Always a Maiden (The Belles of Beak Street #5)(7)

He scanned the room and his eyes lit on the man who had handed him the note. He crossed to him and asked, “Who asked you to give this to me?”

“A young lady, sir,” the footman said in a low tone. He cast anxious glances right and left.

“Which young lady?” demanded Evan.

The footman leaned toward his ear, cupped his hands around his mouth, and whispered, “Lady Susanah Poole, sir.”

Lady Susanah? Evan shook his head almost wondering if he’d heard correctly.

Unmarried ladies didn’t send letters to men. At least not to men to whom they weren’t related nor engaged. And Lady Susanah was a stickler for the rules. Perhaps there was some exemption for brief notes or imperious commands.

He was of half a mind to ignore the summons, but curiosity got the better of him. He made his way through the crowded ballroom to the less crowded dining room.

Lady Susanah was there clutching a nearly empty glass of lemonade. Her gaze darted to him as he entered the room. She took the last sip of the drink and handed the empty glass to a footman. Then she put her head down and walked toward him—and then as he gave a slight bow, she walked past him.

“My lady,”—he followed her out the into the entry hall—“Did you not ask to speak with me?”

“I have to get back,” she whispered. “My mother will come looking for me any second, and I can’t be seen with you.”

“Did you need help in staging another convenient excuse for a hasty exit?” He fell into step beside her as she climbed the stairs to the ballroom.

“No. I…where have you been?”

Surely, she hadn’t expected him to leap at her command. “I was in conversation.”

She cast him a sideways glance. “For the last three weeks?”

“For the last ten minutes,” he explained. Had she been looking for him? “Did you miss me?”

“I waited fifteen,” she said tightly. “Five more minutes than I intended.”

She’d missed him. She just wouldn’t say so. A jolt of heat ran through his veins.

“My apologies,” he murmured. “How may I be of service?”

“May I ask a favor of you?” Her gaze darted around as if worried about being overheard.

“You may certainly ask.” Whether or not he would grant it remained to be seen. But what on earth Lady Susanah might want him to do sparked his interest.

“I can’t ask you here.” Her voice was hushed, and she ended up biting on her lower lip, which had the stirring effect of making him want to touch it and sooth any hurt from it. “I shouldn’t be seen with you at all.”

Well, he was nothing if not obliging. From the landing, it was just a couple of steps to the servants’ stairs. He slung his arm around her waist and whisked her into the dark narrow staircase and pulled the door shut behind them. “No one will see us here, except possibly a servant.”

The moonlight filtering in from the skylight above didn’t provide much illumination, but Lady Susanah did seem a bit flustered if her gasp and sudden stiffening were indications enough.

“We shouldn’t be in here,” she whispered fiercely. She put a hand in the center of his chest, straightened her arm, then backed away so the tips of her fingers were not quite brushing his coat buttons.

Obviously, she knew a thing or two about fending off unwanted advances. Sadly, it seemed a kiss wasn’t what she had in mind. But then he would not expect her to be open to one upon their second conversation.

“We shouldn’t,” he agreed. “Yet, this is the most privacy I can offer, unless…” He tilted his head to the side watching her. He let the word dangle. With a married woman or widow, he might suggest looking for a bedchamber. But a seduction with a maiden was a dicier thing. One didn’t suggest anything more than a stolen kiss at this juncture. Really he shouldn’t be suggesting anything at all.

“I thought…” She looked down making it more difficult to read her expression. “I thought perhaps you could teach me about p-passion.”

“What?” So much for an interesting, long drawn out seduction. What the bloody hell was she thinking? “No!”





Chapter 3





No? Susanah’s feet were nailed to the floor. How could Mr. Cooper say no? How dare he refuse her? “But you’re a rake.”

Or did he not find her the least bit desirable? The tips of her ears caught fire. She wanted to flee. Only he stood in front of the door.

“Susanah,” he said on an exhale as if she were a very troublesome sort of girl.

“I did not give you leave to call me by my given name.” Her heart was pounding before, but now each beat carried a knife jab. “And it isn’t as though I want you to marry me.”

His brows drew in. “Well, that is a relief.”

She’d meant to take her time and explain her predicament and ask for his assurances he wouldn’t ruin her—at least not completely. But he didn’t have to insult her. If nothing else she was quite a catch on the marriage market. Her dowry was generous, and she would inherit her father’s considerable estate. And he, a man with no expectations, was acting as though he wouldn’t want to be financially secure. She shook her head and looked desperately at the door. Her mother would be looking for her. She was never allowed to stray far or long.