no desire to take a mistress, annoyed him. Why didn’t the idea appeal to him? He’d been celibate for months. Perhaps there was something wrong with him.
But one look at Miss Chilton-Grizedale heated his blood in a way that he recognized all too well. No, there was nothing wrong with him—aside from this inexplicable desire for the wrong woman.
“I shall consider your suggestion regarding a mistress,” he said coolly. “But that still leaves us with the problem of the curse and locating this ‘unmarriageable’ woman you suggested.”
She pursed her lips and frowned. “Upon consideration, I think focusing on an ‘unmarriageable’ woman might not be in our best interest. We could achieve the same goals of marrying you off and restoring my reputation by pursuing a highly marriageable woman. Therefore, I think it wiser to concentrate on a proper young woman, one very much like Lady Sarah.”
“Rather like beauty and the beast,” he murmured.
She stiffened. “I shall do my utmost to find you a wife who is beautiful, my lord.”
He stared at her for several seconds, then said carefully, “I meant that I am the beast, Miss Chilton-Grizedale.” His heart leapt in a way it most certainly should not have at the notion that she did not consider him a beast. That perhaps she found him attractive, as he increasingly found her.
Crimson stained her cheeks. “Y-yes, of course. But naturally I shall concentrate my endeavors on women I think you’ll find attractive. In fact…” Her voice trailed off, and, nodding to herself, she began pacing. He tracked her progress, his gaze alternating between her furrowed brow and pursed lips. Each time she moved past him, he caught an elusive whiff of her scrumptious scent, a fragrance that all but set him to salivating. And those pursed lips…He drew in a long, careful breath. Those lips looked puckered as if to offer him a kiss, an offer he knew he would never refuse.
Suddenly she halted and faced him, her eyes bright, her frown vanished. “I believe I have a plan, my lord.”
“Pray, do not keep me in suspense, Miss Chilton-Grizedale.”
“In spite of the fact that this curse renders you—at least temporarily—unmarriageable, I think it will also provoke a great deal of interest and curiosity about you. We must make that work to our advantage. With all these rumors flying about, we shall toss a few of our own choosing into the mix. We’ll make it known that it is merely a matter oftime before the curse is broken, and in the meanwhile, through the hosting of an exclusive soiree—perhaps a dinner party—I shall find you a wife. Cursed as you may be, with the imminent promise of no longer being cursed, marriage-minded mamas will be unwilling to allow the heir to an earldom slip through their fingers.”
“And if I cannot—”
Reaching out, she touched her fingers to his lips, effectively cutting off his words, and his very breath. Shaking her head, she whispered, “Don’t say it. You will. You must. For your integrity and to keep your promise to your father before his health further fails, and for the sake of my livelihood and reputation.”
He wanted to tell her that it was a very real possibility that he would never find the missing piece of stone, never be able to solve the curse, would never be able to marry. But to do so would have required him to move, something completely beyond him at the moment. And movement might have dislodged her fingers from his lips, something he was most reluctant to do. The touch of her fingers against his lips simultaneously paralyzed him and sizzled a bolt of heat through him.
He wasn’t certain what reaction must have shown on his face, because her eyes widened and her lips formed an O of surprise. She snatched her hand away as if he’d bitten her, then retreated two hasty steps.
“I beg your pardon, my lord.”
His lips tingled from her touch, and it required a great deal of will not to run his tongue over his bottom
But one look at Miss Chilton-Grizedale heated his blood in a way that he recognized all too well. No, there was nothing wrong with him—aside from this inexplicable desire for the wrong woman.
“I shall consider your suggestion regarding a mistress,” he said coolly. “But that still leaves us with the problem of the curse and locating this ‘unmarriageable’ woman you suggested.”
She pursed her lips and frowned. “Upon consideration, I think focusing on an ‘unmarriageable’ woman might not be in our best interest. We could achieve the same goals of marrying you off and restoring my reputation by pursuing a highly marriageable woman. Therefore, I think it wiser to concentrate on a proper young woman, one very much like Lady Sarah.”
“Rather like beauty and the beast,” he murmured.
She stiffened. “I shall do my utmost to find you a wife who is beautiful, my lord.”
He stared at her for several seconds, then said carefully, “I meant that I am the beast, Miss Chilton-Grizedale.” His heart leapt in a way it most certainly should not have at the notion that she did not consider him a beast. That perhaps she found him attractive, as he increasingly found her.
Crimson stained her cheeks. “Y-yes, of course. But naturally I shall concentrate my endeavors on women I think you’ll find attractive. In fact…” Her voice trailed off, and, nodding to herself, she began pacing. He tracked her progress, his gaze alternating between her furrowed brow and pursed lips. Each time she moved past him, he caught an elusive whiff of her scrumptious scent, a fragrance that all but set him to salivating. And those pursed lips…He drew in a long, careful breath. Those lips looked puckered as if to offer him a kiss, an offer he knew he would never refuse.
Suddenly she halted and faced him, her eyes bright, her frown vanished. “I believe I have a plan, my lord.”
“Pray, do not keep me in suspense, Miss Chilton-Grizedale.”
“In spite of the fact that this curse renders you—at least temporarily—unmarriageable, I think it will also provoke a great deal of interest and curiosity about you. We must make that work to our advantage. With all these rumors flying about, we shall toss a few of our own choosing into the mix. We’ll make it known that it is merely a matter oftime before the curse is broken, and in the meanwhile, through the hosting of an exclusive soiree—perhaps a dinner party—I shall find you a wife. Cursed as you may be, with the imminent promise of no longer being cursed, marriage-minded mamas will be unwilling to allow the heir to an earldom slip through their fingers.”
“And if I cannot—”
Reaching out, she touched her fingers to his lips, effectively cutting off his words, and his very breath. Shaking her head, she whispered, “Don’t say it. You will. You must. For your integrity and to keep your promise to your father before his health further fails, and for the sake of my livelihood and reputation.”
He wanted to tell her that it was a very real possibility that he would never find the missing piece of stone, never be able to solve the curse, would never be able to marry. But to do so would have required him to move, something completely beyond him at the moment. And movement might have dislodged her fingers from his lips, something he was most reluctant to do. The touch of her fingers against his lips simultaneously paralyzed him and sizzled a bolt of heat through him.
He wasn’t certain what reaction must have shown on his face, because her eyes widened and her lips formed an O of surprise. She snatched her hand away as if he’d bitten her, then retreated two hasty steps.
“I beg your pardon, my lord.”
His lips tingled from her touch, and it required a great deal of will not to run his tongue over his bottom
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