Page 17 of The Stolen Sparkler
How the devil did she know that? Aside from my family and Needham, I hadn’t made that intention known. I took several steps toward her until we were standing a mere foot apart. A fiery tress had fallen across her face. Giving in to temptation, I tucked it behind her ear. “How very innocent you are,” I whispered in a husky tone.
She bristled at that. “I’m not—well, I am—but that doesn’t mean?—”
I placed a finger on her mouth to shush her, to feel the softness of her lips. “A man and a woman don’t have to intend marriage to make love.”
She drew herself up to her full height which wasn’t much. She only came up to my chin. “I know. I’m not that naive,” she said, clearly offended. “But that’s not something I would ever do.”
The devil in me made me lean forward and murmur in her ear. “Even when you’re attracted to a man?”
She stiffened but held her stand. “You think I’m attracted to you?”
“Oh, my dear, I know you are.”
She hitched up her chin. “I’m not your dear, and you, sir, are no gentleman.”
Brushing my thumb across her heated cheek, I whispered. “I never said I was.”
She shot me a furious glance, turned, and stormed out.
Quietly closing the door behind her, I stood for a moment breathing in her lingering scent. A concoction of Lily of the Valley and her own bewitching brew. In desperate need of a drink, I poured a healthy splash of brandy into my glass and drank it down in one gulp. That had been rather bad of me. But somehow I couldn’t find the will to regret it.
CHAPTER 8
A REVELATORY CONVERSATION
IAWAKENED BLEARY-EYED. No wonder. I’d tossed and turned half the night, my thoughts reliving what happened in Needham’s study. After last night’s debacle, my first inclination was to have Tilly pack my trunk and leave. But I’d never been a coward. I wasn’t about to start now.
How dare the high and mighty Duke of Steele attempt to seduce me? And in Lord Needham’s study of all places. Not that there was a proper place to do such a thing. He’d brushed up against me. Well, nearly. He had touched me, though. He’d been so close I’d breathed in that maddening scent of his. What was it? Sandalwood, cedar, some woodsy cologne? And underneath it all, him.
Plain and simple, I’d been mesmerized. No man had ever affected me the way he had. But I was not the least bit interested in a seduction, or a liaison, never mind marriage. I was way too busy with the upbringing of my siblings. And I couldn’t very well leave them to Cosmos’s mercies. Oh, he would feedand water them, put a roof over their heads, educate them. But he would never encourage their dreams or soothe their fears, most especially Petunia’s. No. I could not leave my brothers and sisters to his care.
For years, I’d told myself I had no desire to marry. Not with all the responsibilities I had. My family being the most important. But there was also the Society for the Advancement of Women. We were planning big things, and I’d been elected its president. Come the season, we intended to submit a petition for woman suffrage to Parliament. A marriage, with all its responsibilities, would mean I would need to resign that office. With no firm hand to guide them, the Society would descend into chaos.
My well-ordered life had a purpose. Several of them in fact. I was . . . content. But then the Duke of Steele had breezed into my life, and we’d joined forces to find Eleanor’s missing necklace. Our investigation had proceeded apace. We’d interviewed suspects and discovered clues. We’d analyzed everything and were moving in a forward path. I’d been content, excited over the investigation. Until last night when the duke tried to seduce me.
“He didn’t seduce you,” my conscience argued.
“He came damn close,” I argued back.
“It takes two, Rosalynd.All you had to do was leave.”
“Which I did,” I rightfully pointed out.
“Well, there you go.”
Honestly, sometimes my conscience was downright unbearable. But maybe ‘she’ was right. He hadn’t seduced me. At the very least, a seduction involved kissing. Did it not? And he hadn’t done that. But he’d tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear, laid a finger across my lips, whispered in my ear. His actions had been so unexpected I’d frozen in place. Why had he done such things? If it wasn’t a seduction, what was it? Was he teasing? No. He was not that kind of man. Was he trying to irkme? Well, he’d succeeded at that. But again, the question was why?
A knock on the door interrupted my argument with myself.
“Milady?” Tilly, my maid.
“Come,” I yelled.
“I brought your tea.”
“Thank you, Tilly. Please put it on the table.”
Once she’d done so, she asked, “Would you like me to draw your bath?”
