Relieved, Martha fell back on the chaise, “Thank you, Antony.”
Nodding, the Baron turned to Harriet, “Miss Harriet, sadly, Miss Matthews has sent an apology, she cannot make it as the trip to Manchester has fatigued her.”
Harriet nodded as she stood, “Thank you for telling me, My Lord, and, Martha, please rest, and don’t worry about me.”
“I think I’ll take my leave as well,” Aunt Barbara said as she got to her feet and reached for her cane. The beige and purple of her lame gown fit her aunt beautifully; its high collar, amethyst brooch, and waist-length ropes of seed pearls around her neck showed her aunt’s adherence to an era before them.
“Dinner is ready,” the Baron said, “please, go to the dining room.”
As Harriet gingerly walked with her aunt down to the dining room, Aunt Barbara asked, “So, has any gentleman caught your eye?”
Thinking of Lord Barkley, Harriet said, “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Oh, perhaps I should rephrase,” Aunt Barbara said. “Has any Lord found you?”
Entering the dining room, Harriet’s eyes caught and held onto Lord Barkley. Even halfway across the room, his eyes seemed to burn, and she swallowed over a suddenly dry throat. Remembering the event of just a few hours before, she knew nothing would be normal between them.
Dear Lord, what have I gotten myself into with him?
Chapter Three
If Daniel could say he noted the taste of the soup or the veal's texture, he would be lying. All he could think about was the pert press of Miss Bradford’s bottom on his front, and the control he had forced himself to take not to press her against that wall and make erotic murmurs himself.
All through dinner, he could barely concentrate on his food; instead, he was thinking about what more he could do to dissuade the chit from making the worst mistake of her life.
I could just tell Ben—he would make sure she never thought that way again.
But then, he gave up on finding something that would punish her more than her naïve desire warranted. And because he knew Ben, he knew the straightlaced family would not see the gray area between the black and the white. They would only come down very hard on her.
Reaching for his wine, Daniel mused over the problem, while his gaze flitted to her and away a few times. Harriet was a curious woman, lingering in that stage between an immature girl and a responsible woman. He kept wondering why she was so set on being wicked, why she wanted to ruin her reputation before it was even created—but no answer came.
Harriet placed the fork at her lips, and to his eyes, slid the tines out tortuously slow. Daniel shifted in his seat, surprised at the feel of himself hardening. It felt ridiculous that an innocent woman could pry out more sensual feelings from him than a practiced courtesan could.
Thinking back to his time between boyhood and maturity, Daniel remembered his hard time navigating his journey between being chaste and then knowing women.
What if I teach her to flirt, how to fetter out rakehells who would only use her, and how to find good men?
She turned her head to the side, and the striking cut of her profile had Daniel nodding to himself, sure in his decision. But there was no way he could get away with it, without a probable reason.
When the dinner ended, and the party resumed on the dance floor, Daniel approached Harriet once more. Only, this time, she was sitting with an older lady that had a slight resemblance to her.
“Miss Bradford,” he bowed, “I hope your evening is going well.”
Harriet looked frightened, and her lips quivered before she spoke, “Lord Barkley, pleased to see you again. Aunt, this is Daniel Raster, Earl of Barkley. My Lord, my Aunt, Miss Barbara Johnson.”
Aunt Barbara fluttered her fan, “My word. Charmed to meet you, My Lord.”
“My pleasure as well,” Daniel replied. “If you don’t mind, may I borrow your niece for a dance?”
Harriet was about to refuse, but Aunt Harriet stepped in, batting her fan at Harriet. “Please, dance away.”
Extending his hand to her, Daniel waited out Harriet’s hesitation and took her to the dance floor. Ironically, their dance was another waltz, and Daniel held her close.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said as they began to dance. “I will not let you ruin herself with the worst scoundrel possible. I am prepared to burn that letter and not utter a word to Ben, if you’ll let me teach you how to flirt and read men. Men are simple creatures, Miss Bradford. If you know how to flirt, you can find out who is best for you.”
Harriet’s eyes were wide, then narrowed, “And if I don’t accept?”
“I’ll show the letter to Ben,” Daniel said shortly, “and I know you don’t want that.”
