Woo'd in Haste by Sabrina Darby Read Free Book Online Page A

mean?”
    Bianca had said the words carefully, trying to ignore the way her pulse raced with panic, as if she’d been caught at something naughty. Even though she’d done nothing at all. Nothing but become aware of the tutor as a man, the way Alice was.
    No, not the way Alice was.
    She was aware of Luc because they had shared a moment.
    Many moments.
    Sometimes she even thought of him as Luc now.
    “Yes. But Thomas is no proper chaperone.”
    Bianca had laughed. Yes, Lottie had instilled in Bianca all the niceties necessary for a Season in London, but here in Watersham there was little reason to practice such unnatural behavior. So what if she took long walks alone across the fields, or spent a morning with her brother and his tutor?
    “You’ve been there most times,” Bianca protested. “And Mr. Dore is hardly someone to worry about. Surely by now you’ve amended your suspicions. He is the most amiable, gentle man I’ve ever met.”
    “And how many men have you met?” Lottie said.
    Which had been a good point, but still.
    And perhaps a point she should have considered more. Because as she took a bite of her jam-covered biscuit, she noticed Mr. Dore staring at her.
    “What is it? Why do you stare?” Bianca touched her lips lightly, searching for crumbs or some smear of jam she had missed.
    He flushed. He looked around and she followed his gaze to where Thomas was crouched down several yards away staring at some crawling thing in the grass.
    “It is just . . .” He sounded choked. “Your eyes.”
    She blinked. “My eyes?”
    “I do apologize. I shouldn’t . . .”
    Heat filled her own cheeks and a tingling of awareness scattered over her skin. He was not suggesting there was anything amiss with her at all.
    No. This was admiration . The way Mr. Darcy had complimented Elizabeth Bennet’s fine eyes.
    This was admiration for Bianca’s eyes.
    Shock warred with embarrassment. She swallowed it all down. Forced a small smile. “What about my eyes, Mr. Dore? Do you find them entrancing? They are blue.”
    Perhaps she had not yet officially been out in society, but that did not mean she had not carefully observed human behavior in Watersham for the past nineteen years.
    It was strangely fun to tease him. He had been so effusive a conversationalist only minutes ago when he had commented on her appearance, bordering dangerously on flirtation. But Luc was no cliché of the dancing teacher, sweeping in with his dashing ways to ruin the daughters of the house. Instead, he seemed at this moment painfully shy.
    And yet, he was supposed to be quite worldly. Had traveled the Continent as companion to some rich nobleman. Had perfected his French, Greek, Italian, and German. Had seen all the great art, had experiences Bianca didn’t even know enough of to imagine.
    And yet . . . shy?
    She reached for the bread in the basket to have something to do with her hands. Found his hand an inch away. And then . . . the tips of his fingers touched hers. Her gaze flew to his.
    “They are not just blue,” he said, his voice low and fluid, no trace of the nervous beau at all. And his fingers rested over hers, warming her from the outside in, even as his voice did. “They are the blue of the sky on a clear, sunny day. The blue of a morning of possibility, of joy. Not just blue .”
    His gaze was so intent that she had to look away. Now she was the one with a blush surely staining her cheeks. They felt hot enough. And his fingers were not just resting over hers. They were caressing .
    Seducing .
    All of a sudden he was dangerous. She shouldn’t be alone with him, not that they were alone with Thomas nearby, but nonetheless it was entirely improper.
    He shouldn’t be touching her.
    She pulled her hand away, the bread forgotten.
    “Tell me, Mr. Dore—”
    “Luc.”
    “Pardon me?” Was he in earnest or was this the flirtatious version of him?
    “Call me Luc.”
    “I can’t.” But his name was already running through her