Mischief and Mistletoe - Stacy Reid Page 0,20
one that set his heart to pounding. He noted the sprigs of mistletoe and berries hanging from the roof by lengthy pieces of ribbons. She had apparently hoped her mother would be ravished, and Graham knew if his father had ended up here with Lady Danby, what Miss Middleton hoped for would have happened.
The scheming, mischievous minx, he thought a bit too fondly.
“You do realize no matter where you are in this cottage, you will be under a mistletoe,” he murmured soft and wicked.
A becoming flush crept up her slender neck, pinkening her fair cheeks. She grasped something from the mantle, and he noted it was a deck of cards.
“How thoughtful of you to provide some entertainment beyond debauchery,” he mocked.
She cast him a wide-eyed glance. “That was never my intention.”
“Your delightful nose warned you of rain, and you ruthlessly conspired to have two people alone so far away from the estate trapped here. No one will come looking since this squall seems like it will last the rest of the evening, and everyone should be too busy with the planned entertainment to worry about any missing party members. Well played, Miss Middleton, well played.”
He spread his hands wide. “Except, it is me you have gotten here, and I wonder if I should fear for my virtue. You are an odd and improper sort of lady; I cannot fathom your intentions.”
She folded her hands about her middle, canted her head, and stared at him. Though she tried to appear nonchalant, her lovely eyes danced with mirth. “I never expected us to end up here, Viscount Sherbrooke.”
“Nonsense! You should have convinced me more about the wonders of your twitching nose. Now for the next few hours, I shall live in fear of ravishment.”
She giggled, and the sweetness of the sound burrowed into his heart and filled him with a peculiar but welcoming warmth.
She batted her lashes. “You need not fear debauchery from me, Viscount Sherbrooke, I promise your virtue will be intact when we leave here. I will conduct myself most admirably!”
He wanted her. A few kisses, but it would be most difficult to prevent himself from doing more…and there was no understanding between them. Perplexingly, he found himself wanting to make promises. Graham want to woo her and get to know every wonderful detail about Miss Callie Middleton. He governed his needs, for he was not rash in his behavior but meticulous and pragmatic. Yet, she inspired his heart to throw caution to the winds! “Ah…pity that, however, I shall practice gentlemanly restraint.”
Her red, delectable lips formed an ‘O.’
“Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” he crooned, shifting closer to her.
She blushed, wrinkled her nose before gracing him with another pretty smile. “Perhaps we could read or play cards…or just talk. I am frightfully curious about you and have been for some time.”
It was then he noted a few leather-bound volumes atop the mantle. It seemed she had planned a non-lustful manner of entertainment for their parents. How innocent. “I am curious about you as well.”
She sent him a saucy wink. “Mutually assured madness is always welcome.”
Bloody hell, he was charmed.
“We’ve been neighbors for a while but have hardly crossed paths.” This bit she admitted shyly.
“I do not live here at Holliwell Manor. I recently bought a townhouse and a country estate with some investments, which gave me handsome returns.”
“Those properties are not entailed to the earldom?”
“No, I must plan for the eventuality of having more than one child. I would like to afford my daughters or second son with more opportunities than the army or the clergy.”
Mischief danced in her eyes. “Oh, la-la! So, you do plan to marry.”
“Eventually. I know my duty.”
“Is that all marriage is to you? Duty? What about love?” she questioned.
He lifted a shoulder in an indifferent shrug. “It is not a requirement for marriage.”
She scoffed. “I daresay it should be!”
“Why?”
“Surely you jest?”
“I never do about matters of the heart.”
They sat before the small table, and he poured wine in two glasses. She took the drink he handed to her and sipped appreciatively.
“At least you will admit to having a heart.”
He chuckled, genuinely enjoying her rejoinders.
She peered at him over the rim of her wine glass. “Can you imagine spending the rest of your life with a woman you barely liked? Though I wish to marry and have my own home, it would mortify me to marry a gentleman I did not esteem. How can you think to marry without sentiments?”
No, he could not