Beauty Tempts the Beast (Sins for All Seasons #6) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,125
as though a thousand butterflies had suddenly escaped their cocoons to flutter around it. “Is it him?”
That was all that was needed. Jewel had been quite blunt one night in telling Althea she’d been a fool to turn him away.
“In a way.”
What the deuce did that mean?
She rose, patting her hair, seeking loose strands, tucking them back into place. Her frock was a mauve that gave a bit of color to her when of late, she’d been far too pale. Lack of sleep did that. Staring at the ceiling instead, reliving every touch, caress, and kiss.
She swept out of the study and down the stairs, forcing her steps to slow so she didn’t rush into the parlor with such haste that he would know she’d missed him dreadfully, was grateful he’d come, that to see him one more time was the wish she made upon the first star that appeared each night. In the foyer, she stopped, took two ragged breaths—that failed to calm her racing heart—pulled back her shoulders, lifted her chin, and glided in gracefully as though she’d placed a book on top of her head and didn’t want it to topple off.
The sight of him stole her breath. It required stillness to take in all of him, to take note of all the subtle changes, and Jewel’s words made sense now. In a way.
His clothing had always been well tailored, but the black trousers, gray shirt, dark gray waistcoat, black knotted neck cloth, black jacket he wore now was more so. It looked as though he’d been melted down and poured into the attire. His hair, still long, had been styled in such a way that it provided a frame for his face. In one hand, he held a walking stick and beaver top hat. But it was more than the outer trimmings.
Confidence, power, and strength had always shimmered around him, but now they seemed sleeker, yet more potent. She remembered Danny saying the Trewloves were royalty within Whitechapel. Now Benedict gave the impression of being royalty anywhere he appeared, even among the aristocracy. People would sense his presence when he walked into a room. Ladies would desire and men would envy. He’d never looked more gorgeous . . . or more alone.
“How was Scotland?” she finally managed to ask.
“I didnae expect it to be so beautiful.”
She couldn’t stop her smile from forming at the slightest hint of a brogue.
“But I have difficulty understanding half of what they say. I’m not familiar with some of the words they use and most Scots have such a thick brogue . . . you ken?”
She gave a quick laugh. “I do understand. But in time you’ll become accustomed to it, and you’ll sound as though you grew up there.”
“I doubt that.” She heard no Scot at all now, just the English accent that had marked his words before he left. “How have you been?”
Awful, terrible. “Busy. We have several ladies living here now.”
“That doesn’t tell me how you are.”
She wanted to look away from him, afraid he was seeing into her too deeply, but didn’t want to lose a second of having him in her sight, because she might never see him again. It would be a mistake to say it, but she said it anyway. “I miss you. More than I thought it possible to miss a person.”
He studied her. Say something, say something, say something.
“You were right about the aristocracy. It’s nothing like living in the rookeries. You told me about servants lighting the fires. I didn’t know they were called to stir the blasted thing. You have two dukes. One is more important than the other. You better make certain you sit them at the correct place at the table.” He shook his head. “Relatively quickly I’m going to have to take a wife—someone who grew up among the aristocracy and knows all the finer details to help me navigate my way through Society.”
Certain he was going to ask her once more, she began lining up her arguments for why it couldn’t be her, but they sounded hollow now in light of how much she’d missed him.
“My father assures me I’ll have no trouble a’tall finding a lady willing to marry me.”
Her heart thudded with the realization that another woman would be the recipient of his proposal. All for the best. With a great deal of effort, she managed to say, “I’m sure you won’t.”
He held her gaze with such intensity, she thought it would be impossible