Page 29 of Forgetting the Earl
Gingerly he stood, testing out the weight on his injured leg, watching the sun bathe her face in gold as she repacked the basket.
She smiled up at him before standing, holding out the basket. Gideon grabbed the wicker handle while Honora bundled up the blanket and picked up his cane.
“Will you be needing this?” She held the cane aloft. “Or will I do?”
“You will do perfectly fine,” he said quietly, the words filled with meaning. Guilt pulsed through him at what a young, thoughtless lord had been party to. He’d abandoned her to Tarrington that night.
Tell me, Honora. Scream at me. Hit me.
Her lips parted as if she would say something, but instead Honora only took his arm, squeezing her to him. “Will you tell me more of your travels? I promise not to snore. I’ve questions, you see.”
Gideon pressed a kiss to her temple. There was a light, floral scent that clung to Honora. Not lavender. Something more exotic. “I have no doubt. Yours is an inquisitive mind.” Another wave of desire for her struck him.
She gave him an impish smile. “I wanted to ask about the fish with teeth.”
“Piranha? The ones who can rip the flesh from a man’s bones in minutes?”
Honora nodded, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked.
“Good lord, you’re a morbid little thing, aren’t you? I’ll tell you, but first, do you mean the piranha that live in the Amazon or the ones floating about London?”
Her laughter, throaty and slightly seductive, filled the air. “Both, I suppose.”
Chapter Nine
Southwell called threedays after their picnic, surprising her with his arrival because he hadn’t sent a note ahead. And because she’d thought he would call sooner given the intimacy of their afternoon picnic. But Southwell had sent her a gift despite his absence. Not flowers but another book, a rather obscure one. Written in Greek. It had arrived just after breakfast yesterday.
Honora didn’t read Greek, which Southwell had probably guessed. He’d meant to pique her curiosity with a tome written in the language, which he had. Everything about Southwell intrigued her. Which she suspected he also knew.
“My lord.” Honora’s heart leaped at the sight of him, decked out in a coat the color of tilled earth, the same rich hue as his eyes. She said a silent prayer of thanks that Loretta was confined to her room with a headache.
Southwell came forward, fingers curling over the head of his cane as he bowed.
Heat flared in her cheeks as she remembered how those elegant fingers had curled and fluttered inside her. She’d thought of little else.
“Mrs. Culpepper.” There was a seductive edge as he addressed her, made more pointed by the way his gaze lowered to her mouth. “I’ve come to take you to the museum. A new trove of Egyptian antiquities is on display. We will have only today to view it before the entire exhibit is open to the public. I’m certain,” he said, barely above a whisper, “you’ll be enamored.”
She already was. Of him. Honora had spent several mostly sleepless nights thinking of Southwell and what she should do. When she’d concocted her little scheme, which truthfully now seemed ridiculous in the extreme, Honora hadn’t expected to find herself so desperate for him.
“I adore the museum as I’m sure you’ve guessed.” The British Museum was one of her favorite places to while away an afternoon, something she’d done frequently before wedding Culpepper, but during her marriage, she’d been forbidden from going.
“You look like a woman who appreciates a good mummy.”
When Southwell teased, smiling at her as he was doing now, with the delectable divot in his cheek, Honora’s very bones melted. “I do, my lord. The dustier, the better. As I’m sure you’ve guessed. I’ll get my things. It will only take a moment. Would you like tea while you wait?”
“No.” He caught her with one arm as she passed him. Southwell’s nose dipped into her neck, his breath tickling against her skin. Pressing an openmouthed kiss below her ear, he murmured, “I’ve missed you, Honora.”
“You should have called.” Her knees buckled just slightly at his touch.
“I sent a bloody book. In Greek.”
She’d been right about the book. He had meant her to send for him after receiving it. “Yes, but I don’t read Greek. I’ll only be a moment,” she said, turning her chin until her lips brushed along his jaw.
Southwell’s grip on her tightened. A low rumble came from him before his hand trailed down her spine to her waist. “Don’t tarry. I can’t leap up the stairs as I used to.”
Honora’s cheeks burned all the way to her room. She’d managed to calm herself before coming back down the stairs, where Southwell waited.
Once they were settled in the carriage, this time with a driver, he rapped on the roof. “Take us through the park first.”
