Page 29 of When a Lady Kisses a Scot
Stanwyck shrugged. “Perhaps that was his motive. We viewed it more as a diversion than a harbinger of our fate.” With his free hand, he reached into his vest pocket and extracted a pair of spectacles. “Blasted nuisance, needing these bloody things.”
“All that reading you’ve done in your studies, I suppose.”
He gave a nod and settled the lenses in place. Dash it all, it hadn’t seemed possible, but somehow, the spectacles lent him an intellectual air that made him all the more handsome. Perhaps it was the way the silver frames softened the arrogance he wore like a top hat. Or was it the way tiny lines crinkled around his eyes as he studied her hand? She couldn’t quite explain why the lenses enhanced his appeal. But she couldn’t deny the effect on her, no more than she could deny the way she longed to sweep the unruly lock of hair that brushed his brow back into place.
“Now, let’s see what the future holds for you.” His tone had grown thoughtful. If she hadn’t known better, she might’ve believed him to be sincere. But she was not such a fool as to entertain that notion.
Taking her hand in his, he traced her lifeline with the index finger of his right hand. Awareness rippled through her, traveling to the tips of her fingers and toes.
He grinned what seemed a genuine smile. “If there’s any truth to this theory, I can well imagine you prancing about with your walking stick, driving your grandchildren to distraction as they attempt to keep up with you.”
His offhanded prediction triggered a yearning she couldn’t quite explain. “A long life…well, that’s something to look forward to, though I cannot envision myself as a grandmother.”
“Why is that, Miss Devereaux?”
An image of a chubby-cheeked whirling dervish flashed in her mind. Sophie’s tenure as a governess to a wealthy widow and her brood had been a time of happiness in her life, but chasing leads for a story had proven far more rewarding and ultimately less exhausting than reining in curious, boundlessly energetic children.
“I cannot imagine tying myself to hearth and home,” she said truthfully.
“With your lovely face, I imagine you must fend off many men who’d like to do just that.”
“Quite honestly, I have not faced that particular challenge.” She pulled in a breath, as if doing so would slow the elevated tempo of her pulse.
He seemed to consider her words, then cocked his head, as if adjusting his view of her. “Now that is a mystery of the highest order.”
“I’ve little taste for a life of gentle domesticity. Perhaps, someday. But not yet.”
“What is it you do seek out of life?” What appeared to be genuine interest colored his tone.
“I’d love to travel, just as you have,” she confessed. After all, what harm was there in revealing that rather bland truth?
“Is that a fact?” He made a show of looking at her hand. “Well, there it is. That line right there…” He touched his fingertip to a small crinkle near the center of her palm. “That clearly shows you possess a thirst to explore faraway lands.”
She bit back a smile, even as she subtly edged her hand away from his. “I suspect you’re teasing me.”
“Not at all,” he said. “Now, tell me where you’d like to venture.”
“That’s not a matter of importance. We should turn our focus back to your father.”
“The old man can wait. After all, it’s not as if he has any appointments to keep these days.” A hint of amusement lit his eyes. “Now, tell me the places you want to visit. I’d imagine Paris would be high on your list.”
“Of course, I would enjoy a visit to that beautiful city. But someday, I intend to experience something more exotic. Egypt holds particular appeal. I suppose you must find that answer rather convenient, given your explorations.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised. Egypt is all the rage these days, or so it seems.”
Something in his tone set her back, just a bit. He’d assumed her interest was shallow and transient, that she was simply following the crowd. Odd, how the dismissiveness in his tone stung.
“Actually, I’ve harbored a fascination for all things Egyptian since I was a young girl, not yet in the schoolroom. Recently, I attended Professor Alexandra Quinn’s lectures. She’s quite a riveting speaker. I’m told her skill in interpreting ancient languages is second to none.”
“Is that so?” He swatted the rebellious lock of hair from his brow. “How did you come to take an interest in Egypt?”
Peculiar, how comfortable she felt with him at that moment, as if they were old friends who’d met for an impromptu reunion. “My father journeyed to Cairo as a young man, before he met my mother. He was fascinated by the land and the culture. When I was a girl, he purchased a book for me,A Thousand Miles Up the Nile.He’d read passages from Amelia Edwards’s travelogue with me, infusing the descriptions with his own memories of Egypt.”
“The sights are indeed unforgettable.” He studied her, his expression unreadable, before glancing down at her hand. When he lifted his gaze, the warmth in his eyes had cooled. It seemed he’d lowered a shield over his countenance.
A flash of awareness shook her composure. “Is something wrong?” The words blurted out before she had the presence of mind to hold them back.
He gave his head a small shake. “Of course not. It does occur to me that one does not need to journey to another continent to take in intriguing sights. You’ve managed to pique my interest sitting right here in dreary England.”
