Page 29 of When the Viscount Seduces
The moment between them stretched, and Gwen’s pulse beat faster. There was something about the viscount that always made her feel…different. At least, not the way other gentlemen made her feel. Was that because he was a rogue? Whatever the reason, having his attention was exciting. Even if it was all a ruse. Just being in his presence was enough to make one’s heart skip.
He arched a dark gold brow. “Will your betrothed mind you secretly meeting with me?”
She cracked a smile at his sarcasm—at least she assumed it was sarcasm—and stepped back from him. “I do not have a betrothed, so let us not put the cart before the horse. Come, let’s get started. We only have an hour.”
Somerton held her chair at the table as she sat down. Gwen angled herself toward him as he took his seat. “How did your writing go?” she asked.
“Slowly. I copied the first portion six times. Three each night.”
Gwen was impressed. “How long did that take you?”
He looked up at the ceiling, his face scrunching as if he were calculating. “I don’t honestly know. It did become faster as I went.”
“That’s excellent! That’s exactly what we want, for this to become easier.” She pulled a piece of parchment from her bag. “Today, I would like to work on reading first, and then we can spend some time reviewing your speech. How does that sound?”
He leaned back against the chair. “I am entirely at your command, as ever.”
Something about the way he said those words and the manner in which his gaze seemed to…devour her made her shiver. She had no trouble seeing how he was able to steal kisses from nearly anyone. Although, Gwen was fairly certain he wouldn’t need to steal. She would give them freely.
Did that mean she wanted to kiss him?
She had to admit she was curious. She’d never kissed anyone, and she had to imagine the experience with Somerton would be sublime.
She needed to stop thinking such things! There were nice gentlemen showing her interest, if not yet courting her, and she was tutoring Somerton—nothing more.
“Miss Price?” he prodded, jolting Gwen from her wayward thoughts. “Woolgathering?”
“I’m afraid so,” she replied with a shake of her head, as if that would clear her mind. She needed to focus on the matter at hand—helping the viscount. Setting the paper in front of him, she said, “We’re going to practice reading. I’ve chosen a new poem for today, which I’ve copied onto this parchment in a specific way. I’ve underlined words I think you already know and broken other ones into parts so they may be easier to read. I don’t know if this will work, but I thought it was worth a try.”
Somerton nodded as he focused on the paper before him. “You put a great deal of planning into this.”
“Of course.”
He looked over at her, his expression…humbled? “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure. I’m glad we’re able to help one another. You’ve been so very wonderful. Last night was particularly brilliant. I do think it may have changed everything for me to bequeen of the ball.” She cocked her head. “Did you have anything to do with that?”
He shrugged. “I certainly didn’t stuff the box with votes for you. I may have suggested to some people that you would be a good choice.”
Her heart skipped. He’d done so much for her. “For a rogue, you are very nice.”
His brows dipped. “I’m notthatnice. Remember that I am helping you because you are providing something for me in return.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Gwen argued. “We are both benefiting, as agreed upon. I hope you know I consider you a friend.”
“I consider you my friend too. But you mustn’t forget who I really am, Miss Price—a rogue conducting a transaction.” His gaze held hers, and again, she shivered. “There may come a time when you will want to sever ties with me,” he continued. “And I won’t ever blame you for doing so.”
He spoke so frankly. It was almost as if he were making her a promise.
Abruptly, he moved his attention to the paper before him. “Shall we begin?”
“Yes.” They’d already spent too much time talking and not reading. That was her fault. She found him very distracting today.
Somerton took a deep breath and started reading. Gwen put all other thoughts from her mind, though she couldn’t quite shake the lingering feeling that their friendship was more than a transaction, regardless of what he said. And she couldn’t imagine breaking off their friendship, not for any reason.
Later that evening, Lazarus sat in a dim corner in the main room of the Siren’s Call nursing a tankard of ale. Their usual table had been occupied.
His meeting with Miss Price had gone well, though he’d experienced some frustration when they’d worked on the memorization of his speech. He’d thought he’d mastered the first several lines after copying them so many times, but he’d struggled.
