Page 37 of The Marquess and the Maiden

Chapter Nine

Were it not for Lady Davenport, this country house party would never have come together so quickly. Guests were expected to begin arriving the following day, and Harriet was full of nerves. She hadn’t seen Oliver much in the intervening time, deciding it was best to avoid him and concentrate on the planning. Thus, she hadn’t had to endure any more of his senseless flirting and wicked tongue.

She and Agnes had made certain to include members of the Ladies of Virtue so they could observe them. The first step in uncovering the mysterious Lady X’s identity would be to eliminate the possibility that she was one of their own.

Harriet and her mother and Lady Davenport had ridden up together while Oliver traveled separately. She hadn’t yet seen him since her arrival but had been instructed to meet him on the balcony off the ballroom.

He stood with his back to her, wearing only his trousers and shirt. The pants molded to his bottom and thighs and made her wonder what those muscles would look like without the hindrance of clothing. The white shirt accented the breadth of his shoulders and, when he turned to face her, revealed a swatch of bronzed skin at his throat and chest. His forearms were also uncovered, as the shirt had been pushed up to his elbows.

It wasn’t indecent, but more skin than was proper. Her mouth dried. When her eyes finally reached his face, she found him smirking at her, one brow arched in a question.

“You asked to see me,” she said, tilting her chin. Though the movement usually made her feel a modicum taller, in his presence, it did nothing.

“My mother has suggested I should shave and cut my hair. I recall you have also said as much.” He walked toward her until he stood right in front of her.

She barely reached his chest. “It is a good idea, especially considering how some of the girls in London spoke about you at that last ball.” She looked up at him and gracious if it wasn’t as if she were staring directly into the sun. Why did he have to be so beautiful? It was maddening. “It makes you look old,” she lied.

He held up a hand. “Do not repeat what they said.”

Harriet swallowed a laugh. She suspected no one would be fond of being compared to Ebenezer Scrooge. “Well, you might be a miser, but you’re not old, and we need to show them that. I seem to remember you having quite a handsome face.”

He smiled slowly, a wolf appraising his next meal. “You think me handsome?”

“Your face.”

“That is the same thing.”

“It is of no consequence.”

“On the contrary. When the woman I want to marry declares she finds me attractive, it is of monumental consequence.”

“You are not still on about that?”

“Sweet Harriet, let us not fight.” He pointed behind her. “Look, it is all set up for you.”

She turned to find a chair and a tea cart that had been temporarily turned into a barber’s station. “I am to watch you get shaved?”

He walked to the chair and lowered himself down. “No, you are to shave me. And cut my hair.”

Something about the tone in his voice and the angle of his shoulders told her arguing would be futile and only delay the inevitable.

Harriet circled him, scissors in hand. She stood behind him and grabbed a length of his hair. It was softer than she’d expected, and she had to resist the urge to simply run her fingers through all of it. She swallowed.

“How short do you want it?”

“You decide. I’m at your mercy.”

She made her first cut and watched the lock fall to the ground. Standing this close to him she could smell him, woodsy and masculine. She had the outrageous urge to lean forward and inhale him, to imprint his scent to her memory.

Instead, she continued to trim, cropping his hair short. Most of the dark blond locks fell to the floor while others got caught in the hem of her dress. She supposed it was best that she and her mother had come to Brookhaven a day before the rest of the guests arrived. She moved around to the front of him, having to position herself to stand between his thighs to get close enough.

Heat pulsed through her entire body despite the gentle breeze blowing in from the surrounding hills. His intense blue gaze caught hers and with it, her breath. He was beautiful. Long hair, bearded, however he came, simply beautiful. She forced her eyes back to his hair and continued her task until she finished.

She took a step back and surveyed her work.

He reached up and ran a hand along his head. “Christ, you practically scalped me.”

“You said you were at my mercy.”

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