Especially between her legs. The throbbing was making it difficult to walk properly.
Dorothy gritted her teeth and concentrated on walking. She didn’t like how everything about her was reacting to Dashwood. Surely, she should be finding him repulsive? If he were unattractive, then it would have been easier. And he wasn’t.
It was probably because he was paying her compliments. Dorothy had no experience with men at all. Nothing. Just a few minutes in the company of a good-looking man was making her feel like everything was being turned inside-out. It was strange, and Dorothy wasn’t sure how she felt about the sensations.
Dashwood probably knew she was inexperienced. After all, why else would her parents be trying to arrange a match for her? And he was taking advantage of it now he considered her pretty. He was the type of person she needed to avoid.
And yet, deep down, she knew she wouldn’t be able to manage that.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Dorothy managed to find the drawing room. Everyone was busy with whatever they were doing, and nobody paid her any attention as she scurried in, holding onto a book that, she just realised, was practically covering her from neck to waist. God, why did she not notice how big the book was before she went after it?
Because you wanted to get away from Dashwood, and you didn’t want to look like a fool asking him to put it back while you went for another, smaller book.
Frederica was sitting in a little nook near the window. Lady Marcia was sitting across from her, leaning forward as she spoke with great animation. Frederica was looking interested, nodding along as the other woman kept talking, but Dorothy saw the faraway look in her eyes. Her friend needed some rescuing.
“Is this chair free?” she asked, indicating the chair next to Frederica.
Lady Marcia stopped, blinking at her as if she didn’t expect to be interrupted. Frederica gave Dorothy a relieved smile and patted the cushions.
“Of course. Where on earth did you go? And I heard a scream earlier, but my aunt said it was nothing.”
“Oh, that.” Dorothy sat down, placing the book on her lap. “I’ll tell you later.”
Lady Marcia burst out laughing.
“What on earth is that? You look like you’ve been carrying a stone slab around.”
“It’s about art,” Dorothy mumbled. “I like art.”
“Oh, darling, that’s not going to get you a husband. You need to be interested in what they like, not what you like.”
Dorothy didn’t know what to say to that. What she really wanted to say was that she wasn’t about to take advice from someone like Lady Marcia, but that would have ended up in a verbal altercation that would draw attention to them. While she didn’t know the other woman, Dorothy had a gut feeling that Lady Marcia wasn’t a very nice person.
Swiftly, she changed the subject, focusing on Frederica.
“What were you talking about? It looked very interesting.”
“Probably less interesting than your book,” Frederica teased, prodding Dorothy in the side. “That looks more consuming than what we were discussing.”
Lady Marcia snorted.
“I highly doubt it. Honestly, who wants to talk about art?”
Dorothy glanced at Frederica, but her friend gave her a subtle shake of her head. This was not the time for a squabble. Dorothy was beginning to regret sitting here.
“So … what were you talking about?”
“Lucas Dashwood.” Lady Marcia looked smug. “I have all the gossip on him, and it’s too juicy to keep to myself.”
“She means that she’s heard a lot of rumours about Lord Dashwood, and she’s spreading it around for her own unknown reasons,” Frederica translated, which had Dorothy giggling.
Normally, she would have ignored Lady Marcia to concentrate on her friend and her book, but with Dashwood’s name being mentioned, her curiosity had been aroused. Maybe she should know about Dashwood, even if they were rumours. After all, she needed something to hate him and have a reason to keep her distance.
“What are these rumours, then?” she asked Lady Marcia. “And how do you know they’re real? Rumours have been made out of something completely innocent before.”
“Oh, I know these are real.” The other woman’s eyes were glinting. “After all, we’ve known each other for a while.”
“You have?”