Page 12 of Wynter's Bite

When at last the meal came to an end, Justus rose with the other men while the ladies retired to the drawing room.

As Miss Mead passed him, Justus dropped his napkin in her path. They both bent to retrieve it.

“Look for me at the Willoughbys’ affair,” he whispered. “We can discuss the book I loaned you while everyone watches the fireworks. In private.”

Her gloved fingers touched his briefly as she handed him the napkin. Her little chin dipped in a subtle nod as she curtsied.

“Thank you, Miss Mead,” he said for the benefit of those watching. “I apologize for my clumsiness.”

He drank in the sight of her pink cheeks and licked his lips. This was a dangerous game he was playing.

And yet he could not stop.

Chapter Six

Bethany searched the Willoughbys’ drawing room, clutching her reticule so tightly her knuckles went white. Lord de Wynter said he would be here and tonight they would discuss the book... in private. She couldn’t help but tremble at the thought of being alone with him, perhaps anticipating that more than the prospect of literary discourse.

The setting sun shone through the glass of the French doors, casting a tinge of gold to everything, reminding Bethany of her imaginings of the faerie kingdom of Gloriana... though she knew who that character was truly supposed to represent. Still, Spenser’s epic held so much whimsy that she couldn’t help but imagine a truly fey monarch. She kept both the book and that sentiment hidden from her father.

Oh, she could not wait to talk to Lord de Wynter about the book. He’d understand.

As darkness fell and people around her chattered in anticipation of the fireworks, Bethany’s mother dragged her hither and thither through the assemblage, introducing her to every affluent gentleman in attendance.

None of them were interested in spending longer than necessary in her company, and that was quite agreeable with Bethany. There was only one man she whose company she wished to share this evening. Yet the bustling room palpably lacked his presence.

Was it possible that he’d found some other diversion? She’d heard that he spent a lot of time at the Medway Inn, playing cards and dice, as well as attending certain more raucous parties hosted by less reputable members of Society. Why should he decline such amusing pursuits to be with her?

Yes, he’d probably changed his mind about coming. Lord Darkwood’s manor was nearby and would have nearly as good a view of the fireworks. So perhaps de Wynter had—

There he was! Bethany’s heart surged in response to see Lord de Wynter’s lithe form stalking around the masses, pausing to exchange a polite greeting when necessary, while he was clearly making his way towards her. Every other step, he flashed her a conspiratorial glance, as if they shared a huge secret. A delicious thrill tremored through her body.

When he reached her side, Bethany withdrew the book from her reticule and handed it to him. Pleasure curled her toes as once more their fingers grazed each other. “Thank you for loaning me the book, my lord.”

“It was my pleasure.” His eyes swept over her face and form, seeming to caress her with an invisible tongue of flame.

Just then, Lady Willoughby announced that it was time to gather on the front lawn to view the illuminations. Those who were elderly or infirm watched from the balconies, where comfortable chairs had been set out for them.

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