Daring Miss Danvers by Vivienne Lorret

at all. If she closed her eyes, she could feel the tip of his finger gliding over her flesh . . . She swallowed.
    “Of everything that I’ve shown you today—all the rooms, the plumbing in the kitchen, the bathing chamber—you’re most impressed by an overgrown garden.”
    “You’re mistaken. The house is even lovelier than I remember. And as for the plumbing, I’m both amazed and astounded.” However, at the time, she’d still been reeling from the amount of fire pails she’d seen. Her heart still ached for him. For all he’d suffered.
    “You’re frowning again,” he said.
    She shook her head, pulling herself away from those thoughts. “I was merely looking at the old boxwood.”
    “Once the house is finished, I’ll be able to concentrate more on the garden. Most likely, I’ll plant new boxwood in the row where the old is.”
    “Oh, don’t. Another hedge would only hide the flowers. They’re just beginning to bloom. It would be a shame not to give them a chance,” she said, unable to keep her opinions to herself, just as he’d teasingly predicted. She lifted her gaze and saw they were of like mind, which caused her lips to curve again. “I can’t help it.”
    His hand reached up to tug on the end of her bonnet ribbon, yet without the force to untie it. “What would you have me do instead?”
    Caught off guard by his expression, she tilted her head and studied him for a moment, unable to form a response. Surely, she’d never seen him look at her with such tenderness before. Then again, surely, it must have been the way the wispy clouds flitted over the sun, because it altered in the next instant as his gaze dipped to her mouth.
    Her lips tingled. Reflexively, her tongue darted out to soothe away the sensation. “Perhaps . . .”
    He took a step closer. The cuff of his sleeve glided against her throat as his thumb brushed over her bottom lip. “Was it chocolate or jasmine tea today, Emma- mine ?”
    She must have forgotten how to breathe. Her chest constricted with the effort.
    For a moment, she nearly forgot this was nothing more than a pretense and that Rathburn flirted with everyone.
    For a moment, she very nearly imagined he saw her differently. As something more.
    She very nearly imagined he was going to kiss her again, even with Penelope only steps away. Perhaps he was merely waiting for her to ask. Her pulse quickened at the thought. And what’s worse, she wanted to.
    Foolish . Chiding herself, she took a step back. “It’s getting late,” she said, instead of answering him. “I’ll want to rest before the ball tonight.”
    “Yes, of course,” he said with wry half smile, as if he knew her to be a coward. “We can finish our conversation later.”

 

C HAPTER N INE
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    E mma had once dreamed her debut would be like this. The hushed silence after her name was announced. The blatant looks of admiration. The smiles. The nods.
    Now, she had the approval of the Dowager Duchess of Heathcoat, printed for all the world to see. It was as if she were reborn in society.
    Normally, this wouldn’t be cause for alarm. Yet, for the previous two Seasons, she’d come to depend on being looked through in the same manner one would a potted tree, and just as quickly forgotten. Unused to the attention, she momentarily forgot what response was required from her.
    “My dear, it is customary to return a smile when given,” the dowager said, not bothering to curve her lips. “Unless the person or persons smiling do so out of malice. Do you wish me to support you in your snobbery and give the Dorsets and their guests the cut direct ? Or shall we continue on and enjoy the evening with all the niceties we can afford?”
    Cringing inside at the reprimand, Emma produced a smile for the other guests. “I’m aware of no malice, just surprised to receive the greeting. Pleasantly so,” she said without breaking her smile. Then as they turned toward the upper gallery that overlooked the Dorsets’