The Secret Wallflower Society - Jillian Eaton Page 0,40
but it was long, and thick, and swept back off his temple in loose waves as if he had a habit of running his hands through it.
He was decidedly handsome, this Stephen Darby, Viscount Ware. Almost unfairly so. But the intelligent gleam in his eye told her he wasn’t just another empty-headed dandy. Her interest unwillingly piqued, Helena’s gown swished against her ankles as she spun gracefully towards him, her hand trailing along the curved marble edge of the fountain.
“What are you doing out here, Lord Ware? I would think a man of your charms would be inside wooing wallflowers rather than skulking in the shadows.”
He arched a brow. “Wallflowers are woefully overrated, and I’ve never skulked anywhere in my life, Lady…”
“Miss,” she corrected. “Miss Helena Holton.”
“Miss Helena Holton,” he murmured, and the way he spoke her name – as if he were caressing it with his tongue – sent a share of awareness down her spine. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am sorry, however, that we did not meet before tonight.”
“Oh?” Her fingers slipped into the cool water, needing something to stave off the flames that were slowly licking their way up from her belly to her breasts. “And why is that, pray tell?”
“Because in the morning I leave for my Grand Tour.” Genuine regret flashed in his gaze, and Helena was shocked to feel a similar tug in the middle of her chest.
She knew nothing about this gentleman, except for his name and his agenda for tomorrow. Hardly enough personal knowledge to wish he would stay in London instead of embarking on a journey halfway around the world. Yet that was precisely what she found herself doing.
“Where will your journey take you?” she asked, striving for nonchalance. As if the answer didn’t really matter. As if she couldn’t care less, even as she unconsciously leaned towards him so as to not miss a single word.
“I’ll begin in Belgium, then travel by coach to Luxembourg. Austria, Milan, the Alps in Switzerland. From there…” His broad shoulders lifted and fell in an absent shrug. “I haven’t decided.”
“That is quite the undertaking.”
“Indeed.” Lord Ware slid closer. Close enough for her to feel his warmth. Close enough to inhale his scent. Close enough to see his desire. “It is even more of an undertaking now that I know what sweet company I’ll be leaving behind in England.”
“You find me sweet?” She risked a coy glance at him from beneath a thick layer of russet lashes, and her lips parted when she discovered he was staring straight at her with the hunger of a man half-starved. Everything inside of her went still. But for her heart, which was beating so fast she feared it might burst through her ribcage.
“Indeed.” Stephen reached casually between them, and she trembled when he gently lifted her hand out of the fountain and ran his thumb across her wet knuckles. “Careful. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold from the water.”
“That – that’s largely a myth,” she gasped as he brought her slender wrist to his mouth.
“Is it?” he murmured against her flesh. “Do you know what else I thought a myth until this very moment?”
“N-no.” Helena was not a woman who stuttered. Or blushed. Or lost her heart to charming scoundrels with blue eyes. But as she stood poised before Stephen with her hand in his hand and her heart in her throat, she found herself guilty of all three.
“Love at first sight.” He turned her arm and kissed the inside of her wrist where her pulse fluttered fast as a butterfly’s wing.
She released a breathless laugh. “You – you cannot be serious. Lord Ware–”
“Stephen,” he interrupted. The corner of his mouth hitched in a roguish grin. “If you’re going to be my wife one day, the least you can do is call me by my Christian name.”
Helena felt as if she’d read the first page of a book, then suddenly flipped to the last. Lord Ware – Stephen – couldn’t possibly be serious. Except he was, she realized in shock when she met his gaze and saw the sincerity there. He was serious. He really did intend to marry her. And maybe it was madness brought on by moonlight, but she wanted to marry him as well.
“This is insane. I…you…I need to sit down,” she decided abruptly.
Still holding her hand, Stephen joined her on the edge of the fountain. “Is following your heart any more insane than ignoring it?”