Page 128 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
His stroke with the brush hitched for a moment, but then resumed. His eyes met hers in the mirror. “Who do you fancy?”
“An impossible man who brushes my hair and quizzes me on other men.”
His lips quirked in a wry twist that held no humor. “Sounds horrible. Best forget him. He sounds like a bastard.”
“He is. But I fancy him nonetheless.”
“Bad choice,” he said. “Your grandfather would never allow it.”
“I am of age.”
“You will be tossed from thetonbefore you’ve even begun.”
She sighed. “I have been here for more than a month. I have danced and gone to the opera. I have had ices at Gunter’s and shopped at the most exclusive modiste in all of London.”
“Society is so much more than shopping and dancing.”
“Is it?” She hadn’t noticed. It was all prancing about and gossip as far as she could tell. Not so different from Hull, actually, except that everyone was better dressed. Her best moments in London—outside of the bedroom with him—had been when she’d gone to the apothecary shop.
“Do you miss Hull?” he asked.
“I do,” she admitted. “It was…quieter there.” But also lonely. And it would be even more so now without him in it.
“Not boring?”
“Definitely boring, and small-minded, and petty.”
“Sounds like theton.”
She agreed. “There are ladies aligned against me here, just like at home.”
“They are jealous of your beauty.”
“Of my dowry, you mean.”
He shrugged. “Either way.”
“And the men try to take liberties too. Just like at home.”
His expression darkened. “Where is Eleanor when this happens?”
“Fending off her own improper advances. It doesn’t matter. Unlike your Samuel, I am good with my fives.” She held up her fist and smiled.
“Did you punch him?”
“Two of them. The others…” She flashed him a grin. “Why does no man expect a woman to knee him in the privates? It’s an obvious target.”
His low chuckle was warm. “We get distracted by your beauty.”
“You mean my décolletage.”
He set aside the brush, using the motion to caress her bosom, leaving fire in its wake.
“Definitely that.”
She closed her eyes, feeling the way he touched her. Gentle caress. Unexpected pinch. And all of it whispering possession. She was his, he said with his touch. No other man could kiss her, touch her, or take her as well as he.
Her body agreed.
