Wicked Liaison - Meara Platt Page 0,281

Philip’s eye, and he looked up to see Selina and her companion walk up the gravel driveway toward the house, both carrying only the smallest of bags.

He spared a fleeting glance for the old woman before his attention was inevitably trapped by Selina. His mouth dried as lust slammed into him. His thoughts of forgetting all about her seeming laughable now as his eyes greedily raked her.

Her dark hair fell loosely down her back in a waterfall of rich browns and deep reds. And her bright violet skirts swirled about her feet as she walked, giving a tantalising glimpse of slender ankles.

Never before had he been so fascinated by a pair of ankles, yet here he stood like a damned green lad staring at them. Enthralled by them. And by her.

As though his thoughts had called out to her, Selina suddenly turned her head and looked straight at him.

Though from this distance, and with the autumn sun bouncing off the window pane, it wouldn’t be possible for her to see him standing there, he felt as though she did. And the small smile that hovered around that distractingly kissable mouth made him feel as though she knew exactly what he was thinking, too.

Philip shook his head and stepped back from the window.

He was being foolish. The woman couldn’t bloody well hear this thoughts. She wasn’t a witch. She didn’t possess any mind-reading powers.

He thought back to the previous night. When she’d helped Timmy. When she’d listened to his mad ramblings about seeing Charlotte. When she’d nodded as though she believed and even understood what he was saying.

She’s a wicked one, my lord.

Mrs. Leary’s dire warning rattled in his head.

Was Selina ‘wicked’? Or was she the only person who could help his family heal?

Only time would tell.

Chapter 9

“This is the room his lordship insisted you have.”

Selina bit back a smile at the housekeeper’s sour tone.

She could well imagine how much it galled the woman to have to treat a gypsy girl with anything other than contempt. Especially a gypsy girl who dared to be a guest of the lord of the manor.

“It’s right beside Master Timothy’s. And,” she continued with yet more frost in her tone, “only two doors down from his lordship’s. These are the family quarters.”

She glared at Selina as though she’d somehow tricked the earl into giving her a room in the family quarters.

In truth, Selina was just as shocked by the fact as the housekeeper clearly was. While she understood that Lord Breton wanted her near Timothy, she’d assumed that she’d be in the nursery in place of his nursemaid, who’d been reluctantly taking care of the lad.

And she had worried about where Agnes would stay, with that being the case. However, Agnes had been placed in a beautifully situated room beside this one and was even now happily unpacking and marvelling over the rose-coloured bedding and wall hangings. The concern she’d voiced about their staying here seemingly forgotten in the face of such a luxurious setting.

Given that the housekeeper didn’t seem inclined to actually enter the room, Selina squeezed by her and took in her surroundings.

This room was a cool, refreshing blue. It was light and airy even though the sky outside was a muddy grey.

A pleasant fire crackled in the hearth and the bed, the most comfortable looking Selina had ever seen, was draped in satin coverings the same colour as the walls.

It was so beautiful, so opulent, that Selina felt a little out of place.

“I assume you don’t expect one of my maids to assist you.”

Mrs. Leary’s voice sounded from the doorway, and Selina turned to face the obvious disdain coming from the woman.

“I don’t need anyone to assist me,” she answered evenly.

Suddenly, the housekeeper darted forward.

“The old master would be turning in his grave to know the likes of you were staying here. Fancying yourself fit to be the guest of an earl.”

If the woman’s vicious words weren’t enough to prove her hatred, the angry red flush and furious glare would have done the trick.

Selina merely raised her chin.

“I am not here as the guest of the old master. Nor am I here to answer to you.”

Her calm demeanour seemed to anger the housekeeper further, and she stepped closer to Selina, their faces now only inches apart.

“You think you can seduce him, is that it? Like you did to my boy? Only you won’t think yourself too good for an earl, will you?”

“I didn’t –“

“You’re no better than your mother, gypsy,” Mrs. Leary

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