Page 65 of From Rakes to Riches

“Pointy? Your hands are torn to bits, Helena. It looks as if you’ve been mauled by all six of Circe’s kittens.”

Her jaw dropped. “Circe’s kittens! You mean to say youknowabout them?”

“Do I know about Hestia, Poseidon, Artemis, Apollo, Demeter and Hephaestus? Of course, I do. Even the wily Miss Templeton can’t keep six kittens hidden. I kept seeing furry little tails darting around corners, so I asked the boys. They told me all about Circe, and gave me the kittens’ names. Demeter and Artemis have been sleeping on a settee in my bedchamber for days.”

She gaped up at him, her mouth wide open.Again. “But you despise cats!”

“I do. They’re arrogant, hissing, self-satisfied little beasts.” He turned her hand over to inspect her palms. They weren’t quite as bad as the backs, but they were covered with scratches and punctures as well, and her fingers were a mess of slivers and smeared blood. “For God’s sake, Lady Codswaddle expects you to make anothersixtykissing balls? There will be nothing left of your hands but bloody stumps!”

“Thank you for that colorful description, my lord.”

“That woman is an outrageous tyrant, and she’s set you an impossible task. Tell her she can make do with the kissing balls she has, and be done with it.”

“Oh, no. I can’t do that, my lord.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can’t think of a single reason why not.”

“Because I’m on the decorations committee, and Lady Codswaddle is the head of it, and because I said I’d do the kissing balls.”

“Twenty-four of them, yes. Not ninety-six. Lady Codswaddle has changed the rules.”

“Yes, but I said I’d do it. I can’t go back on my word now.” No matter if she did end up with bloody stumps where her hands used to be.

“Even if your fingers fall off in the process?”

“I daresay it won’t come to loss of limb, my lord. It’s not as bad as that.”

“Bad enough.” He sighed and released her hand—which he’d been somehow inexplicably still holding—and turned to rummage through the cabinets behind him. “Mrs. Norris makes a peppermint salve for cuts. It’s here somewhere, and the bandages?—”

“There in the next cabinet to the right, on the top shelf.”

“Here it is.” He set the salve and bandages down on the table and reached for her. “Give me your hand.”

She did as he bid her, the light stroke of his fingertips against her palm sending a shiver up her spine. He doused a bit of cotton cloth with the salve and began dabbing it on her cuts, his touch gentle, talking as he worked. “Can the boys be trusted to help you with the kissing balls?”

“Certainly, for short periods at a time, until they lose interest. Little boys aren’t enraptured with kissing balls, Lord Hawke.”

“No. Not until they become big boys.”

She laughed, and he looked up quickly, a return grin rising to his lips. “What of Abby and Mrs. Norris? Can they help?”

“I don’t like to ask. They’ll be overwhelmed with their own tasks for the fete.”

He bandaged the worst of the cuts on her fingers, then reached for her other hand. “I daresay we can find a few girls in the village who’d like to earn some extra guineas making kissing balls.”

She glanced up at him, surprised. “That’s kind of you, my lord.”

“Yes, well, I wouldn’t get used to it, Miss Templeton. I’m certain to be back to snarling soon enough.”

“I’ll consider myself properly forewarned.” She flexed her hands, admiring his handiwork. “Your bandages are very tidy. You’re quite good at treating wounds.”

“Ryan and Etienne are forever scraping themselves bloody. Over time I became handy with the salve, although…” he paused, his smile dimming. “I’m a bit out of practice now.”

There was no mistaking the hint of guilt in his voice, and goodness, she was weepy today, because before she knew it, tears threatened again. Impulsively, she reached out and took his hand. “Not so out of practice, my lord.”

Perhaps he heard the hitch in her voice, because he looked up, and his gaze caught hers. It roamed over her face, and the expression in those dark green depths…well, she couldn’t quite read it, but it made heat flood her cheeks, and all at once she was trembling, and she didn’t know why, except that he was closer than he had been a moment before, much closer, his eyes flicking back and forth between her eyes and her lips, and she was meant to do something, wasn’t she? Something…but she didn’t know what.

Confused, she dropped her gaze, but he wouldn’t allow that. He touched two long fingers to her chin and turned her face back up to his. “No, perhaps not so out of practice, after all,” he murmured, his voice husky.

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