The bedroom door flew open. It was not one of the younger new students but rather Ruth Lockhart.
“I’m so glad I found you!” Ruth said out of breath, her bright red curls flouncing as she closed the door behind her. “A gentleman is here, and he wishes to see you!”
“I?” Jenny asked, stunned. “But that is impossible. Who would be calling on me?”
“He says his name is Lord Dowding.” Ruth glanced around them and lowered her voice. “It’s the same Lord Dowding who murdered his father!”
Louisa’s eyes flew open wide. “I heard he murdered his wife.” She frowned. “Or was it his mistress? I cannot recall exactly, but what does it matter who he murdered?” She spun about to face Jenny, her eyes wide with fright. “He’s the very man who returned the handkerchief you threw over your shoulder when you were in the village last month. What will you do?”
Jenny’s heart was pounding so hard that she was sure it would burst from her chest. And a lump had formed in her throat. How many nights had thoughts of that imposing figure, that perfect jawline, and that broad chest kept her awake? Never had any encounter with a gentleman sent flutters into her stomach like they did since meeting Lord Dowding.
The man about whom she had been thinking not even an hour earlier. The very man who now awaited her in the drawing room!
To see her!
“You cannot go speak to him!” Louisa insisted, her face as white as the lace on her dress. “He’s far too dangerous.”
Indeed, what should she do? Her friends clearly did not approve. And common sense said to ignore his call and have Ruth or Louisa send him on his way.
But how could she deny herself? Perhaps a quick conversation and another look at his handsome face would suffice. Then she could send him on his way.
After all, a lady did not deny an audience with a man crafted by the gods themselves. One look, perhaps a smile, would be enough to satisfy Jenny.
She wasalmostsure of it.
Chapter Three
One look, a quick conversation, and then Jenny would dismiss him. At least, that was what she reminded herself as she entered the drawing room. The earl stood staring out the window, and Jenny paused to take in his handsome form.
And all rational thought floated away like a feather on the wind.
Lord Dowding was exactly as she remembered him—imposingly tall and broad in the back with an air of self-assurance. He certainly had an alluring aura about him. His breeches were rather tight. So much so that her cheeks heated at the thought of what his backside might look like beneath that beige fabric.
When he lifted his arm to run his hand through his hair, the fabric on the sleeve of his coat tightened. Jenny’s eyes widened. Now she understood the meaning of temptation, for she wanted nothing more than to learn how firm those muscles truly were.
Just one touch would do no harm, would it?
Jenny shook such thoughts from her mind. What was wrong with her? Had she not reformed?
“Good afternoon, my lord,” she said, dropping into a deep curtsy, Louisa following suit beside her.
The earl turned to face her, smiled, and bowed. “Miss Clifton, thank you for seeing me. I do hope my unexpected call has not taken you away from anything important.”
Jenny shook her head. “It has not, my lord. Please, have a seat. May I offer you something to drink? I can have a tea tray brought up if you would like.” She led Louisa to the sofa, where they both sat.
Lord Dowding waved a dismissive hand. “That won’t be necessary, Miss Clifton.” He took one of the chairs across from them.
Puzzled, Jenny asked, “Then how may I help you?” Her heart was pounding so hard that she could hear it in her ears. Oh, but he was handsome!
Crossing an ankle over the opposite knee, the earl said, “Do you remember your offer of a favor when we happened upon one another last month?”
“I do,” Jenny said. She had to clench her hands in her lap to keep them from tugging at her braid. It was not an easy task.
“I apologize for not sending a card beforehand, but the decision to come here was on impulse, for a no better choice of words. You see, I’ve been unable to get you out of my thoughts.”
Jenny’s cheeks could have warmed Mrs. Shepherd’s cookstove. “I see.”
How else did one respond to such brutal honesty? A man could be so forthright, but a young lady had to be much more restrained. No matter how much she wanted to speak her mind, she could not express to him how handsome she believed him to be.