Page 116 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
“No more dances for him.”
“Good.” His expression was light, but there was a shadow in his eyes. She scooted over on her bed, her earlier exhaustion fading.
“Sit down. Tell me what you have been doing this last week.”I’ve missed you so.
He settled beside her. “I paid off my tailor bill with the money from Dicky. I helped my mother scare off an unwelcome admirer.” He shrugged. “The usual for me. And you?”
“French lessons. Dancing lessons. Fittings. Instructions. Sit right, dress right, remember yourh’s.”
“And have you?”
She nodded. “Most of the time. They don’t really care what I say.”
“Of course they do. They’re listening to hear you say yes.”
“Yes? To what?”
“Whatever they want from you.”
She sobered. “My dowry.”
He nodded. “Your grandfather has done right by you. He may not have wanted to at first, but twenty thousand pounds is a fortune.”
“You heard.”
He chuckled, though the sound had no humor in it. “Bluebell, everybody heard. You’re the most exciting morsel of the Season so far.”
She knew it was true, and she ought to be thrilled. Shewasthrilled. But… She touched his bruised lip. “Does it hurt?”Kiss me.
“I’ve had worse.”
Of course he had.
He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. “Tell me everything, Bluebell. Tell me every detail of your come-out. What you thought, what you felt, who talked to you, who looked at you wrong.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Who pinched your bum?”
“Pinched my bum! The very idea!”
“Did someone?”
She flushed. “Yes. But Lord Platner is practically a hundred years old.”Take me.
“At least. And he pinches everyone’s bum. Even the men, but that’s because he’s so blind, he can’t see who he’s got.”
She laughed while wondering at the red in his eyes and the stark cut to his jaw. Had he always looked so lean? At least in comparison to the fat nobles she’d been meeting. Or was this a new gauntness?
She reached behind her, adjusting the pillows against the headboard. Then she scooted backward, leaving a place for him to sit comfortably beside her. When he didn’t move, she tugged on his sleeve.
“Come on. There’s a lot to tell. I haven’t been lazing around getting my lip split by hulking aristocrats. I’ve beenbusy.”
His lips twitched in a smile, but before he could move on the bed, she tugged on his coat sleeve.
“Take it off, Bram. You don’t need it tonight.”
There. She’d said it. She wanted to make love, though obviously the words were different. He got the message anyway. A look of hunger flashed across his features, quickly replaced by a wolfish smile.
“Are you sure? Now that you’ve met all those titled gents—”
“I want to see if you measure up,” she said primly.
