Page 43 of Wickedly Yours
“Was there really a brooch?” Arabella questioned.
“Of course,” he gave her a look of disbelief. “Quite beautiful. He was bragging about the gratefulness of his mistress for the gift. I believe she’s an actress, a terrible one I understand. At any rate, Lady White will go home now and confront her husband. She will remind Lord White that while she does not have his affection, she would have his respect. She will rail at him and demand her own, more expensive, brooch. He will go off to his club and sulk.” He winked at her. “No actual harm done, except to Lady White’s ego. She will not insult you again.”
Arabella laid her fingers on his sleeve, enjoying the feel of his muscles bunching beneath the coat. “You surprise me.”
“Shouldn’t you be telling me how I must allow you to flee to Italy? To become fat and learn to paint? Which,” he laughed, “I sincerely doubt you have the patience for.” He looked down at her and grew serious. “I find Bella, that you surprise me, as well.”
26
He’d never thought watching a woman enjoy a lemon ice would be such an erotic experience.
Arabella made small sounds of satisfaction as she enjoyed her treat, and he wondered what other sounds she was capable of making. Even the way she licked her spoon gave Rowan improper thoughts. Her eyes were dark and mysterious as she watched him over her ice, one sable curl dangling over her shoulder as she ate. She’d surprised him by wearing a lovely frock of forest green and wearing her hair in a relaxed style. Her ensemble even included a matching reticule and earbobs. He imagined she’d chosen a scandalous chemise to compliment her dress as well, though he hadn’t asked her. Arabella had a dark sensual quality to her making her more desirable than any other woman he’d known. And she was far more intelligent than he’d supposed.
Rowan found that particularly arousing.
She made another sound as she ate the remainder of the lemon ice and Rowan’s blood surged between his legs. He’d heard that sound before as he stroked and caressed her after the opera and Arabella truly gave herself to him. Rowan wanted more.All of her. Even the secrets he sensed she still kept from him.
“I don’t suppose I could have another.” A wistful smile pulled at her lips.
“You are beautiful when you smile.” His eyes followed the movement of her tongue as she licked lemon ice off the corner of her mouth. “I long for you to do so more often.”
Arabella shot him a sideways glance. “I know what Newsome is.” She placed her empty spoon down, ignoring the compliment. But her cheeks pinked.
“Do you?” He hadn’t really discussed his plans with anyone for the textile mills, only telling Nick they’d come into his possession. The properties needed modernization but more importantly, they required a way to get whatever they produced to market.
“Newsome is the name of a family in Surrey who owned several floundering textile mills. The river that powered the mills and was used to bring their goods to London has long been dammed, resulting in financial difficulties. A land dispute I believe.” She leaned forward. “And I’m told the father gambles.”
The father did indeed gamble and poorly. He’d been no match for Rowan’s skills. “How would you know such a thing?” He had the urge to reach across the table and kiss her which would shock everyone at Gunter’s.
“You may find this hard to believe, Rowan, but as I mentioned before, Idohappen to read. Also, my brother was trained from an early age to run the duchy and our various family interests. Since I could not abide being separated from my brother, I was there for the tutelage as well. I speak French passably, adore mathematics, and know a reasonable amount of history. Particularly military history as the subject was a passion of my brother’s.”
“Why?” He knew part of the answer but wished to know all of it. All of her.
“I suppose because my grandfather knew my father could never run the estates, so he made sure Nick had the finest education from nearly the time he was born. I liked mathematics especially. I’m very good with sums.”
“So am I.” Rowan shook his head. “What I meant was, why could you not bear to be separated from your brother?”
Arabella looked down at the remains of her ice. She went very still. “I’ve told you,” she said in a low voice, “he was all I had.”
Shehadtold him. At least some of it. The motivation for her deceit. There was more, but he resolved to leave the subject alone for now and not spoil the day.
“Why would you want the Newsome mills? You’ll have to modernize them and there’s no longer access to water. The river has been damned. You cannot run the mills without the river.”
He raised a brow at her assumption.
“Steam also powers looms.” Her dark eyes watched him. “As it does ships. And our ships as we discussed earlier, will soon be converting to steam. My brother cannot avoid it. Steam will shorten the journey back and forth to America and you will get your cotton sooner, won’t you?”
“Clever girl.” Rowan’s heart thudded with desire for her. “What else?” His gaze flew to her lips, then lingered on the swell of her breasts. “I like the dress, by the way. Have I told you?”
“Yes.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “If I guess correctly, will I receive another lemon ice?”
Rowan adored this playful, teasing, Arabella. “Absolutely.”
“I think that the Newsome textile mills are only a hobby.” She drew circles with her fingertips and all Rowan could think of was how badly he wanted her to touch him.
“A hobby?” He scoffed. “Why would you think that? Because I’m titled and should not be in trade? Your brother and his ships are not the only exception.”
“No. You are much more ambitious than I realized. What you really want is areasonto build arailroad. The Newsome mills are only an excuse, aren’t they?”
