Page 43 of The Duke of Distraction
“A bit worse, actually.”
She frowned at him, and he took another step toward her until he was right in front of her.
“Don’t do that.Frown, I mean,” he whispered, lifting his hand to touch her lip.
The connection made her gasp, and she took a small step back.
“You looked beautiful tonight.”He waved a hand over his hair.“Your feather was stunning.You made it, didn’t you?”
“Yes.Thank you.”Her gaze was hooded, wary.And a bit seductive.
God, he was growing hard standing there looking at her in a state of undress.He realized he was in the same state—his coat and cravat were downstairs, and his waistcoat was completely unbuttoned.He wanted to touch her again, to kiss her.
“You should sleep,” she said.“Good night, Felix.Or Fox.Whatever your name is.”Her voice was cool and her gaze even icier.She turned and stepped into her room, closing the door firmly behind her.
He’d completely cocked that up.What the hell was wrong with him?
You’re drunk.
Yes, but not too drunk to realize he’d just flirted with a woman he had no business flirting with.He stalked to his chamber and shut the door, this time careful not to slam it.He leaned back against the wood and closed his eyes.
He refused to be attracted to Sarah.He couldn’t be.It was simply that he’d been too long without a woman.He’d terminated his arrangement with Meggie after the Coltons had died.
Yes, not being with a woman was the problem.Tomorrow night, he would take Anthony into the village of Ware and they would find female companionship.It would do them both good.
And what of tonight and the inconvenient erection straining against his smallclothes?
Tonight, he would pray for oblivion.
The upstairs sitting room at Stag’s Court afforded a stunning view of the garden below.With a profusion of roses, pinks, and Sweet Williams, it was bright and beautiful, the perfect backdrop for Sarah to write letters to her friends who were at Fanny’s new home near St.Ives.
However after telling them about her first day at Stag’s Court—with probably too much information about Felix’s horrid aunt and uncle—she didn’t know what else to say.She didn’t want to talk about how she was feeling.Mostly because she didn’t know.
Rather, because she was feeling too much.
She was angry with Anthony for turning to the bottle yet again.And angry with Felix for joining him.No, she was angry with Felix for flirting with her, for reminding her of how he made her heart race and how she’d begun to think of their kisses and recall how much she’d enjoyed them.
She was also sad, of course, but there were moments of hope and brightness, that things wouldn’t feel so dark forever.She just wasn’t sure what she was supposed todo.Her maid, Dovey, had told her to take each day as a gift and to not think too much about it.That, Sarah had decided, was not as easy as it sounded.Perhaps that was the problem—she had too much time to think.She needed to do something but wasn’t sure what.
As she tried to come up with how to convey all that in a letter, she wished her friends were there in person.It would be so much easier to talk to them, to hear their voices.
“Sarah?”
She recognized the voice without turning and realized if he’d spoken in the closet at Darent Hall, she would have known him immediately.He had spoken, she recalled, but a short, single word that had barely permeated the fog of her shocking arousal.Shehadto stop thinking about it.Especially since she was annoyed with him.
Turning in the chair, she gave him a frosty look.“I’m writing a letter.”
“I see that.May I interrupt you?Please?I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”
Surprise—and delight—bloomed in her chest, but she didn’t show him.She wanted him to suffer at least a little.“I see.”She repositioned the chair so that she was facing him.
He walked slowly into the room.Garbed in a dark blue coat and gray breeches, he looked as fashionable as any gentleman strolling along Bond Street, but then Felix had always been well-dressed.Sarah noticed these things, of course.Just as she’d noticed his state of undress last night.
She’d seen him in shirtsleeves before but had never been impacted by it.That had been before they’d kissed each other, however.Now she saw him—and his bare neck—in a wholly different light.
He stopped a few feet from her chair, his face pulled into a wince of embarrassment.“I’m afraid I was rather foxed last night.”
“And felixed, apparently.”
