Angel in Scarlet (Bound and Determined #4)(45)

After he had seen the most intimate parts of her, parts even she could not describe. And after he’d watched her find her pleasure. That was perhaps what left her the most vulnerable. He had seen her when she had no emotional disguise, when all her feelings were laid bare.

Making up her mind, she began to stride quickly toward the lake, her slippers crunching upon the gravel, but she was unable to push the man from her mind.

What did he have in mind for their time here? He’d seemed so confident, and she’d certainly heard many stories of what could happen at house parties, but she’d never been to one that offered much chance of escape for a young lady. An older woman or a married one could slip off and no one would remark upon it, but despite Colton’s assurance, she doubted that her mother would give her more than those twenty minutes of freedom.

Granted, she imagined that much could be accomplished in twenty minutes, but it would still be as frustrating as it was rewarding.

Reaching the edge of the lake, she peered about. The season had progressed faster here than in London. A few of the trees were beginning to lose their leaves and the water was coated with the fallen. It looked almost solid enough to walk across in its mottled pattern of browns and yellows. A fabric in just such a print would have been most becoming.

“Are you thinking of going for a swim?”

She turned. Colton. The sinking sun was behind him, casting his face in shadows, but she could still feel the power of his gaze, feel the tingles of awareness that ran through her at his nearness.

“I hadn’t planned on it, but you gave me such a start I almost toppled in,” she replied.

“You seem remarkably steady to me. And I am surprised you didn’t hear me. Although perhaps the freshly fallen leaves muffled my steps.”

The quietest racket she had ever heard. “Where did you come from? Surely not the main house—unless you were following me.”

“I certainly would have, but I would have caught up with you before this, so that I could have had the pleasure of your company for longer.”

She resisted the urge to scoff, looking over at his shoulder, up at the house, and sidling away from him. “I am not sure how much we should be seen together. I fear that there will be talk.”

“Lady Perse has already asked my intentions, although in slightly different words.”

“I am sorry, although it was your idea to come.”

“Don’t worry. I explained everything to her.”

“You did?” She took a step back, sure that her dismay was apparent on her face.

“Don’t be foolish. I merely told her that we had both decided we did not suit but we did not believe that was any reason to end our friendship.” He reached out, grabbing her shoulder. “And don’t step back any farther or you truly will be taking a swim. I should warn you, the water is much deeper than one would expect. Lady Perse believes that a lake should be of a good depth for swimming and boating, not that I imagine many partake in a dip here, in view of the house.”

“I will keep that in mind—and what of fishing? Does she keep it stocked?” This time she inched to the side and eased around him, coming to stand a few feet away. Her shoulder missed the warmth of his touch, but she must restrain herself—and keep distance between them, at least as long as they were in any public space.

“I believe she does, but you would probably like it better if there were not a fish in it; then you could sit all day with your rod and not worry about catching anything.”

A small giggle. “Yes, and it wouldn’t matter if I used bait or not. What a lovely idea. I think from this point on I shall only fish in empty lakes.”

“You will start a new fashion. Perhaps I will join you and give it a try.”

“Somehow I cannot imagine you sitting still for so long with no activity.” She kicked at the scattering of leaves.

“I would have thought the same of you. I’ve never known you to be still.”

Was that true? She rather thought she was still a lot, but perhaps he was right. She had always felt nervous energy around him, even after she had seen him in the theater. “I can be still.”

“We will have to put that to practice sometime.” Crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes, and it was impossible to know exactly what he thought. “I will enjoy seeing just how long you can stay still.”

Why did he think it would be so hard?

He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek.

She shivered.

Oh. She began to understand. Yes, that might make it hard. She shied away, flustered. “And where will we try being still?”

“Actually, that is why I sought you out. I came to ask which room you have been given.”

“I am on the third floor, the second door down. I am placed between my mother and a widow just coming out of mourning, named Mrs. Links. I don’t believe I’ve ever met her before, but she seems a decent sort.”

“?‘A decent sort’—you sound like my great-aunt Martha.”

“Well, it’s hard to know how to describe someone after a few moments of conversation.”

“It happens I do know Mrs. Links, and I am not sure at all that your description is accurate. She has quite the habit of grabbing at a man’s tender parts.”

“Really?” She could not imagine any such thing. Mrs. Links had seemed so respectable.