Page 23 of The Moonstone Governess
Yes, he was dispatching them to Bath right after tomorrow’s tea at St. Austell Grange.
He left his group and made his way to Brenna, who was obviously debating whether to smile at him or scowl. Fortunately, she decided to smile as he greeted her. “Your Grace, may I present my uncle, Mr. Simon Angel, and my cousin, Miss Felicity Angel. We were just making our plans for tomorrow.”
He nodded to acknowledge them as they bowed to him. “Then I am just in time to be included.”
They agreed to pick him up at the inn at seven o’clock in the morning. That settled, Brenna’s uncle and cousin moved on to chat with others, leaving him alone with her. He eyed the delicious girl but said nothing.
She pursed her lips in that kissable way he quite adored.
“What are you thinking, Brenna?”
“If you must know, I am trying not to snap at you. Why are you looking at me that way?”
“How am I looking at you?” The music began to play, and guests began to hurry onto the dance floor. Daire ignored everyone, for only Brenna existed for him in this moment. The dance was a country reel he vaguely recognized. He ignored that, too.
Only a waltz would do for him and Brenna.
“You are gloating,” she said.
Daire shook his head. “I am not at all. Why should I gloat? Did you decide to refuse your Albert?”
A blush stained her cheeks. “No, I haven’t replied to him at all.”
“And you think I will consider this a victory?”
She nodded.
“Brenna, what I think should not matter to you. It is you who must bed the man, not I.”
The little blush now spread across her face and neck. “Why do I even bother to talk to you? Our conversations always manage to turn highly inappropriate.”
“Because we speak of intimate desires.”
“See, you are doing it again.”
“Perhaps, but what do you expect me to say when this matter of marital intimacy is on topic? This is something that troubles you deeply. In theory, your Albert seems perfect for you. Respectable. Intelligent. Able to give you a comfortable life. But it will be a dull life, a safe one with absolutely no excitement above the frenzy of finding him a suitable cravat to wear to the annual university luncheon. That life, my fiery little dove, will crush your soul.”
She tipped her chin up in defiance. “It will not.”
He shrugged. “Lie to me all you want, Brenna. But you cannot lie to yourself. You do not want him to be respectable in the bedchamber, and this is what worries you. You want him naughty and thirsting for you, but he has shown no inclination to do so. Alarms ought to be ringing in your head.”
She gulped down the orgeat in her glass. “Oh, that is vile,” she said with a moue of distaste, and handed her glass to a passing servant Daire recognized as her cousin William. The lad was obviously a hard worker, for he was always at his father’s tavern, the Three Lions, serving, cleaning up, fetching barrels, running errands—and now he was busy handing out drinks and clearing them away here at the inn’s assembly ball.
Daire was always looking for good workers, but he tucked the thought aside for now, since Brenna was foremost on his mind.
“How about some champagne?” he suggested, as Brenna was obviously trying to get the taste of orgeat out of her mouth.
She shook her head, causing her lively mass of curls to bob. “No, I dare not.”
“Why not?”
“I will fall atop you when we waltz if I have any. I do not hold my spirits well.”
“Good to know,” he said, tossing her a wicked smile.
She frowned at him.
He sighed. “Stop reprimanding me. I’ve told you, I am never going to take advantage of you. I merely spoke in jest.”
