, he told himself. That would solve everything .
She glanced over her shoulder. “I would suppose, given your familial inclinations, assignations in the front closet are quite commonplace. I’ll have you know, they are not in mine.”
“They aren’t in mine, either,” he said, drawing himself up. “This…this…display was a complete aberration.”
“Now I am an ‘aberration?’” Her nose went up in the air.
Oh, the devil take it , he thought. That wasn’t what he’d meant at all.
What had he meant?
He certainly couldn’t tell her the truth—that her kiss had been like nothing he’d ever experienced. That to hold her in his arms was like being able to contain quicksilver—something elusive, vital and filled with fire. That when he brought his lips to hers all he could hear were the haunting lines of John Donne.
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove.
How was he supposed to tell her that in one kiss, he’d inherited everything he’d disavowed? That having tasted her lips, the memory of her kiss would haunt his mind, his soul?
“Well?” she was asking.
He glanced up. “What?”
Her eyes widened and she tipped her head, as if prompting him that the next line was his.
He shrugged, for he hadn’t the vaguest idea what one did in these circumstances.
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” she finally asked.
Apologize? Apparently an expression of regret was expected in these situations. Not that he regretted kissing her.
Well, yes he did, he tried to tell himself. It had muddled everything. Still, if an apology was the thing needed to set the situation to rights, apologize he must. He smiled at her, thankful that one of them had experience in this area. He didn’t think it was quite necessary, but then again, society’s rules had baffled him on more than one instance.
He put his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels. “Madame, I offer my sincerest regrets and apology for my lack of restraint a few moments ago. Kissing you was an inexcusable act and completely without merit.”
There, he thought. That ought to solve everything.
Her face pinked again, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment. Why the lady looked quite capable of murder.
“Why, you arrogant, doltish, mangy, shallow-hearted—”
Mason was only too glad to see Belton and Hashim arrive in the foyer, for he had a feeling she was merely winding up for the real insults.
“—Ashlin!” she finished.
Apparently, being an Ashlin was the worst thing she could come up with. Well, considering his family’s reputation, it was probably the worst thing one could cast up.
“Hashim,” she said. “We are leaving.”
Snatching up her skirt, she turned in a swish of silk and stomped toward the front door like Cleopatra.
“No, not the front door,” he said.
Her royal procession of two came to an abrupt halt. Slowly she turned to him, one brow cocked in a questioning arch.
“Someone might see you, Madame,” Belton finished for him.
“I can see how that would be a tragedy to your reputation,” she said.
Mason flinched.
“This way, Madame,” Belton said, nodding toward the servant’s door. “There is a carriage waiting in the mews.”
“My lord,” she said stiffly, nodding to Mason.
He bowed back. As he rose, Mason didn’t miss the puzzled glance Hashim shot in his direction, as if the man were trying to figure out what had happened between them in the little time since Lady Delander’s arrival.
“Tomorrow then,” Mason called after her. “At seven.”
“Yes, my lord,” she replied. “We’ll be here at seven.”
He cleared his throat. “We?”
“We,” she said firmly. “Hashim and I.”
Shaking his head, Mason replied, “I thought we agreed that Mr. Hashim would not be accompanying you.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” she told him. “Hashim’s services will be indispensable to the girls’ first lesson.”
He eyed the silent Turk. He was almost
She glanced over her shoulder. “I would suppose, given your familial inclinations, assignations in the front closet are quite commonplace. I’ll have you know, they are not in mine.”
“They aren’t in mine, either,” he said, drawing himself up. “This…this…display was a complete aberration.”
“Now I am an ‘aberration?’” Her nose went up in the air.
Oh, the devil take it , he thought. That wasn’t what he’d meant at all.
What had he meant?
He certainly couldn’t tell her the truth—that her kiss had been like nothing he’d ever experienced. That to hold her in his arms was like being able to contain quicksilver—something elusive, vital and filled with fire. That when he brought his lips to hers all he could hear were the haunting lines of John Donne.
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove.
How was he supposed to tell her that in one kiss, he’d inherited everything he’d disavowed? That having tasted her lips, the memory of her kiss would haunt his mind, his soul?
“Well?” she was asking.
He glanced up. “What?”
Her eyes widened and she tipped her head, as if prompting him that the next line was his.
He shrugged, for he hadn’t the vaguest idea what one did in these circumstances.
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” she finally asked.
Apologize? Apparently an expression of regret was expected in these situations. Not that he regretted kissing her.
Well, yes he did, he tried to tell himself. It had muddled everything. Still, if an apology was the thing needed to set the situation to rights, apologize he must. He smiled at her, thankful that one of them had experience in this area. He didn’t think it was quite necessary, but then again, society’s rules had baffled him on more than one instance.
He put his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels. “Madame, I offer my sincerest regrets and apology for my lack of restraint a few moments ago. Kissing you was an inexcusable act and completely without merit.”
There, he thought. That ought to solve everything.
Her face pinked again, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment. Why the lady looked quite capable of murder.
“Why, you arrogant, doltish, mangy, shallow-hearted—”
Mason was only too glad to see Belton and Hashim arrive in the foyer, for he had a feeling she was merely winding up for the real insults.
“—Ashlin!” she finished.
Apparently, being an Ashlin was the worst thing she could come up with. Well, considering his family’s reputation, it was probably the worst thing one could cast up.
“Hashim,” she said. “We are leaving.”
Snatching up her skirt, she turned in a swish of silk and stomped toward the front door like Cleopatra.
“No, not the front door,” he said.
Her royal procession of two came to an abrupt halt. Slowly she turned to him, one brow cocked in a questioning arch.
“Someone might see you, Madame,” Belton finished for him.
“I can see how that would be a tragedy to your reputation,” she said.
Mason flinched.
“This way, Madame,” Belton said, nodding toward the servant’s door. “There is a carriage waiting in the mews.”
“My lord,” she said stiffly, nodding to Mason.
He bowed back. As he rose, Mason didn’t miss the puzzled glance Hashim shot in his direction, as if the man were trying to figure out what had happened between them in the little time since Lady Delander’s arrival.
“Tomorrow then,” Mason called after her. “At seven.”
“Yes, my lord,” she replied. “We’ll be here at seven.”
He cleared his throat. “We?”
“We,” she said firmly. “Hashim and I.”
Shaking his head, Mason replied, “I thought we agreed that Mr. Hashim would not be accompanying you.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” she told him. “Hashim’s services will be indispensable to the girls’ first lesson.”
He eyed the silent Turk. He was almost
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