“My dear, I’m completely besotted.”
His declaration didn’t please her. “This is stupid. I don’t know you.” She paused. “I’m not even sure I like you.”
“Another kiss might help you decide.” He linked his arms around her waist. “I’m really an excellent fellow.”
She regarded him from under lowered brows. “I have my father’s pistol.”
The masquerade had served its purpose, but the time for disguises passed. “That’s an odd item for a wee housemaid to have in her possession,” he said in a silky tone.
She was so lost in the sensual storm sparking between them, she needed a few seconds to realize what he meant. “My…my father is the gamekeeper here,” she stammered.
He grinned with evil satisfaction. “Even odder that he’s got time for that, between the estate, a string of racehorses, and his parliamentary work, Miss Warren.”
A beat of silence, while she stared appalled at him. Another.
“You know who I am.” She sounded like she accused him of murder.
Chapter Four
* * *
The smug brute had the gall to laugh. “Of course I know, you daft lassie. You make a very unlikely Cinderella.”
“I suppose you think I’d make a great ugly stepsister,” Charlotte said sourly, jerking free of his undemanding hold. A vile mixture of anger and humiliation curdled her stomach.
He laughed again. She was so close to snatching up the poker and clouting him. See how amusing he found that.
“I’d never say so,” he said, blue eyes alight. Even through blazing resentment, she couldn’t suppress a thrill at his male beauty.
She folded her arms over her bosom, trying to forget how only moments ago, his hands had been all over her. “Then the joke’s on you, for kissing such a fright.”
His humor faded to a smile of such sweetness that even wanting to smack him, she suffered a pang of painful longing. “Nobody would ever cast you as anything but a beauty, my dear Miss Warren. It was lack of humility, not lack of loveliness, that spoiled your performance.”
The compliment didn’t mollify, not when all afternoon, he’d led her on. Well, she knew how to wipe that grin off his handsome face. She adopted a saccharine tone. “And of course, you would know just how noble ladies behave, wouldn’t you, Mr. Smith?”
Wariness glinted in his eyes and he stepped back. “In the course of my employment, I’ve been to my share of society gatherings,” he said carefully.
Lying scoundrel. He wasn’t the only one who could see through an unconvincing disguise. Triumph surged. “Yes, I’m sure being the Earl of Lyle can be quite hard work, my lord.”
His astonishment went some way toward soothing her pique. “You wee besom, how did you find me out?”
“These might be the wilds of deepest Hampshire, but we do get the London papers. I’ve seen plenty of sketches of London’s darling.” She paused. “Even if I hadn’t, no daughter of John Warren would mistake Saraband for anything but a nobleman’s horse. I knew who you were the moment you knocked on my door.”
Charlotte waited for temper, but to her surprise, he burst into delighted laughter. “Caught red-handed. I should have guessed that the child of such a famous horseman would penetrate my disguise.”
“So you’re in no position to feel superior,” she said, striving desperately to maintain her resentment.
“No harm done,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her closer. Like a ninnyhammer, she obeyed his prompting as unthinkingly as a well-trained horse accepted the halter. “We’ve just been playing a wee game.”
He’d called this strange attraction magic. It must be. Five minutes ago, she’d wanted to do him physical harm. Yet his merest touch warmed her skin with pleasure.
“It seems so,” she said, still unable to summon the will to pull away. Magic indeed.
His lips quirked with that irresistible humor. “Of course, I cheated.”
“What do you mean?” Behind him, Bill shot them a disgusted look and flopped down again near the door. The dog could tell this discussion wasn’t over yet.
“There was no hiding your identity, my pretty Cinderella. Your father showed me your portrait when he suggested our marriage.”