The Trouble with Honor by Julia London Read Free Book Online Page A

low, and it sent another little shiver winging through her, fluttering in her chest, in her groin.
    The coach took an unexpected turn; Mr. Easton’s knee bumped her leg. He said nothing, but he smiled as if that amused him, too. “Well, Miss Cabot?” he asked. “What has brought on this unprecedented ride about the park in a Beckington coach? Do you desire to seduce me? If so, I am favorably inclined. His gaze slid down to her well-covered bosom. “I find seduction one of the greatest pleasures in life.”
    Honor had the strongest urge to look down and assure herself that her spencer was properly buttoned.
    Easton lifted his gaze. “Well? I am filled with curiosity.”
    Her palms were suddenly damp, her heart fluttering still, making it feel impossible to speak. But speak she must, for here it was, the moment of her greatest folly. “I am in need of a favor, Mr. Easton.”
    One brow arched above the other.
    “Of you.... That is, if you would be so kind.” She smiled.
    Mr. Easton’s gaze flicked over her again, lingering a little longer on her chest. “Do you believe we are so well acquainted that you might ask a favor?” He touched her foot with his boot.
    “I...” She hesitated.
    Now he smiled, as if he had the upper hand, as if there was no possible answer to that but no.
    He was certainly right about that—there was no possible answer to that beyond no. But it was his faintly smug expression that gave Honor the swell of pluck that she needed. “One might agree that one hundred of your pounds suggests I do, sir.”
    Mr. Easton very nearly choked on his smile. His eyes, Honor noticed, were an amazing shade of blue, the color of pale china silk. She had a fleeting thought of what it must be like to lie beneath this man and gaze up into those eyes.
    “Touché, Miss Cabot,” he said. “I have never been asked a favor in quite this manner, but you are so comely, I can’t possibly refuse. Lift your skirts, then, allow me to gaze upon the valley I shall be pleasuring—”
    “What?” she gasped as a hot bolt of awareness shot through her. “No, no, Mr. Easton, you misunderstand!”
    “Do I?” he asked with an easy smile.
    “ Yes. I am in need of a different sort of favor. Not...not that, ” she said breathlessly.
    He laughed. “I do not frequent the same assembly rooms as debutantes.”
    He didn’t what? Honor blinked with surprise. The tingling in her was momentarily forgotten in favor of her indignation. “For heaven’s sake, I am not asking you to dance with me. My dance card fills the moment I step into an assembly room.”
    “Fills right up, does it?” he asked wryly.
    “I mean that I do not arrange to meet gentlemen so that I might ask them to stand up with me. Or anything else,” she hastily added.
    “I didn’t think that you invited me to ask me to stand up with you, Miss Cabot. I thought you had invited me for more obvious and—” He paused, ran his tongue over his lip as he took her in again, and added, “ Diverting reasons. But now I am fairly certain that you have invited me here to engage in some duplicitous debutante scheme. That,” he said, “is not appealing.”
    Her heart was beating wildly now, her mind sorting through all the diverting reasons. “How odd,” she said, trying desperately to ignore her thoughts. “You make it sound as if debutantes are frequently scheming.” Which, Honor was all too aware, she was doing in that very moment.
    “That, or sleeping. Come now, don’t be shy,” he said, gesturing for her to carry on. “I suppose I am not generally opposed to granting favors...particularly if there is some hope I might personally enjoy the favor after all.” His gaze fell to her bodice again. “Open your spencer.”
    “No!” Honor said, appalled and titillated at once.
    “Then I suppose we are finished,” he said, and moved as if he meant to knock on the ceiling.
    Honor quickly unbuttoned her spencer. He arched a brow; she frowned slightly and pushed