Page 7 of Enslaved to the Seduction of a Lady
“Ach,” Luke said, waving it away, but Alison could see the sadness in his eyes. “It is nothing that can be helped. Let’s talk of more pleasant things.”
“If you’re sure,” Alison said. “But know that I am always here for you.”
“I know,” he said. “Do you remember?” he asked, still not looking at her, still busy with the task at hand. “That day? You were hiding in the stables, crying over your lost sister.”
“Yes,” she said, and suddenly all improper thoughts were blown away. Her voice became soft and far away as she thought of that time, of the day she had met him and the day she knew he would become a big part of her life. “I remember. How could I forget?”
“I brought you a daisy to make you smile.” He snorted at the memory. “You’d think I would be able to find something a little better than an ordinary daisy.” She grinned at him.
“You were just a boy yourself,” she said, “and I thought it the loveliest gesture in the world.”
“That’s me,” he said, winking again, “The loveliest boy in the world.”
“That is wishful thinking,” Alison said with a chuckle, all the while thinking that it was the truth.
“All right,” he admitted. “’T’was not as lovely as your smile. Ever since that day I have wanted to make you smile more.”
She chuckled and looked down at the floor, lost in memory but trapped in coyness.
“Yes, I remember,” she said, still not looking up at him. “I treasured that daisy for so long it rotted on my bedside table. Miss Jeyson, the governess, was furious at me although I still don’t know why. It was only a flower.”
“I always think of that day as the beginning of our friendship,” Luke said, almost wistful in his tone. “The day I met the amazing Lady Alison.” He said the last words as though he were on the stage, booming out her name in comic introduction. She tutted at him and slapped his arm playfully.
“I had not known there was so a kind and polite boy living on the estate,” she said. “I knew from that moment that you would become a good friend.”
“Only a friend?” he asked.
Only?
“Yes,” she said, smiling at him. “You know very well we are the best of friends. I consider myself very lucky.”
“Enough of that,” he said, tutting and laughing, and she laughed as well. That they were friends was evident enough, and she knew he didn’t like to think of his emotions in such a blatant way.
“All right,” she said, shrugging as she spoke. “In actual fact, you are a rotter and I wish we have never met.”
That made him laugh even more, a roar that set her off, too.
“That’s better,” he said, winking at her. “I wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea and considering me a good person or something ridiculous like that.”
That wink.
It sent a fire through her blood, a spark of excitement running through her. Although she liked to imagine he felt the same for her as she felt for him, she doubted he could. Their worlds were too far apart, and she felt certain he humored her in the same way he humored the others he had to deal with on a daily basis. She had nothing to offer him but trouble and strife.
He is merely doing his job.
Even if he did feel the same, she knew there would be no chance for them. Society’s boundaries were far too well-built for them to knock down, far too strict for them to ignore. And even if they could, Alison feared damaging their friendship too much to say anything to Luke. If she was wrong, could it be possible to maintain that?
No. It was better to enjoy what they had than ruin it by trying to make it something else.
She sighed and went to rub Bess’ neck. Of all the horses in the stable, the black mare was her favorite. She was fast as the wind and strong as an ox, and she was beautiful and friendly with it. Bess represented liberty and freedom to Alison, a way of forgetting—or escaping—everything she thought and felt.
“She’s a handsome creature,” Alison said, not taking her eyes from the horse.
“That she is,” Luke said, and she felt his eyes on her.
* * *
Luke gazed at Alison as she spoke and while he agreed that Bess was indeed a handsome creature, it was not the horse’s beauty that took his breath away. Alison, as always, drew his eye with her porcelain skin and her plump red lips. Her eyes, so deep he could dive into them, pulled him into them, and he found himself wanting to look at her—the shape of her face and her slender body, the way her cheeks moved when she smiled and her head fell back when she laughed. How he loved to make her laugh.
