Page 14 of A Wallflower's Wassail Punch
She saw the alarm darkening his eyes.His wife died giving birth.Annette shook her head, her heart hurting for him.“Not close.The journey would take at least two hours, and most of the tenants cannot afford one.Our steward could, of course, but most women prefer the midwife.A physician isn’t called unless the situation is dire.”
“I see.”He took a sip of his coffee.“The villagers must trust you, then.”
She hadn’t really thought about it, but he was right.“I suppose I’m a familiar enough face.When it comes to female ailments, a woman would always prefer to deal with another woman.”
“Ah, sympathy versus empathy.”
“Exactly!”She watched him as he strode to the side table and filled a plate with eggs, ham, and toast.And two heaping spoonfuls of orange marmalade on each slice.Her eyes widened.“A little toast with your marmalade?”
He glanced over his shoulder, saw her grin, and laughed.“I like my sweets in the morning and found I don’t care for chocolate.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I could trust someone who doesn’t care for chocolate.”She arched a brow, issuing the challenge.Something about him brought out the imp in her.
“Hm, I don’t know if I could trust someone who wouldn’t trust a man fornotliking chocolate.”
“Touché!”She stood and moved to his side, taking a plate for herself.A spoonful of eggs and two slices of toast.
“Dry?”he asked skeptically.
“Yes, when no one is looking I dunk it in my chocolate.”
He looked at the table.“What chocolate?”
At that moment, the butler entered with a tray.She beamed at him.“Thank you, Mr.Gibbs.”
“You’re quite welcome, Lady Annette.”The corner of the butler’s mouth turned up a tiny bit, as close to a smile as he usually came.
“Only a woman with an adventurous soul would dunk her toast in her chocolate,” said the viscount admiringly.“I like you even better.”
“You like me?”Annette gave him a coquettish glance.At least, she hoped it was, for she suddenly felt like her lashes were batting away something in her eye rather than tempting this man.She giggled.
“You find it amusing that I like you?”His thick dark brows arched.“Or is there marmalade on my nose?”
Later, she’d swear the devil sat on her shoulder, for she had no other explanation.Annette dipped her spoon in the marmalade, reached up and smeared some on the viscount’s nose, then licked the spoon with a wicked grin.
His eyes widened, then danced with humor.“Lesson one.Don’t start a game you’re not willing to finish.”He took her hand, singling out her forefinger, wiped it across his nose, then popped it in his mouth, and licked off the sweet jam.
Heat washed over her as his mouth covered her fingertip, her stomach fluttering with a hundred pairs of wings.She’d never experienced anything so… so… intimate with a man.She was sure there was a rule against this, but she didn’t care.The air cooled her skin as he released her finger, and Annette found herself staring at the digit as if it were magical.Then she peeked up at Lord Weston, who was grinning down at her.
“I apologize if I offended you,” he said in a low voice.“I’m not sure what came over me.”
Annette found her eyes locked on his lips as he spoke.She had the strangest desire to go on tiptoe and kiss him.Her father would have an apoplexy.Lord Weston might too.Or would he kiss her back?Instead, she blurted out, “I usually go for a ride in the mornings before breakfast, but I overslept today.Would you care to join me tomorrow?”
The merriment faded from his eyes as he held her gaze for a long moment.She’d been too forward.Her social skills really had suffered these past few years.
“I’d love to if your father does not mind.”
She let out a loud breath and beamed at him.He’d only been considering.“Wonderful.”
“Yes, wonderful,” he murmured as his eyes scanned her face.“Now, shall we eat?”
* * *
Annette hummedas she walked along the shelves of books lining the wall.The library was one of her favorite places.Masculine like her father and brothers, she loved the dark paneling, leather furniture, and giant hearth.There was a large globe in one corner behind her father’s desk and a map of the world on the other.There were pins marking everywhere the family had traveled, her brothers in particular.
She’d felt as if she were floating on a cloud of happiness all day.After breakfast with Lord Weston, he had rejoined her father, and she’d written to her brother in India.Now, she wanted a book to read, preferably a romantic novel where the heroine was saved in some dramatic way by the dashing hero.Who happened to be of similar appearance to a certain viscount.
Samuel Richardson was one of her favorites,Pamela or Virtue Rewardedbeing one of the first romance novels she’d ever read.But today, she was looking for something with a bit more excitement.She trailed her finger along the book spines, reading the titles.The act revived the marmalade memory of this morning, and she shivered.
