Page 5 of Sir Hugo Seeks a Wife
He cursed himself for behaving like a complete hobbledehoy.So far, he’d managed to avoid acting like a yokel in society’s ballrooms.But something about Miss de Smith’s calm, assessing gaze made him feel like he had straw sticking out of his hair and clods of thick Yorkshire mud flaking off his boots.
Madame Lebeau cast him a hesitant smile.Odd to think that ten minutes ago, he’d thought her one of the most attractive women he’d ever encountered.Now he could barely bring himself to look at her.
Even stranger when Miss de Smith’s looks were unconventional in the extreme.Marked dark brows.A nose verging on the aquiline.Olive complexion.Cheekbones so high that her remarkable eyes took on a slight slant.A hint of squareness to her jaw.
The angular features might be off-putting, were it not for the generous pink fullness of a mouth a trifle too large for her features.That mouth promised that beneath the straitlaced exterior, there was a wealth of sensuality to discover.
Miss de Smith would never be counted a fashionable beauty like Lady Petronella or the other chits fêted as diamonds of the first water.But her appearance was striking, appealing because it was so out of the ordinary.Hers was a face that he’d never find boring.Perhaps because she made no pretence to hiding the probing intelligence behind that piercing dark gaze.
“I’ll leave you with Aphrodite to discuss what you’d like to say,” Madame Lebeau said, still with that tinge of doubt.Something told Hugo that this was a woman who rarely questioned her decisions.
Miss de Smith tilted one expressive eyebrow at him.“Or perhaps Sir Hugo is thinking better of his impulse.”
Dear God, the gorgeous impudence of her.She was altogether irresistible.Hugo was accounted an even-tempered man of regular habits, but he came from a long line of border reivers who saw what they wanted and took it.
To date, life had provided him with comfort and prosperity.He hadn’t needed to exert himself to achieve any of his aims.If truth be told, he’d always taken the easy road and hadn’t found himself desiring more than a kindly fate already delivered.
Until now.
Now, by Jupiter, he wanted.He wanted with a ravenous hunger that made his very blood churn.
He knew enough to hide the sudden craving that shook his existence to its foundations.As he spoke, his voice emerged steady and pleasant, despite his world shifting in a blink.“No, I’d like to proceed.”
“Very well,” Miss de Smith said, as Madame Lebeau retreated down the corridor and left them alone.
Chapter 2
My love is like a red, red rose,
But another lass my lover chose.
So now I laugh with careless art
And hide away my broken heart.
Athene laid her hands flat on her desk to conceal how they shook.She studied the man lounging in front of her and told herself that she imagined his effect on her.
Except she didn’t.
She supposed that he was handsome, but the strongest impression – the overwhelming impression – was one of unquenchable masculine vigor.She’d been writing verses for Sylvie for the last three years.In that time, she’d met most of the ton’s eligible bachelors.Not a one of them set the air crackling with energy.Not a one of them caused a heart armored against desire to skip a beat.
Her heart had moved beyond skipping a beat to performing acrobatics.
Yet this splendid male was courting spoiled, brainless, shallow Petronella Fitchett?What a travesty.What a catastrophe.What a sinful waste.
Sir Hugo was large and muscular and looked strong enough to uproot an oak tree with one hand.Athene hid a shiver of purely female awareness.She was a tall woman and very few men made her feel fragile and feminine, but she could already tell that if Sir Hugo Brinsmead enfolded her in those brawny arms, she’d feel safe from any threat.
As if that would ever happen!
Athene reminded herself that she wasn’t here to find a beau.She was here to earn a living.She forced herself to meet eyes as blue as a summer sky in a face that belonged to a knight of old.Granite jaw.Straight, imperious nose.Noble brow.“Have you thought what you’d like to say, Sir Hugo?”
“Don’t you look after that?”He observed her from under a thatch of guinea-gold hair as if he’d never seen such a creature before.If his taste ran to voluptuous blondes, she supposed that he must wonder at Athene’s plainness.Even if her income permitted her to aspire to fashion, her Friday face would never let her achieve it.She was the sort of woman men called handsome if they were feeling generous, and formidable if they weren’t.
Since she’d been left to make her way alone in a hostile world, her imposing looks had served her well.No point now in wishing that she were as coy and kittenish as the current reigning beauty.
Even if men felt the urge to flirt – and most didn’t – one of her fearsome scowls almost always put them in their place.
“I’ll take care of the wording, but I need to know what message you’d like to convey.Admiration?Interest?A proposal?”Although the idea of this superlative specimen tying himself to featherbrained Petronella for life made Athene want to punch her fist through a window.
