A Summer Seduction by Candace Camp Page B

Howard.”
    “I? I believe it was you who kept dangling after the woman last Christmas.”
    Myles grinned. “I will admit I enjoyed flirting with her.”
    “You enjoy flirting with everyone.”
    Myles laughed. “I will not deny that I like the company of women.”
    “But what about this particular woman?” Rawdon asked, his gaze sharpening. “Are you enamored of her? Do you mean to woo her?”
    Myles’s brows went up at his friend’s suddenly serious tone, but he shrugged and said lightly, “No. Much as I admire the lovely Mrs. Howard, I get along with her far too well to fall in love with her.”
    Rawdon cast him a sardonic glance. “Then…”
    “Would I object to your pursuing the eminently pursuable Mrs. Howard?” Myles grinned. “Not at all. Indeed, I think it might provide me a good deal of entertainment, watching the chase.”
    “That was not what I was about to say.”
    “It should have been. Come, Alec, an earl cannot remain unmarried forever. And you would have difficulty finding a better prospect than Mrs. Howard. She is entrancing, and your relatives disapprove. What could be more appealing?”
    Rawdon snorted. “I can assure you, my grandmother’s approval—or disapproval—has no role in my pursuit of a woman. But I have no intention of wedding Mrs. Howard or anyone else, for that matter. I am done with such nonsense.”
    “But surely you will marry one day.”
    “I suppose I must, if only to keep my cousin Hubert from inheriting the title.” Rawdon shrugged. “But I will take a wife as a Stafford does, for her bloodlines, not because in some juvenile way I fancy myself in love.”
    Myles glanced at him, his brow furrowing. “Jocelyn was an aberration, you know. Not all women are like her.”
    Rawdon downed the rest of his drink. “No? Still, I fear I cannot escape myself.”

Seven
     
    D amaris awoke to find a pair of bright blue eyes staring at her. They were set in a flat little pink-nosed face with a cloud of white fur bursting out around it. Damaris blinked, surprised. The cat gazed steadily back at her from its perch on the wooden footboard, unblinking and unmoving except for an occasional twitch of its fluffy tail.
    “Well,” Damaris said. “And who might you be? I wonder.”
    The animal continued to regard her with its unnerving stare. Damaris felt vaguely at a disadvantage lying on the bed, looking up at the cat, so she sat up. At that moment, the door opened and Edith slipped quietly inside. She glanced over and saw the cat, and her mouth twitched in irritation.
    “So you managed to get in, did you?” Edith hissed, coming into the room and laying down the dress she was carrying. “I’m sorry, ma’am. He’s been trying to sneak in here this past hour. The chambermaid must have let him in.”
    The maid made shooing motions at the cat, and Damaris watched in some amusement as the feline ignored Edith, lifting its paw and beginning to wash it. Finally, just as Edithstarted for the small fireplace broom, the cat stood up and jumped lithely to the ground. With a regal air of unconcern, it stalked to the door, its long, full tail held high, and paused at the door, waiting for Edith to open it.
    “Sorry,” Edith said again, heaving a gusty sigh as she closed the door behind the cat. “His name is Xerxes, and he belongs to the young miss.”
    “Lady Genevieve?” He was, Damaris thought, a perfect pet for Alec’s sister, with the same aristocratic manner and piercing blue eyes. Even the white fur was not far different from Genevieve’s pale blond tresses.
    “Yes’m. When I came down the hall this morning, he was climbing the drapes in the hall. They say he likes to lie on top of them and jump down on the maids. He’s a terror, but the young miss is terrible fond of him.”
    Damaris thought it better not to comment on the “young miss’s” own personality. After all, she barely knew the girl, and having a visitor thrust upon one like this could not be easy. Besides,