Rebel Marquess by Amy Sandas Page A

manners, I suppose there is not,” she conceded with a reluctant grin. What was it about his haughtiness she found so amusing? His unbelievable conceit should annoy her, yet she felt somehow most of it was a put on. “You inspect the flowers in the cover of darkness, which I am sure you realize will make it difficult to determine the exact hue , rather than be forced to engage in a social interaction with those you have no personal interest in.”
    “Correct.”
    “It is amazing the lengths to which you will go in order to remain elusive and detached from those who would seek your company.”
    “Not amazing, just something I have been practicing for many years,” he drawled.
    She laughed then, unable to hold it back any longer. And when she turned to look at him seated at the other end of the small bench, she could have sworn she saw one side of his mouth lifting in a smirk of humor.
    “What? Is that…” She leaned forward dramatically to get a closer look. “It couldn’t be. Is that a smile, my lord?”
    His chuckle was barely audible, but Eliza heard it as close as she was, and the lovely rumbled tones warmed her from the inside out.
    “Do not tell anyone,” he ordered.
    There was a new heaviness in his voice, an intimacy in the tone she noted immediately in the way her body responded with a heightened level of sentience. She felt an inexplicable urge to curl her toes into his lap.
    His gaze pierced intently through the shadowed night. “Miss Terribury.”
    “Yes?” she murmured, wondering if he would mind if she scooted just a bit closer on the bench.
    “I believe there is something…” he turned his great shoulders toward her and cocked his head, “…yes, there is something on your shoulder.”
    She stiffened abruptly, a chill racing down her spine. “Excuse me?”
    He leaned in a little closer and his exotic masculine scent drifted to her.
    “Just a spider,” he said then and lifted a hand as if he intended to brush it away.
    But it was too late.
    Eliza heard the word spider and her entire body went into flight mode. She jumped to her feet before it even registered he might be able to vacate the crawly creature from her person without much ado. But then spiders always managed to completely erase the rational part of her brain with no effort at all. It was the thought of those many legs that always had her jumping from her skin. The fact that she actually had one of the things on her was too much to bear. She brushed wildly at her shoulder and turned about as if trying to see every angle of her own person at once, muttering all the curse words she knew under her breath in an effort to stem the rising panic.
    “Miss Terribury. Miss Terribury, calm yourself.”
    It took a few moments to realize the marquess had risen from the bench as well and had grasped her arms to still her frantic movements. He leaned toward her, putting his face directly in front of her to get her attention. “Miss Terribury, if you would stop dancing about, I will check to see if he is still there.”
    Eliza forced a measure of control over herself that took Herculean effort, though her feet continued an agitated little dance on the stone floor. She craned her neck around to get a look at her shoulder. “Is it a he?” she asked. “I hope it’s a he. I understand the females of the species can be larger and more vicious. Oh, please let it be a he,” she ended on a plaintive whine.
    “Stand still and I will have a look.”
    His smoothed his large hands up and down the length of her arms. As a soothing gesture it worked well to ease her alarm. She held herself as rigid as possible as she waited for his verdict. The scent of him and the great solid warmth of his body so close to her managed to calm and distract her enough so she felt she might be able to think clearly again.
    Still rubbing her arms, he met her eyes. “I do not seeit. I imagine you shook it lose.”
    Eliza sighed heavily, slumping her shoulders. Relief