Season for Temptation by Theresa Romain

Julia asked, diverted. “If you couldn’t hop, what would you do if you hurt your ankle?”
    â€œI’d use a cane, and swat at people with it, of course. Much more fun. Besides, you look like a fool when you hop. Nothing personal, my girl; anyone would.”
    Julia rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m not going to hop in London. I just needed to get to the sofa.”
    James could see it was time to step into the conversation. “It’s very ungracious of me not to help you,” he said, and handed Julia gently onto the sofa. As she clasped his hand for him to assist her, his skin tingled with the physical thrill of it, and he drew his hand back as swiftly as manners would allow so Julia wouldn’t feel him tremble.
    â€œI’ll get you a cushion so you can prop up your foot,” he said gruffly, and found a small pillow on another chair. One all the way across the room, just to give himself time to calm down.
    It must have been the surprise of her fall; surely that was it. He felt pulled to her; he wanted to touch her, hold her, kiss her until she forgot about the pain.
    Again he averted his gaze. He shouldn’t be looking at her like that. Not lying on a sofa, helpless, laid out quiet and lovely before his eyes like a gift.
    Correction; he shouldn’t even be thinking of her like that. He shouldn’t be having any of these thoughts, for that matter.
    What was wrong with him? Had twenty-seven years of an aristocratic upbringing taught him nothing about selfcontrol? He had already chosen his wife. He might have chosen quickly and in a somewhat businesslike manner, but he had chosen well. Louisa would make a fine viscountess. For one thing, she would never clamber around on a ladder and make his heart stop with terror.
    She would never make his heart stop at all.
    He silently handed Julia the cushion, then left her side to rejoin the conversation between Louisa and Lady Irving.
    â€œI think we should get her home as soon as possible,” Louisa was saying to her aunt.
    What? No, he had to put a stop to this talk.
    â€œSurely she would be more comfortable as she is, staying here until she has a chance to recover,” he suggested. His voice had only a little squeak of desperation in it.
    â€œNo, you’re right, young missy,” Lady Irving agreed with Louisa. “She’ll do better in her own house. Closer to the surgeon’s, for one thing, in case he should be needed. But also, no telling how long she’ll be laid up.”
    The countess considered. “I can take her back to Stonemeadows, and you and Simone can stay here and complete your visit. Stay longer than we planned, even, if you like.”
    Louisa shook her head. “That will never do, ma’am. You know perfectly well you can’t get along without Simone; you need her to arrange you every morning, and she makes you comfortable throughout the day.”
    â€œVery true,” her ladyship acknowledged, running prideful hands over the bright green brocade of her gown. “I would never be able to trick myself out in style without her help.”
    James rolled his eyes. If Lady Irving’s taste was in the common style, he was . . . well, he was a baboon.
    â€œI suppose,” Louisa replied, “we will all have to go home again.” She fixed her eyes on James and looked genuinely disappointed. “I am very sorry, but I think it’s for the best.”
    She cast a longing look around the library, over the pile of scattered books on the floor. “I wish I could stay longer.”
    James forced a smile to his face. “I’m gratified to hear it.”
    He looked at the small figure on the sofa, lying as flat and still as if she had been ironed. She looked so pitiful; his heart turned over.
    â€œI feel just terrible about your sister’s fall.”
    â€œPlease don’t,” Louisa assured him. “It was an accident, and she’ll be fine. No power on