Page 44 of Almost a Bride
She sat up and leaned back on one arm to better see his face. “Your mistresses, of course.”
“My mistresses?”
“All three of them had been invited to the party—did you know that would happen?”
“Naturally not,” he said, without even a good pause that she could read something into. “I tried to keep the silly chits away from each other, but they so enjoy my company.”
Thornton gave her the perfect rakish grin.
She was partly amused, partly horrified. Why would one man need so many women?
“What did everyone do when the one woman pulled off the other’s wig?”
He only laughed and shook his head. “I don’t tell tales, as you seem fond of doing.”
He sat up so quickly, his shoulder brushed her chin. “Be a dear and help me up.”
A dear?What was she, his grandmother? No, she was his nursemaid, the betrothed he hadn’t bothered to woo—not when he had so many other women fighting over him.
As she stood up, a feeling of shame and embarrassment swept over her. But lives were at stake here, not her silly pride. She wasn’t any closer to discovering whether he was a Spanish spy or not.
Spencer took Roselyn’s hands in his own, and as he rose, tried not to pull too hard. When he stood upright, he rested his hand on her shoulder for balance, and even the touch of her collarbone sent his blood thundering through his body. Never had he thought he would be affected by her, not after what she’d done two years before.Shewas supposed to be aroused, and he was supposed to remain distant. He told himself that this…awareness between them must bother her more than it did him, but maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe once again, he was the foolish one.
But he’d wanted to kiss her, God help him. It was getting to the point where he couldn’t keep his gaze off her mouth, so full and perfect for kisses. Did she know how tempting she was? She certainly couldn’t have missed how tempted he was.
And what would a kiss hurt? He would be gone soon—just ten more days—and she would hardly be damaged by it.
They started walking slowly back the way they’d come, his arm around her shoulders. He was forgetting what it was like to walk alone.
He tried to think of nothing but the vivid sky, where gulls wheeled about. He could hear the crash of ocean waves, and even catch sight of that endless blue expanse when they crested a small hill.
But the ocean reminded him of his mission, and his mission reminded him of his brother—and this latest scandal Roselyn mentioned.
What the hell was going on in London?
Far in the distance, a shout broke through his reverie, and his head came up in a sudden sharp awareness. He felt a tremor shake Roselyn, and he wondered for a moment if another Spaniard had been sent for him.
But it was only a young woman running toward them across the meadow, waving. He allowed himself to relax slightly, but noticed that Roselyn didn’t.
“ ’Tis Charlotte,” she hissed, even while she put on a false smile and waved back.
She glanced up at him, and her eyes were narrowed and thoughtful, making him uneasy with suspicion.
“Do you want to reveal yourself yet?” she asked.
Spencer felt confused and trapped as the girl drew ever nearer, wearing a large welcoming smile. If it became known he was at Wakesfield, Shaw and his men might find him before he could tell the queen his side of the story.
He felt a chill at the thought of luring even more of his enemies to Wight, where Roselyn—and the Heywoods, of course—would be in the way of danger.
But he had to play this carefully, so as to make her no more suspicious than she already was—luckily, she’d seemed downright reluctant to reveal his presence to anyone. “You make the choice. You have hidden me for almost a fortnight now.”
“At your request.”
“Yes, but you don’t seem to want my presence known, either.”
Before Roselyn could answer, the girl was within yards of them. He saw a country miss on the brink of womanhood, wearing an innocent, happy smile.
“Roselyn!” she called, but her curious gaze lingered on him.
