Page 16 of Wynter's Bite

After weaving through the manor for over a quarter hour searching for her, Justus finally spied her in the library. His lips curved in delight. He should have looked there first.

“It’s unfortunate the Haverlys have such a poor collection,” he said aloud.

She gasped and whirled around so fast that her skirts swept up to give him a teasing glimpse of her slim ankles, encased in cream-colored silk stockings.

“Lord de Wynter,” she said coolly, bobbing him the slightest of curtsies. Yet the blush on her cheeks belied her chilly demeanor.

He bowed low. “I want to apologize for my ungentlemanly actions at the Willoughby crush the other night.”

A line formed between her golden brows. “And what actions were those?”

“You are a maiden,” Justus said, trying not to dwell on the implications of that fact. “I never should have been alone with you. And I certainly never should have kissed you. It was unconscionable of me to put your reputation at risk.”

Something resembling pain slashed across her delicate features before the corner of her mouth curved up in a crooked smile. “You are apologizing for being alone with me the other day, even as you are alone with me now.”

The tightness in his chest eased at her teasing tone. Gathering every ounce of his innate charm, he grinned. “I cannot very well do so in front of a chaperone, lest our secret be out.”

This time, she smiled at him in earnest. “I suppose you have a valid point, my lord.”

“Justus,” he implored.

Bethany raised a brow. “How can you speak of propriety and ask me to address you in such an intimate matter?”

Because I love to hear my name on your lips, he longed to say, but that certainly wouldn’t do. Only contrition could repair things between them.

“I’m sorry.” He bowed so low his long hair nearly grazed the Persian rug beneath his boots. “Now do I have your forgiveness for my indiscretion? I would very much like for us to remain friends.”

Bethany sighed. “Of course I forgive you. I was not even vexed at you flouting propriety with me, for I confess I enjoyed it. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

An invisible hand squeezed his heart. Dear God, why did she have to say that? “Then what was amiss?”

The rosy flush imbued her face with a glow as she fidgeted with the sleeve of her pale green gown. “It was a silly, trifling fancy. Nothing to trouble you with.”

“Bethany,” he said softly, crossing the room to stand inches from her. His gloved hand touched her cheek. “Friends are honest with one another.”

For a moment she leaned into his touch, before drawing back against the bookcase. “I’d forgotten that you were a rake,” she whispered, her blush deepening.

“I beg your pardon?” Indeed, Justus strove to maintain that reputation, but her referring to him as such stung a bit.

“From what I was led to understand, something as, ah, affectionate as a kiss would indicate that a gentleman,” she stressed the word, “would have interest in paying a call to a lady the next day.” Her eyes widened and she shook her head quickly as if to placate him. “I don’t mean for a proposal, I never presumed that. Merely that I was taught that a kiss signified interest to further acquaintance.”

Justus sucked in a breath as her meaning became clear. She’d thought that he would court her. Pity at her naivety warred with a terrifying realization: the idea of courting her was immensely appealing. For the first time in almost two centuries, he wished he was a mortal man so that he would be able to ride with her in the mornings, enjoy an outdoor luncheon with her in a dappled meadow, and see the sunlight glint on her golden hair.

That longing, along with the tremulous hope in Bethany’s blue eyes made Justus toss aside all the caution he’d retained ever since he first became a vampire.

“Bethany,” he whispered. “Please believe me when I say that if it were possible for me to pay you daytime calls, I swear I would do so. I would love to ride with you in the mornings and discuss novels over afternoon tea, but I cannot.”

“Why?” she asked, disappointment and confusion flitting across her face.

“I cannot answer that. As it is, I’ve said too much.” Far too much. Gavin would kill him if he ever learned that Justus had plainly told a mortal that he could not be out during the day. Yet his fool mouth continued its dangerous course. “But I will endeavor to see you during the evenings whenever possible.”

Bethany opened her mouth to reply, but Justus heard footsteps approaching the library. Quickly, he hid in a far corner of the room, lest she be discovered in the company of a man without a chaperone.

“Bethany!” Lady Wickshire’s shrill voice rang out. “I should have known I would find you in here. Why must you persist in burying your nose in these mouldering books when there are eligible gentlemen to be caught? You know how your father disapproves of your obsession.”

Justus bit back a growl, whether at Bethany’s mother’s derisive words to treasured books, or the thought of Bethany being used as a lure for titled men, he did not know. The latter was illogical as it had always been thus with gently born females, yet he was quickly developing a distaste for the custom.

“I apologize, Mother.” Bethany’s sullen tone made Justus want to pull her into his arms and soothe her. “I was feeling overheated and thought it wise to remain out of sight so as not to put off the gentlemen with my appearance. Besides,” a hint of mirth laced her voice, “This is a poor collection, though I’d never dare tell the Haverlys.”

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