Page 24 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
Why was he here? Did he hope to soften her so she’d agree to an arrangement between them? Why did he have to charm her impressionable students with his attentive questions and witty comments? Why did he have to flash his heart-stopping grin that threatened to make her resolute mask dissolve like a sandcastle in the surf?
She was supposed to be leading a lesson, and yet she hung on his every word; she was as charmed as any one of her students. Shouldn’t he be at a fancy club or luncheon? Shouldn’t he be sleeping off his excesses from the night before?
Yet, Finlay played the role of the proper, if rascally, viscount to perfection. And from the way he sat on the edge of his chair, she suspected he was enjoying himself.
Damn him.
“And how would you spend your day, my lord?” Fanny asked, her pretty face gazing adoringly at him.
He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand along his jaw. His casual elegance made Charlotte grit her teeth for she felt anything but casual.
“I….” He frowned, his angelic visage crinkling in confusion. “I don’t know.”
“That’s not fair, my lord.” Charlotte took a sip of tea, delighting in needling him. “You’ve had plenty of time to consider.”
“Not quite,” he argued, his sinful lips curling. “I was so engrossed in all of your answers, imagining the sights and activities you described, I never had an opportunity to consider my own day.”
“Well, if you aren’t quick on your feet, and require a few minutes”—Charlotte shrugged, unable to contain her smile—“I’m sure the ladies don’t mind serving themselves another cup of tea and a biscuit while we wait.”
She watched in satisfaction as his mouth compressed into a tight line. “I’m sure that’s not necessary.”
“Are you sure, my lord?” She arched a dramatic brow. “I assure you the ladies and I are not opposed to allowing the lone man at the table the extra time he needs to consider his answer.”
Oh, she knew she was baiting him, but the way he clenched his jaw and dropped his cup into his saucer with atingmade it all worth it. Charlotte suspected very few people pressured him as she did. But it was obvious he needed to know that not every woman would swoon and bat her eyes at him. Not every woman would offer him concessions. The thought she could bethatwoman had her fighting a smile.
He jerked on his cuffs so hard she was surprised he didn’t snap off a button. “I thank you, Mrs. Taylor, for your offer, but I think I’m ready.” He picked up his napkin and patted his mouth. “I’d spend the day with my sister.”
A silent pause ensued. The girls kept their gazes locked on him, waiting for more. When he picked up his cup again and took a lazy sip, they cast their looks to her.
She cocked her head. “Was there more, my lord?”
“No.” He set his cup and saucer on the table. “I have not seen my sister in almost a year. And before she left for the West Indies, she had been in Scotland for the three years prior. My perfect day would involve whatever she wanted to do. As long as I could be with her, even if it meant an evening at Almack’s, I would be there.”
A fire built behind her eyes. Why did he have to say such things? She contemplated how her relationship with Roderick had been built on love and respect, so bedsport had never just been bedsport between them. It had been a deeply intimate act that reflected the devoted nature of their marriage. She’d been able to explain away the twinges of guilt she felt about her passionate night with Finlay by telling herself he was merely a frivolous, spoiled gentleman who’d entertained her for a night. But when he showed compassion to her young, impressionable charges, when he spoke of missing his sister, and when he focused those piercing green eyes on her as if he were interested in every word that dropped from her mouth, well, Charlotte was dumbstruck.
With a thundering, panicked heart, she realized she had no defense for him. She sucked a gulp of air as she scrambled to respond, when creaking floorboards in the hall drew her attention.
Jerking to her feet, she spread her hands, hoping they did not tremble. “It appears our lesson for today is at an end. Ladies, please extend your gratitude to our esteemed guest for joining us.”
Her students offered smiling thanks and executed a curtsy one by one as they filtered out the door. When the room was empty, Finlay turned to her with a questioning gaze.
She straightened her spine, intending to thank him before escaping to the kitchens. Instead, she said, “What on Earth do you think you’re doing?”
ChapterNine
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
Charlotte released a beleaguered sigh before she could suppress it. That Finlay claimed not to know of what she was referring to exhausted her…and she abruptly wanted to scream.
Or throttle him.
“Of course—” She paused, actually biting down on her tongue until she was sure it bled. She had never been provoked to such fiery anger before. Her temper had always been an oak in a storm, facing down the lightning and winds of life with quiet stoicism.
So why now did she want to harangue Lord Firthwell like a fishmonger’s wife?
Swallowing convulsively, Charlotte threw back her shoulders and gathered the remnants of her self-control. “Why did you come today, my lord?”
He tilted his head to the side. “To see you, of course.”
