My One and Only Earl (Forever Yours #12) - Stacy Reid Page 0,13

Poppy as her heart squeezed painfully. “We met once and exchanged a few letters. Does that make us friends?”

He pressed a hand over his heart as if wounded, and his indigo eyes glinted with humor. “Do not forget I gave you my coat and walked a few miles in the biting cold to my inn without its comforting warmth.”

Oh! Poppy hated that every part of her body felt sensitized and that her heart raced. “Why did you ask to dance with me?”

“The truth?”

Her heart gave a little flutter. “Is there a reason to fib?”

“No.”

“Then your honesty is appreciated.”

A rueful smile touched his mouth. “I saw you, and immediately my senses crowded with memories of our first meeting. They were so vivid I could hear your sob, feel the weight of you in my arms, feel the softness of your lips against my jaw. And your eyes, you have the loveliest silver eyes. I wanted to see them again. Those were the thoughts which drove me to cross the expanse of the ballroom and ask you to partner me in a dance.”

Poppy was so stunned by that reply she had nothing to say. Had she been susceptible to flattery and vanity of self, Poppy might think the earl liked her. The expression in his eyes intrigued her. Poppy never had a gentleman look at her in this manner. As if he found her entirely desirable. Her breath hitched as the awareness flowed through her. James wanted her. Surely she mistook the matter.

“I…Mr. Delan…I am sorry, Lord Kingsley…you are staring.” In the most delicate manner possible, Poppy tried to ask what he wanted of her but only sounded like a bumbling fool. Irritated, she huffed out a sharp breath. “Why did you follow me out here? I am not overly familiar with the rules and etiquette of high society, but is this not inviting a scandal?”

“I was very discreet. No one saw. I wanted to know why you ran from me?”

“Should I dance with you, I would make a cake of myself,” Poppy said in an embarrassed rush. “And most certainly embarrass you.”

“Why is that?”

“I do not know how to dance,” she admitted. “I’ve only had one lesson from my brother on the waltz, and it was more for fun than any serious instructions.”

“You are a gentleman’s daughter,” James said, his brow lifting in surprise. “Your sisters seemed very accomplished.”

“I was not afforded the same opportunities,” Poppy said mildly. “Nor am I here tonight to dance and have fun. I am Rebecca’s chaperone. It is her you should ask to dance.”

“I have no wish to dance with your sister.”

Poppy stared at the earl, searching his expression. She was surprised he had not fallen instantly under Rebecca’s spell. “I…” she stopped talking, for Poppy truly had no notion of what to say.

“Richard often mentioned that growing up, your greatest wish was for a London season.”

Poppy’s heart jolted, and she waved a hand in casual dismissal. “That was more a flight of fancy from a seventeen-year-old girl who chatted her brother’s ears off about balls and musicales. I am now four and twenty, by all accounts, a spinster and firmly ineligible to be a candidate on the marriage mart. Ladies of my age do not have seasons!”

“Then you are in town only to chaperone your sister?”

“I am also hoping to find a suitable position as a governess in a respectable household.”

“You are not in jest?”

“Of course not! I cannot live on my stepmother’s goodwill forever,” Poppy said reasonably.

“Working as a governess can be a thankless position, one also fraught with its own perils, especially if your employer has roving hands.”

Shock jolted through Poppy. “Roving hands?”

“It has been known to happen.”

Poppy lifted her chin. “I will ensure it does not happen to me.”

Concern flickered in his eyes, and he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Richard,” he said with quiet contemplation, “he wanted to see you cared for and protected.”

Poppy frowned, recalling that she had mentioned to James about Mr. Rushworth. “Yes, by marrying the vicar. I do not regret my decision if that is what you are asking.” Not even when she lay in the dark of her chamber, peculiar loneliness and sadness eating at her heart. It felt decidedly unpleasant to be envious of what others possessed—a charming and adoring husband, children, a happy home.

“Do you not want a husband and children?”

Poppy stared at James, wondering at the intimate turn in their conversation. “Why do you ask me this?”

“I want to know if