Page 80 of Lessons for Marquesses
She summoned her courage and approached the door.
Georgiana St. Clair wanted him. She likely didn’t understand that she did, and Nicholas wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but here she was, standing at the door like having reached the center of a battle. She, who rode horses without breaking a sweat, pitched hay, and climbed the stable wall to hammer a nail into an errant piece of wood, was out of breath.
This woman who clung to her mount with one leg, one hand to a mane to rip off a blossom for amusement, wanted to rip something now. His clothes? No, she hadn’t come that far in her desires. She was caught between a female yearning for theunknown and a male without the innate lust, without a cock to guide a young man to do what he’d never done.
Her ferocious gaze speared him, darted to his bedroom door, and back to him. Her pupils widened, her eyes nearly black. That was what she wanted. She wanted to rip Lady Sybil to shreds.
He beckoned her in with a nod.
Her voice shook. “I should stay here.”
Nicholas crossed his stockinged ankles on the settle, a motion she followed. “Then stay there.”
She skid a palm, obviously damp, on her midnight-blue coat. She had placed another pin in the bunch of lace at her chin. The blue stone burned in the firelight. How long would she stand there before engaging him? He felt sorry for her. He certainly wanted her.
“You wished to speak to me?” he asked to coax her along.
She studied his hand holdingThe Odyssey. “I don’t remember what it was that seemed so urgent.”
“Was it about Greville?” Nicholas had retrieved a local surgeon to stitch the man’s wound.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“The ball?” She paled but shook her head. “Your cousin, Caroline?”
She grimaced, glancing anxiously over her shoulder before taking a step into the salon. “Do you like this room?”
“I do.”
She nodded. “I promised Aunt Charlotte I wouldn’t come inside while you were here.”
“Why did you?”
Without hesitation, she admitted, “I wanted to see you in it. I think Farendon agrees with you. Do you find it appealing?”
“Are you going to offer to sell it to me, too?”
Her chin drew back into the frothy lace. “No, it’s just that I love it and Farendon seems to suit you so well. You seem at ease,and the longer you are here, the less I hear you. That is, you appear happier as the days progress. It’s as if you belong here. Like I do.”
Nicholas slowly turned to plant his feet to the carpet. “George, are you proposing to me?”
She choked on her reply.
“If I were to propose to me, I might say the same thing. No need for love. Land is the heart of a man’s desires. Perhaps, you should take a knee, to make it official.”
Her faculties of speech not regained, she squeaked. Finally, her words blew out like a gale. “You? Marry me? That would be more outrageous than a man marrying his horse!”
“You believe a man would never marry you?”
“No!”
Stretching up to his height, Nicholas made a slow path to her. He shouldn’t, but a splayed hand at the small of her back, he nudged her forward into the salon and shut the door to her room.
He leaned in, so close he could smell the sherry on her lips and see the striations of midnight and turquoise in her eyes. “George, that was a jest.”
Her breath shuddered between her teeth. “You’re not laughing.”
“It’s bad form to laugh at one’s own jests.”
