Page 57 of My Wicked Earl
Shooting him a flirtatious stare from beneath her lashes, Lady Helen tilted her perfect blonde head towards Colin, leaning in such a way that a plump breast brushed against his arm.
Colin spared Lady Helen a momentary glance, nodding at something she said.
What a lovely couple they made. Both golden and beautiful. What perfect children they would have. Lady Helen would probably name their children after some species of bird. Lord Osprey Hartley and his sister Lady Wren.
Miranda picked up her fork, stabbing with frustration at her turbot. This was really rather unseemly, to have to sit and watch the man she still—
The fork hovered in the air, halfway between her mouth and the plate. She forced the turbot between her lips and chewed mechanically.
Loved?
The turbot tasted like shoe leather.
With a sigh, Miranda carefully set down her fork next to her plate.
Ridley continued to ramble on, sloshing his glass of wine a bit which earned him the annoyance of the footman who stood behind him.
She should really give him all her attention. After all, she thought him the likely winner in the dubious contest for her hand. Pasting a look of interest on her face, she pretended to listen, watching Colin from beneath her lashes.
Lady Helen spoke to Colin in a low voice, forcing him to bend closer to her. Lips pouted artfully as her fingers fluttered up to lightly touch the sleeve of his coat.
Lady Helen’s behavior went unnoticed, for Colin wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to her. He was watching Miranda.
Miranda stabbed another piece of turbot, swirling the fish about in the delicious wine sauce it floated in before bringing it to her lips. A bit of the white wine sauce covering the turbot landed at the corner of her mouth. She caught it with the flick of her tongue.
Colin’s gaze fell immediately to her mouth.
There was no mistaking the flaring hunger in his eyes this time. It was not for Lady Helen. It was forher.
A delicious shiver ran down her body.
Colin’s eyes slid to Ridley, who unbelievably continued to speak, as unaware as lady Helen it seemed. The big man across from her frowned slightly, the dark eyes nearly going black with dislike as he watched the viscount. Colin turned his gaze back to her then, and she saw clearly the wicked, erotic things dancing in the depth of his velvet eyes.
A small gasp escaped her lips as her body arched slightly in his direction, her breasts suddenly heavy and full. Her lashes fluttered to fan against her cheeks.
The dinner party faded until the other guests were only background noise, a distant hum that did nothing to sever the connection between Miranda and the beautiful, damaged man across the table.
Colin’s eyes caressed her, dipping over the curves of her breasts and following the line of her throat. A wonderful fantasy filled her, one in which Colin swept the mound of dishes, along with Lady Helen and Lord Ridley, away from the table and took her right next to the roasted pheasant.
When she found the courage to look up, Colin was conversing with Lady Helen, but one of his hands had reached to the middle of the table. Toward her.
DONATA ALLOWEDthe barest whisper of satisfaction to cross her lips. Ridley, that pompous, annoying ass, should not be counting on Miranda’s dowry to pay off his extensive debts. Lord Hamill, whose limp was likely due to falling off his horse drunk, would need to find another brood mare. Seating him on the other side of Miranda was a brilliant maneuver. The old codger was so hard of hearing that if Miranda spoke to him, he had to lean closer to her, giving the appearance that he was inspecting her bosom. Which he likely was.
The Earl of Kilmaire looked torn between whom he should murder first, Hamill or Ridley.
Lord Kilmaire was ensnared between the ambitious Lady Cottingham and the desperate Lady Dobson. Miss Lainscott, with her timid demeanor on full display, looked as if she wished to fade into the wall paper of the dining room. Well, possibly the girl wasn’t timid but bored. She made a mental note to engage the girl in conversation at another time and take her measure.
Lady Helen was anembarrassment. Why in the world did her mother allow her daughter to go about garnishing herself with feathers that looked as if they’d been plucked from some farmer’s henhouse. The girl’s only redeeming attribute, in Donata’s mind, was that she was quite beautiful. Beautiful but with a vain personality that would grate on Miranda’s nerves. And Lady Helen was entirely lacking in decorum. She even ogled Lord Welles during dinner. Not that Welles didn’t enjoy being ogled, but that was hardly the point.
Lady Helen had been an inspired choice for Lord Kilmaire.
Miranda was miserable. She’d attacked her turbot as if the unfortunate fish had insulted her, stabbing at her portion until it resembled a pile of stones swimming in wine sauce, all while shooting Lady Helen looks of distaste.
Alex, her adored granddaughter-in-law, had created the seating chartexactlyas requested.
Amostsuccessful evening.
Donata took a small sip of her wine and wondered at Colin’s assertion that Miranda had been betrothed to St. Remy. Contrary to what both her granddaughter and Colin assumed, Donata hadnotbeen sleeping on the journey to Gray Covington. Well, at least not all of it for she’d heard every word uttered, some which made her blush a bit. Colin seemed very certain that Miranda had meant to marry St. Remy, which was preposterous. Miranda hadn’t cared for the future duke, only Jeanette had been in favor of the match.
