time there was a gentleness to it. “All that you say may be true. However, I find that I don’t really care that much. I do find you interesting, Lillian, whether you like it or not, whether you expected it or not. And since I have the power and the access and the time, I intend to pursue my interest.”
Lillian’s lips parted as he moved even closer. She felt his body heat now, suffusing her fine linen gown, warming her beneath in a way that suggested naked skin and writhing bodies. With a start, she turned away, but he caught her wrist and held her steady.
“You are a riddle I intend to solve,” he whispered, his gaze holding hers.
Before she could find her voice to reply, there was the sound of a throat clearing from behind her. Lillian shook off his hand and turned to find the dowager duchess, Lady Billingham, standing with her arms folded, staring at them. Staring at Simon was actually more accurate. She did not spare Lillian so much as a glance.
“You are neglecting your guests, Your Grace,” she said, her tone chilly. “Why don’t you join us?”
Lillian thought she heard just the faintest sigh from Simon before he moved forward. “Yes, Mother.”
As his mother left the garden, Simon turned back to her. “Will you return with us?”
She shook her head. “No. I’d like to remain in the garden for a few moments.”
He smiled. “Good. I hope you shall find something interesting to consider.”
She watched his retreating back for a moment with a silent curse. Because of him, all she would think about for some time was the feel of his fingers around her wrist, of the sound of his words while he stated his intention to pursue her, and of the way he had looked at her with such heat that it had warmed her to her very toes.
All she would think about was him.
Chapter 6
T he next evening, as she readied herself for the welcome ball, Lillian found her thoughts returning again and again to Simon and their encounter in the garden. She had tried to forget it, ignore it, even curse it, but it leapt to the forefront of her mind despite all attempts to squelch the memory.
“You are thinking of him again,” Gabby said as she fastened the clasp of a pretty string of pearls around Lillian’s neck.
Lillian’s lips thinned. She could only
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