was unselfish. And trustworthy.
For the first time in his life, someone other than Justin or Victoria—and a woman in particular—was treating him with sincerity, warmth, and kindness, and expected nothing in return. Something that had never happened to Stephen Alexander Barrett, eighth Marquess of Glenfield. But it has happened to Stephen Barrettson, tutor. The realization hit Stephen like a bolt of lightning, rendering him speechless. How extraordinary that a commoner would have something a marquess didn't.
"Please forgive me, Mr. Barrettson," she said, her quiet voice breaking into his reverie. "I was only teasing, but I've clearly made you uncomfortable with my question." She raised serious round eyes to his. "I'm sorry."
"On the contrary, Miss Albright. It is I who should apologize. You've shown me nothing but the utmost kindness. You are obviously most trustworthy."
He could not help but notice the pleasure that washed over her face at his words. Another blush bloomed on her cheeks.
"Well, now that that is settled," she said with a nervous-sounding laugh, "I must take my leave. I have quite a number of chores to attend to before the children return."
"Of course. Thank you again for shaving me. I feel almost human." He ran his palms over his smooth cheeks. "And it appears I'm not bleeding and my ears are quite intact and still attached."
She flashed him a grin. "As promised." She turned and headed toward the door.
"Miss Albright?"
Hayley paused in the doorway and turned. "Yes?"
Stephen wasn't sure why he'd called her. "I, er, I will see you at dinner," he said, feeling foolish.
A dimpled smile lit her face. "Yes, Mr. Barrettson. At
six o'clock
. I suggest you rest until then." She left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Damn it all, he couldn't wait until
six o'clock
.
Chapter 8
« ^ »
A fter Hayley left him, Stephen tried to rest, but his mind was too full, his thoughts too active for him to doze off. He attempted to formulate a plan to trap his assassin, but the task proved impossible. His mind was occupied by something else.
Miss Hayley Albright.
Much to his annoyance, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. She was attractive, but he knew many women who were far more beautiful.
And it definitely wasn't her madcap household that drew him. Their behavior stopped just short of appalling, but it certainly would not be in his best interests to point that out to his hostess.
Restless, annoyed, and thoroughly out of sorts, he paced around the room. What the hell was it about her that stirred him so? He irritably recalled how the mere feel of her breasts brushing his arm had made his loins throb to life. He paused, trying to remember the last time he'd had a woman. With an exclamation of disgust, he realized he had last visited his mistress nearly three weeks ago. It was highly unusual for him to abstain for such an extended period. No wonder his body had reacted to Hayley. It was starved for release. The sooner he got back to London and his mistress, the better.
Physical release. Yes, that was all he needed. An extended sexual romp.
Yet even with images of lovemaking swirling in his mind, Stephen could not conjure up his petite blonde mistress's beautiful face. In his mind's eye, he kissed a tall, slim, chestnut haired woman who looked at him through incredible aqua eyes. Stephen imagined the feel of her full lips beneath his, the warmth of her body pressed against him.
Uttering a savage oath, Stephen shook his head to clear it and willed his body to calmness. He would be leaving here within a few weeks. Hayley Albright was nothing more than an on-the-shelf spinster. With eyes a man could get lost in, and a caring, compassionate heart she apparently opens to everyone. A teasing smile and a delightful, unexpected blush. Not to mention a lush, curvaceous body that begs to be touched…
Letting loose another growl of disgust,
For the first time in his life, someone other than Justin or Victoria—and a woman in particular—was treating him with sincerity, warmth, and kindness, and expected nothing in return. Something that had never happened to Stephen Alexander Barrett, eighth Marquess of Glenfield. But it has happened to Stephen Barrettson, tutor. The realization hit Stephen like a bolt of lightning, rendering him speechless. How extraordinary that a commoner would have something a marquess didn't.
"Please forgive me, Mr. Barrettson," she said, her quiet voice breaking into his reverie. "I was only teasing, but I've clearly made you uncomfortable with my question." She raised serious round eyes to his. "I'm sorry."
"On the contrary, Miss Albright. It is I who should apologize. You've shown me nothing but the utmost kindness. You are obviously most trustworthy."
He could not help but notice the pleasure that washed over her face at his words. Another blush bloomed on her cheeks.
"Well, now that that is settled," she said with a nervous-sounding laugh, "I must take my leave. I have quite a number of chores to attend to before the children return."
"Of course. Thank you again for shaving me. I feel almost human." He ran his palms over his smooth cheeks. "And it appears I'm not bleeding and my ears are quite intact and still attached."
She flashed him a grin. "As promised." She turned and headed toward the door.
"Miss Albright?"
Hayley paused in the doorway and turned. "Yes?"
Stephen wasn't sure why he'd called her. "I, er, I will see you at dinner," he said, feeling foolish.
A dimpled smile lit her face. "Yes, Mr. Barrettson. At
six o'clock
. I suggest you rest until then." She left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Damn it all, he couldn't wait until
six o'clock
.
Chapter 8
« ^ »
A fter Hayley left him, Stephen tried to rest, but his mind was too full, his thoughts too active for him to doze off. He attempted to formulate a plan to trap his assassin, but the task proved impossible. His mind was occupied by something else.
Miss Hayley Albright.
Much to his annoyance, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. She was attractive, but he knew many women who were far more beautiful.
And it definitely wasn't her madcap household that drew him. Their behavior stopped just short of appalling, but it certainly would not be in his best interests to point that out to his hostess.
Restless, annoyed, and thoroughly out of sorts, he paced around the room. What the hell was it about her that stirred him so? He irritably recalled how the mere feel of her breasts brushing his arm had made his loins throb to life. He paused, trying to remember the last time he'd had a woman. With an exclamation of disgust, he realized he had last visited his mistress nearly three weeks ago. It was highly unusual for him to abstain for such an extended period. No wonder his body had reacted to Hayley. It was starved for release. The sooner he got back to London and his mistress, the better.
Physical release. Yes, that was all he needed. An extended sexual romp.
Yet even with images of lovemaking swirling in his mind, Stephen could not conjure up his petite blonde mistress's beautiful face. In his mind's eye, he kissed a tall, slim, chestnut haired woman who looked at him through incredible aqua eyes. Stephen imagined the feel of her full lips beneath his, the warmth of her body pressed against him.
Uttering a savage oath, Stephen shook his head to clear it and willed his body to calmness. He would be leaving here within a few weeks. Hayley Albright was nothing more than an on-the-shelf spinster. With eyes a man could get lost in, and a caring, compassionate heart she apparently opens to everyone. A teasing smile and a delightful, unexpected blush. Not to mention a lush, curvaceous body that begs to be touched…
Letting loose another growl of disgust,
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