Page 36 of The Mistletoe Countess
“Oh.” Her breath hitched and his skin heated. “One word and I’m nearly melting to the floor. Imagine how useless I’d be if you put effort into seducing me.”
“My dear Lady Astley, I might terrify you if I unfurled my powers of seduction.”
Her eyes widened, pulling him back to a stop. “You mean youwantto seduce me?”
The way the woman was unaware of her own attractiveness was maddening! From the curve of her jawline to her ready humor to the tenderness in her touch. Seduce her? He wanted much more than that. “Most certainly.”
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear it. I’ve never been seduced before.” He nearly coughed his surprise at her ready response. “Why do you wait? Is it because my unladylike ways have horrified the kissing notions right out of your head?”
“That may be impossible.” He drew in a deep breath and placed his palm over her hand resting on his arm, attempting to turn his wayward intentions back to cold, calm patience. He stopped their walk by the railing and glanced out to sea, his brow furrowed. “My parents did not share a friendship, let alone a—what would you say—lifelong romance?”
Her grin rewarded him.
“I should like more for us.”
“I think we have excellent potential for friendship, don’t you?” She looked back out at the ocean, her smile dimming a little. “Perhaps I’ll have worked out my many blunders by the time Blake visits us as Havensbrooke next week, and then I’ll appear the very model of an English lady.”
“Did I happen to hear my name?” Blake stepped forward from the salon doorway, his gray hat tipped in its usual fashion to match his grin.
“We were just discussing my practice of becoming a proper English lady, Mr. Blake.”
“Now why would you want to do that?” Blake grimaced and shook his head. “I’ve already told Freddie that gloomy old Havensbrooke could use a bit of your American sunshine. And you’ll certainly improve the view.”
“Blake.” Frederick shot Blake a tempered warning, which bounced off Blake’s smile like rain off a roof.
“And who would care for your little idiosyncrasies, when everyone will be so distracted by your style?” He winked over at Frederick, trying to get his back up, if Frederick knew his cousin. “Your hats have no rival, and hats are everything about status, I hear.”
Grace looked from Blake to Frederick, her eyes rounding as she raised a hand to her brim. “Are they?”
“Of course. The bigger the better,” Blake added, eyes brightening with a hidden laugh. “And every additional bird only proves who the real ladies are from the counterfeits.”
“You really talk nonsense, don’t you?” Frederick shook his head, but Grace’s smile had completely faded. “He’s only teasing, Grace. Blake knows as much about fashion as I do.”
“Not so,” Blake was quick to respond. “My mother forced such information on me since she was determined that I should have been the much longed-for daughter she failed to have until my much younger sister finally arrived.” He gave a shrug. “However, Lady Astley, I feel certain you would garner attention wherever you go with such excellent fashion sense and eye-catching hair.”
Grace’s smile died as she absently ran her finger across the edge of her hat’s brim. “Your comment about my hair just reminded me about a rather disgruntled man I saw today. He…he said he’d heard about Lord Astley’s new ginger-headed bride but didn’t believe it.”
Frederick shot Blake a look before turning his attention back to Grace. “What man, Grace?”
“He passed me in the hallway as I went to our room for my scarf.” She patted the blue cloth at her neck. “You remember I went back for it right after lunch?”
“I remember.”
“He seemed to know a great bit about you. He said something about being acquainted with your brother and wondered if he’d run into you on the ship, but I didn’t like him at all.” Her brow crinkled with her frown. “There was something shifty about his eyes. I felt uncomfortable enough that I withdrew a hatpin in case I needed to defend myself. My grandfather said he knew a woman who kept two thieves at bay with a single hatpin and the heel of her—”
“What did he want?” “Only enough to ascertain whether I was Lady Astley or not.” She looked up at him rather quizzically. “He seemed rather shocked that you were my husband, but of course that may be because he expected Lillias. Her sylphlike beauty is widely known. I didn’t tell him much at all and got away from him as quickly as possible.”
“Very good thinking, Lady Astley.” Blake’s expression gave away nothing, but his eyes sharpened with their usual acuity. “Though I feel you could have taken him with your fierceness and a hatpin.”
A smile burst onto Grace’s face, Blake’s nonchalance setting her at ease. But Blake’s behavior didn’t fool Frederick. Something was amiss.
Frederick attempted to match his cousin’s casual response by carefully pulling Grace’s arm through his to resume their walk. “Perhaps he was one of Edward’s business partners. Do you recall what he looked like?”
“Well, he looked exactly as I’d imagine Captain Hook to look. Large, terrifying set of owlish eyebrows. An unruly black mane. A protruding nose just above a very unsatisfying moustache. With the size of his face, he ought to have grown it out a bit more.”
Blake chuckled. “Perhaps we should listen for a ticking crocodile among the waves.”
Grace flashed him a smile and then looked back at Frederick. “He tried to be sly when asking about our travel plans, but I told him it was none of his concern, to which he seemed put out. I kept my hatpin at the ready until I returned to the deck with you.”
