The Notorious Scoundrel by Alexandra Benedict

after that curt remark. Had he reconsidered his offer of assistance? Did he now think it was too great an effort to see her settled as a lady’s maid or companion? Did he resent her for putting the burden on him?
    “Are you angry with me?” she snapped.
    He frowned. “No.” He cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Why do you think that?”
    Amy was strapped for words as she delved deep into his haunting eyes. The soulful expression bewitched her. She listened to the gentle crackle of the burning wood, and sensed the heat crackling in her belly aswell, for the warm, strong feel of his touch on her skin chased away all her uneasiness, stirring other, more pleasant feelings.
    “You’ve been so reserved,” she said in a near whisper. “I thought something was wrong.”
    He stared at her intently, as he was wont to do, brushing his thumb across her chin in feathery strokes, making her bones quiver in the slowly warming room.
    “I’m not angry with you, Amy.” He pressed his thumb against her lips and she started at the intimate contact. “Not with you.”
    Then with whom? she wondered. His brothers? It was obvious that the brood cared for one another. After all, they had searched for Edmund during his absence. And the eldest brute was keen to keep them all safe, even from the likes of her. Yet she was too engrossed by the scoundrel’s close proximity, his sensuous touch, and soon the questions flittered from her mind, and she concentrated on just him.
    Edmund.
    As his thumb smoothed her jawline, she struggled to keep her breathing steady, but each heartbeat was erratic and her lungs shuddered at the scoundrel’s gentle caresses.
    Amy suspected a seduction. She suspected the man was lulling her senses for some nefarious purpose, yet she still remained rooted to the spot, unaccustomed to the ginger taps of his fingertips…and yearning for them even more. She wondered what it would feel likeif he kissed her right then, pressed his hot mouth over her lips…
    “Good night, Amy.”
    He dropped his hand away from her face in an abrupt manner, leaving her dazzled. She stared at him, confused, as he lazily moved through the room and departed, shutting the doors softly behind him.
    Amy folded her arms across her bust and scowled.

Chapter 8
    “H ere it is!”
    Quincy entered the sitting room with a thick book in his hands. He seated himself in a brown leather chair next to Amy, and smiled.
    Edmund frowned. It was his responsibility to look after Amy’s needs, to see her well established, and yet he had been usurped of the duty by his cheeky younger sibling.
    “What is it?” said Amy, leaning closer to Quincy as she peered at the tome with curiosity, arousing Edmund’s hackles.
    Quincy lifted the green leather binding and blew away the layer of dust, the particles swirling in the air. “ The Book of Etiquette . My sister, Belle, gifted it to me about five years ago when I first entered society.”
    “It appears new.”
    “It is. Look.” He turned the spine. “Not a crack in the binding. I’ve never even opened it.”
    Edmund snorted.
    Quincy glanced at his brother with a mischievous expression. “I don’t need a book to teach me about proper manners and charm. You, on the other hand…”
    Amy disarmed the darkening temperaments when she gathered the heavy tome into her hands and set it in her lap, leafing through the pages in an idle fashion.
    Edmund followed her artful movements with keen interest, dismissing his brother from his thoughts. He watched her as she caressed each corner page, genuinely engrossed by the words on the sheets of paper…that she couldn’t read. It must be so unsatisfying for her, he mused, to have the knowledge literally at her fingertips, and yet be unable to access the information.
    Amy carefully closed the book and returned it to a puzzled Quincy.
    “You’ll need to read it,” he said, “if you intend to be a lady’s maid or companion.”
    Edmund gauged the