Page 9 of Her Christmas Earl

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“I don’t know.” She paused, wondering if she was mad to pursue this. Then letting the devil inside her have its way, she pursued anyway. “I’d like grounds for comparison.”

“Would you indeed, my little sparrow?”

She almost welcomed the surge of annoyance at his patronizing response. “Please forget I mentioned it.”

She slid away from him. Not far enough. His big, strong hand closed around hers. She started as beguiling warmth flowed up her arm and through her body.

Oh, dear, she really was in trouble.

“I love that you look like a sparrow.” His Scottish accent was more pronounced.

“I don’t,” she said glumly, wishing that she was as beautiful as her sister. Then this handsome rogue wouldn’t hesitate to show her the kind of kisses that sent poets into raptures. “Sparrows are dull and as common as dirt.”

His grip tightened. “You should look more closely. Sparrows are quite beautiful.”

“Boring.”

“Subtle.”

Her pique faded. “You’re full of clever answers. I suppose it’s because you’re used to persuading reluctant ladies.”

“Are you so reluctant?” That velvety murmur was a seductive weapon.

A shiver rippled down her spine. To her surprise, it wasn’t fear, but irresistible physical awareness. “You always have a ready reply.”

“Not so ready. I’ve devoted three days of

thought to the issue of kissing you.”

She frowned into the darkness without trying to break his hold on her hand. “I’m an unremarkable woman from an undistinguished family. What interest can you have in me?”

“You underestimate yourself. If you made more effort to shine in company, I wouldn’t be the only man to notice that your hair is like mahogany silk and that your eyes are large and sparkling and express your every thought.”

Oh, no. She definitely didn’t need him reading her thoughts. “In that case, I’m glad that we’re in the dark and you can’t see my face.”

“I don’t need light to see you. I’ve observed you very closely indeed, my lovely shy bird. From the moment I first saw you.”

She tugged her hand free. “That can’t be true.”

“Of course it’s true.” She heard the smile in his voice. If she’d thought that musical baritone appealing before, now she was close to melting into a pool of honey.

“Prove it.”

She didn’t know why she pushed this. Did she really want to prove that he lied about seeing her? Something inside her blossomed at the idea that amongst the glittering throng at her uncle’s Christmas party, this experienced man had singled her out.

“Yesterday, you wore a green dress. Today you’re wearing a blue one. Whenever I’ve seen you, you’ve had a simple gold locket around your neck.”

Shock jammed her response in her throat. Still he sounded like he smiled. She wished he wouldn’t. She also wished she wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t try to recapture her hand.

“Shall I continue?” he asked gently.

“I feel…I feel a little overwhelmed.” She reached up to fiddle with the locket she’d inherited from her grandmother. “Perhaps it’s a rake’s habit to note the details when he meets a woman.”

He laughed softly. “You’re a suspicious chit.”

He sounded as though he genuinely appreciated her. Her brief enchantment faded. Surely he mocked her. Or used dalliance to fill the dull minutes while they were stuck here. She wriggled away, feeling depressed at being Lord Erskine’s stopgap.

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmured.


Tags: Anna Campbell Historical