Scoundrel. Rakehell. Skilled kisser. Strike that—exceedingly skilled kisser. Handsome rogue. Sinfully charming. Observant. Peculiar. Witty.
Tempting. So very, very tempting.
Sigh. What was it about him that was turning her into a ninny? Mere days ago, she had considered him the enemy. And now? Now, he was decidedly something else. Something she would not contemplate.
“Is something amiss, dearest Jo?” Her friend Callie’s voice interrupted her musings. “You look as if you are about to fall asleep into your tea.”
Jo was sure she was flushing. Again. Ever since a certain man had entered her life, she had been doing a more than reasonable amount of that.
Lady Helena Davenport, who had joined them for tea at Callie’s townhome this afternoon, chimed in before Jo could answer. “Please tell us it is something exciting that has you nodding off at your cup and not that we are boring you dreadfully.”
Golden-haired and statuesque, Lady Helena was a welcome addition to their coterie of friends. She was outspoken and had an excellent sense of humor.
“Of course you are not boring me dreadfully,” Jo denied. “I have spent a few nights staying up late reading. That is all.”
“What book is it?” Callie asked. “I have been looking for something to keep me occupied while Sinclair is busy arranging improvements upon Helston Hall.”
Drat. Perhaps she ought to have crafted a better excuse. Jo had not read a book in ages.
“It is the most entertaining book,” she hedged, her voice sounding weak, even to her own ears. “Filled with inappropriate humor and…desserts.”
That was a rather pathetic attempt, Josephine.
Moreover, it sounded as if she had just described her evening with Decker, sans kisses of course.
“What is the title?” Lady Helena asked. “I am in desperate need of an escape from the tragedy otherwise known as my life.”
Unfortunately for Lady Helena, her father was pressuring her to marry one of his political cronies, the odious Lord Hamish White. Lord Hamish was an unforgiving, cold stickler for propriety who promised to make a lively young woman like Lady Helena utterly miserable. A marriage between them would end in one of two ways: she would make him mad with her refusal to bend to his dictates, or he would crush her spirits.
Jo cleared her throat, searching her mind for the title of the last book she had read. When nothing came to mind, she decided to do what she must—invent one. “The Devil of London, I believe it is called.”
There. One could only hope Callie and Lady Helena would forget all about the book’s title before going off in search of it. Moreover, it was a fitting way to describe the man who was haunting her thoughts and keeping her up so late at night. Not just with their illicit jaunts. After she returned home, she would lay awake in her lonely bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, thinking of him, and tossing and turning and burning alive.
“Sounds thrilling,” Callie said, taking a sip of tea. “I shall borrow your copy when you are finished reading it.”
“And I will borrow it from you afterward,” Lady Helena decided.
Wonderful. Now her friends were expecting to borrow a book that did not exist. She ought to have known better than to offer a prevarication instead of the truth.
“Er, it is a very long book,” she said. “Long and exceedingly complicated. I have many, many pages awaiting me. Indeed, I will probably be reading it for several more weeks, at least.”
Lady Helena frowned. “Complicated? I thought you said it was entertaining and filled with inappropriate humor.”
“And desserts,” Callie added, grinning. “I have been ravenous for desserts recently. All I want is sugar and kedgeree, all day long. It is the strangest thing, I vow. Poor Sinclair has been suffering through breakfasts and dinners of kedgeree each night for the last week alone on my behalf.”
Callie was expecting her first child with her husband, and though her delicate condition was cleverly hidden beneath the fabric of her handsome gown, she would soon begin to show. Although she had been ill at the onset of her pregnancy, recently, she had been spending her days looking like a glowing goddess.
“That is because Lord Sinclair is a wonderful husband,” Lady Helena said with a wistful smile. “I am happy for you, that you have been fortunate to marry a man who adores and worships you. When I think of spending the rest of my life tied to Lord Hamish, I want to retch.”
Thank heavens they seemed to have fled the topic