Page 18 of Marigold and the Marquess
Marigold sighed. “Aunt Hortensia, he will think you are a dragon if you do not stop scowling at him. I assure you, Lord Muir, she can be quite pleasant when she wants to be. Kindly assure her that you are not romantically interested in me. She is under the mistaken impression that you like me and therefore must be put in your place. She believes all young men have one thing in mind when it comes to–”
“Marigold! Confine your comments to the weather and your museum trove. Honestly, child. You are far too trusting of this man.”
This man?
In this, Leo supposed the harridan was right.
It took all his restraint not to stare at Marigold.
She looked beautiful in her gown of blue muslin that matched the color of her eyes. The gown was modestly cut, but Marigold had a spectacular body– pert, full breasts, slender waist and hips, and a long, silky neck. Her features were delicate, but at the same time ripe and tempting.
He had been dreaming hot dreams of her last night.
They were a pleasant reprieve from the dreams usually overwhelming his sleep. Of course, those bad dreams always came on. They arose from a dark place and left him gasping for air. He always awoke feeling as though he were buried alive in an underground tomb.
Hortensia was right to be mindful of him.
He was beginning to think of Marigold as his oasis in the desert, a well of cool water from which he might drink and drink, and then drink some more. “Ah, we have arrived.”
Mr. Smythe-Owens hurried out to greet them.
Leo stepped down first to assist Hortensia in descending from the carriage. The little curator immediately offered his arm to escort the harridan inside. He gushed and chattered as he led her away.
This gave Leo a moment alone with the bubble of froth that was Marigold.
She cast him a gloriously soft smile as she poked her head out of the carriage. “I’m so glad Uncle John gave his permission to have you escort us. We are going to have such an exciting day.”
He could think of many more exciting things to do with this girl than dig through crates of old bones, but he was determined to behave himself around her.
All he had to do was stop undressing her in his thoughts.
But that only made him think of it all the more.
There was already too much of a charge in the air between them, that sizzle palpable.
“Let me help you down.” He put his hands around her waist and lifted her out of the carriage. “You look very pretty today.”
She wore a stylish cap that matched her gown. The cap had a small feather sticking up from it. Leo far preferred it to the frilly bonnets women often wore. Those were such hideous things, designed to cover everything interesting on a woman’s head. But Marigold’s pert cap was slightly angled to accentuate her big eyes and the gentle line of her jaw, as well as show off her dark satin hair.
“Thank you,” she said, casting him another of her sunshine smiles as she held onto his shoulders to steady herself. “You look very handsome yourself.”
He chuckled and released her. “Men do not need to be complimented on their appearance, but thank you.”
They walked inside, her hand lightly resting in the crook of his arm. This girl fired his blood, singed him from head to toe with her casual touch.
Bollocks.
He raked a hand through his hair as he walked her inside, knowing he needed to stop this ridiculous surge of desire that came on every time he looked at her. Even her scent was arousing, a light cinnamon or some other similar spice that evoked memories of warm winter nights beside the fire and a cup of eggnog in one’s hand…which probably explained why he had the sudden urge to lick her warm skin.
What he ought to do was get out more often, go to the sort of clubs where a man with lustful urges could satisfy himself on women who were experienced in bed. He could afford to frequent the more exclusive clubs or find a few widows who hosted scandalous salons. How hard could it be to find himself a courtesan or two, or perhaps seek out an unhappily married countess to relieve his agony? Women such as these were rife in thetonand made themselves easily available. They would not put claims on his heart or threaten his bachelorhood if scandal broke out.
He dismissed the idea immediately because none of them would be Marigold. He shook his head over the frustration of it, but his father and grandfather had been faithful to one woman all their lives, and it seemed he was no exception.
He would have to brace himself for an agonizing Season.
Marigold was too innocent to seduce.
But he wanted no one other than Marigold.
