Page 59 of A Naughty Proposal for His Winter Countess
Daniel looked away, and red flickered over his cheekbones, “I didn’t like the way Carrington looked at you.”
Thrown off balance, Harriet felt her shock turn to amusement. “Were you…jealous?”
He stood and paced to the window, embarrassment on his face. Bracing his palms on the sill, he stared out while Harriet stayed on the settee, looking at his rigid back. Could it be that his jealousy stemmed from actual care? Was the protectiveness stemming from the same urge to not have her dally with men like Dawson?
That must be it. Surely it had to come from that sense to save me from myself. It cannot stem from love—his heart has already been shattered and broken, there cannot be love—
Harriet knew she cared for Daniel more than he would ever do, but she did not allow herself even to consider him—a man she could never have and who could never fall in love with her. Slowly, she stood and went to him to rest a hand on his shoulder.
“You have nothing to worry about, Daniel,” she said. “His Lordship is married.”
Daniel’s snort was compelled derisive. “Desire and lust can overshadow, marriage vows, discipline or common sense…I know it happened to me,” he turned to her. “For my peace of mind, please don’t trust him.”
“I live in his house and depend on his generosity; of course, I have to trust him,” Harriet replied.
He turned and dropped his hand to her hips, “You know what I mean, Harriet; do not let him pass his place…” then, as Harriet began to nibble her lips and her eyes darted away, Daniel suspiciously asked, “or has he already?”
“There was one night, he was drunk…” she said, then swallowed tightly, “I believe, and he kissed my cheek, a tad longer than it should have been.”
Shock pained Daniel’s face white, and Harriet held him tight, “I know he didn’t mean it; he was drunk!”
His words were sharp, and his tone, cold. “I know when a man is on the hunt, Harriet, I didn’t like how he looked at you, and now you’ve told me that; what do you expect me to think?”
“That he is a faithful man who loves his wife and got drunk like every fallible man on the land,” Harriet said. “He didn’t touch me, Daniel; there was nothing untoward about it. The wine addled his mind.”
Still, he didn’t look comforted. Desperate to calm him, Harriet framed his face with both hands and gave him an appealing look, “Please, trust me. Nothing will happen between us, and on the chance that something will, I’ll run to you. I know this protectiveness comes from your wish not to see me ruin myself. I promise, after we break the engagement, you’ll not have to worry about him—I would never do that.”
Daniel wrenched himself from her, and braced his hands back on the window. After a long, tense moment, he stood again; this time, his gaze was more sedate, but his eyes still flashed with anger.
“You will come to me at any time, understood?” he ordered.
Pleased, Harriet braced her hands on his shoulder and tipped on her toes to kiss his cheek, “I do…now, can we prepare for the ball?”
Chapter Nineteen
Daniel felt trapped; he didn’t want to share Carrington’s company, as he was tempted to call the man out—or strangle him—and Harriet had disappeared to her room to prepare for the ball.
He had taken refuge in the library, staring blankly at the page. His stomach was still churning with anger, at the Baron’s impudence. Harriet might be naïve not to see that the man wasn’t to be trusted, but then again, maybe he was seeing things through the wrong lens.
Lovely Harriet had not been out in society for long, had no scandals in her past, but had decided to be wicked and deviant. Outside of Dawson, who he knew was a Lothario, he now had to add Carrington to his list. And she was in his house, which was more convenient above all else.
While he gazed at the page, Harriet’s russet hair and enchanting green eyes set his impulses pulsing, and he grew uncomfortable with the feeling. Thinking of her with another man, made him feel physically ill.
Despite his desire to remain detached and practical minded—as their deal was a business one—Daniel felt that he was becoming more and more inclined to change that arrangement.
When she was near him, his breath changed, his gut tightened, and his blood pumped with dangerous heat through his body. The flicker of her smile soothed his hurt soul, and the glimmer of life and humor in her eyes flickered the same emotion inside himself as well. When she touched him, all he could think of was to kiss her, hold her and hide her away from the world.
The realization hit like a vicious punch to the stomach…was he in danger of falling in love?
“If you stare at that book any harder, it will combust in your lap,” Benjamin jested. “Why are you scowling so?”
Closing the book, Daniel said, “Masquerade balls irk me somewhat.”
“I’d believe that if I didn’t know who you are and how you preferanonymityover everything else.” Ben took the seat across him and looked at him pensively. “Tell me something I willattemptto believe.”
Closing his book, Daniel read the title emblazoned in the leather with dry humor—Tristan and Iseult; a romance doomed to end in tragedy.
Staring at the title, Daniel replied, “Your very concerned brother-in-law tried to warn me about Harriet. Asked me if I was prepared for her unorthodox ways.”
