One Whisper Away by Emma Wildes Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Emma Wildes
disparaged.”
His teeth flashed dazzling white in a swift smile. “Am I? Oddly enough, I don’t seem to quite fit in. At best I only half belong and I am perceptive enough to realize that the difference between myself and the lofty ton is not based on the color of my skin alone.”
Since she had just been thinking the same thing—but with a different slant—to her chagrin, she blushed. She could feel the warm blood rise through her neck and heat her cheeks. She was rarely at a loss for words, but his bluntness robbed her of the ability to fling back a swift retort.
So did his overwhelming masculinity. The width of his shoulders was daunting; and even seated and seemingly relaxed he gave the impression of power. . . and maybe even danger.
He went on in a conversational tone as if they were discussing the weather. “My personal views on the attitudes of the English nobility aside, is there something I can do to repair the damage? You know better than I do, I’m sure.”
To her surprise, he sounded sincere, though she would have sworn he was the kind of man who cared very little for convention.
At last she found her voice. “It has gotten to be ridiculous.”
“Tell him not coming over and sitting next to you might help.” Eleanor, who had been listening unabashedly to every word, hissed furiously in her ear. “People are staring again.”
Cecily did her best to ignore her sister, but no doubt she was right. Unfortunately Lord Augustine proved to have extremely good hearing. He said mildly, “Your sister is probably correct, but I am not ravishing you on the floor in public. We are just having a conversation. How can there be any cause for alarm in that?”
“People will think you are paying attention to me,” she explained, wondering if the room was really overheated or if his proximity was the problem.
“I certainly hope I am as we are currently speaking to each other.”
“I mean—”
“I know what you mean, Lady Cecily.” The interruption was softened by a humorous quirk of his arched dark brows. “They will think I have a romantic interest.”
Do you?
She almost said it out loud, partially because of the way he was looking at her, but maybe more because of how she was looking at him .
To her dismay the music was starting, which meant he had to leave now or it would be rude of him to get up and change seats during the performance. Not that she was positive it would deter him, but she sensed his disregard for society was based more on a lack of affectation than a lack of manners.
The soft sound of the violin began, the strains floating out and the murmured conversation fading.
Then he did it again. He leaned so close she could feel the warm whisper of his breath on her temple and he said so only she could hear, “You look very beautiful tonight, and while I admire that particular shade of rose on you, I am certain you would look even better unadorned. Can we continue this discussion later?”
So much for good intentions.
He entirely blamed the duke’s beguiling daughter. Jonathan rose and went back to join his two sisters. Both Carole and Betsy, pretty and dressed in the new gowns he’d paid a fortune to the fashionable modiste to make up quickly for this event because Lillian had insisted that both their wardrobes were outdated and too girlish, cast him curious glances.
Maybe it wasn’t entirely correct that what had just happened was Lady Cecily’s fault. He shouldn’t have confessed he was sitting next to her imagining her naked. Those sorts of fantasies were best left unsaid, but truthfully the sensual beauty of her bared shoulders and the hint of the upper swell of her luscious breasts distracted him from his original purpose, which had been to correct his earlier offense.
And then he had just compounded the problem.
If she hadn’t blushed so becomingly earlier, maybe he would have been more circumspect.
Maybe.
He wasn’t used to being less than himself at any time.
His teeth flashed dazzling white in a swift smile. “Am I? Oddly enough, I don’t seem to quite fit in. At best I only half belong and I am perceptive enough to realize that the difference between myself and the lofty ton is not based on the color of my skin alone.”
Since she had just been thinking the same thing—but with a different slant—to her chagrin, she blushed. She could feel the warm blood rise through her neck and heat her cheeks. She was rarely at a loss for words, but his bluntness robbed her of the ability to fling back a swift retort.
So did his overwhelming masculinity. The width of his shoulders was daunting; and even seated and seemingly relaxed he gave the impression of power. . . and maybe even danger.
He went on in a conversational tone as if they were discussing the weather. “My personal views on the attitudes of the English nobility aside, is there something I can do to repair the damage? You know better than I do, I’m sure.”
To her surprise, he sounded sincere, though she would have sworn he was the kind of man who cared very little for convention.
At last she found her voice. “It has gotten to be ridiculous.”
“Tell him not coming over and sitting next to you might help.” Eleanor, who had been listening unabashedly to every word, hissed furiously in her ear. “People are staring again.”
Cecily did her best to ignore her sister, but no doubt she was right. Unfortunately Lord Augustine proved to have extremely good hearing. He said mildly, “Your sister is probably correct, but I am not ravishing you on the floor in public. We are just having a conversation. How can there be any cause for alarm in that?”
“People will think you are paying attention to me,” she explained, wondering if the room was really overheated or if his proximity was the problem.
“I certainly hope I am as we are currently speaking to each other.”
“I mean—”
“I know what you mean, Lady Cecily.” The interruption was softened by a humorous quirk of his arched dark brows. “They will think I have a romantic interest.”
Do you?
She almost said it out loud, partially because of the way he was looking at her, but maybe more because of how she was looking at him .
To her dismay the music was starting, which meant he had to leave now or it would be rude of him to get up and change seats during the performance. Not that she was positive it would deter him, but she sensed his disregard for society was based more on a lack of affectation than a lack of manners.
The soft sound of the violin began, the strains floating out and the murmured conversation fading.
Then he did it again. He leaned so close she could feel the warm whisper of his breath on her temple and he said so only she could hear, “You look very beautiful tonight, and while I admire that particular shade of rose on you, I am certain you would look even better unadorned. Can we continue this discussion later?”
So much for good intentions.
He entirely blamed the duke’s beguiling daughter. Jonathan rose and went back to join his two sisters. Both Carole and Betsy, pretty and dressed in the new gowns he’d paid a fortune to the fashionable modiste to make up quickly for this event because Lillian had insisted that both their wardrobes were outdated and too girlish, cast him curious glances.
Maybe it wasn’t entirely correct that what had just happened was Lady Cecily’s fault. He shouldn’t have confessed he was sitting next to her imagining her naked. Those sorts of fantasies were best left unsaid, but truthfully the sensual beauty of her bared shoulders and the hint of the upper swell of her luscious breasts distracted him from his original purpose, which had been to correct his earlier offense.
And then he had just compounded the problem.
If she hadn’t blushed so becomingly earlier, maybe he would have been more circumspect.
Maybe.
He wasn’t used to being less than himself at any time.