Page 34 of A Naughty Proposal for His Winter Countess
“No, no,” Harriet backtracked. “I’ll assume that you were taught them by witnessing others. My official question is, did you go to these brothels before your prospective bride left you?”
A surge of pain hit him squarely in the chest, “No.”
She rested her glass on the table, and pressed her lips a little tight in thought. Daniel knew that Harriet would take that answer to mean that he had started those excursions after the jilting woman had run off.
The silence began to stretch into an uncomfortableness that had Daniel breaking it, “What is your last question?”
Harriet’s mouth curved, “I’d like to hold that in reserve, if you don’t mind.”
Most of the tension that had come with expecting that next question, evaporated like rain on a hot roof, but there was still enough for him to ask, “Should I be nervous for when you do?”
Harriet’s smile was wide and sly, “You probably should.”
Shaking his head, Daniel said, “Very well then, I think we’re done for today. Shall I call your coach around?”
* * *
Later that evening, when Harriet was gone, Daniel considered going to a brothel to satiate the burn that had not left his chest since that kiss. He wondered what would have happened if he had not held fast to his vow not to use her for any carnal pleasure.
What if hehadkissed down her neck, leaving possessive marks it? How would it feel if he had peeled her layers off little by little and bared her to him? How would it feel to cup the teasing mounds of her breasts, to thumb his fingers over dark coral nipples, to venture down her body and feel her dew slick on his fingers and lips?
Bracing his hands on the edges of his table, Daniel sucked in breaths in a vain attempt to cool his body from the lust, nearly turning his vision red. Instead of going to bed, Daniel grabbed his coat and hat, then turned to the door.
Instead of going to a brothel, or heading to Harriet’s house for the ball, he found himself at Brook’s. The Gentleman’s Club was surprisingly full on New Year’s Eve. Then again, most of the Lords there were bachelors, gambling away without a care.
Daniel found himself at the card table, barely noting the elegantneoclassical-style interior, but focused instead, on the hand of whist. Perhaps if he took his mind of Harriet for a while, he might discover what about her was so arresting to him.
He and his partner were leading, with a point over the second team. The hand was dwindling to the last cards, and it landed on him to end the game. Idly, Daniel played his trump card, securing his and his partner winnings. The table was cleared, and the bets paid, but Daniel had little interest in the fifty pounds they were paid.
“Barkley?” his opponent, Baron Whitehall, asked. “Split in half?”
Daniel nodded, and soon pocketed his twenty-five pounds. He took it as it was going to his charity school well.
“If you pardon my boldness, you look at little distracted,” Whitehall said.
“I am,” Daniel said, “There is this lady—”
“Would this lady be Miss Harriet Bradford?” Whitehall asked. “It’s been bandied about that you two are engaged, Barkley, you know how meddlesome the ton is.”
Briefly irritated, Daniel said, “Yes, the very same. She’s an original, Whitehall, less concerned with what the ton says or taking every word in as Dame Littlefoot’s,Becoming the Lord’s Lady,submission and scrubbing pots included, as it was the second gospel of Christ.”
Whitehall laughed, “I cannot fathom what you’re here complaining about. To me, you’ve hit the prize, Barkley, better than that trump card you just paid. Do you know how many men would kill not to have some silly chit in their homes?”
“I know it’s just…” he faltered as he debated on telling his secret to the man, “our engagement is not the most conventional. It more like a marriage of convenience than a love match.”
Whitehall snorted, “Unconventional or not, you being here and worrying about the lady tells me that you’re not as detached as you think you are.”
Daniel only let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyes, “I’m beginning to think the same.”
“I’d think you have somewhere more important to be than here, with the cadre of bachelor lords, hm?” Whitehall said.
Standing, Daniel nodded, “You’re right, I do have somewhere more important to be.” Taking out his timepiece and noting the late hour, he added, “God, help me to get there on time.”
Chapter Eleven
He isn’t here.
Daniel had not come, and from the time passing, he was likely not going to put in an appearance. Harriet didn’t want to think of it, but she couldn’t help stop thinking of Daniel in the middle of a brothel, partaking of their services.
