Page 24 of The Scholar's Key
Noah no longer had any wish to do this. Everything within him was telling him to turn around and walk right out that parlor door. He knew how terrible he was at speaking to women. He didn’t need Percy to realize it as well.
But he had made a promise. To Ashford, to Ashford’s sister, and, most importantly, to Percy.
“Pretend I am her,” Percy said, placing a hand on her hip, and he wanted to tell her that she could never be Mrs. MacNall, that she would always be perfectly Percy.
But he couldn’t actually say that to her for she would read far too much into it.
“Good evening,” he said instead. “It is good to see you.”
She tilted her head and studied him. “That’s fine,” she said, “but that is not flirting. That is greeting my mother at a society event.”
“I am doing my best,” he said, trying not to show his impatience.
“Try this,” she said. “Say the same thing, but with more emphasis on howgoodit is to see me. Lean in toward me. Then say it. Show me your interest. Run your hand down my arm. A little touch can go a long way.”
“Very well,” he said. “From the beginning?”
“Yes.”
He stepped back and then forward again.
“Good evening,” he repeated himself, but this time, he lifted his hand, settling in on Percy’s arm, just above her elbow. He felt ridiculous, but she didn’t seem upset at all.
He lowered his voice. “It is so good to see you.” He ran his hand lightly down her arm, allowing it to fall just when his fingers brushed against hers. He kept his eyes locked on hers, knowing that he would never be able to do this with another – only with her.
“I am so happy you are here,” she said, and he wondered if he caught a bit of breathlessness in her voice. “Did you come for me?”
“Yes.”
She raised a brow.
“I came for enjoyment,” he said. “For pleasure. So yes.”
He watched her pupils dilate, headiness overwhelming him that he was causing a reaction within her. Perhaps he wasn’t so bad at this after all.
“I-I see,” she said, and Noah was strangely proud that he had caused her to become so disconcerted. “Is this your first time here?”
“It is,” he said with a smile that was now easier to infuse with confidence. He wasn’t sure if that was due to the brandy or her reaction. “You must be special, for I came here for you.”
He leaned in again, placing his hand on the wall behind her, a stance that should have been unnatural to him but seemed to come easier with Percy before him. He was close enough that he could see the tiny freckles that dotted her nose, and he had to resist the strange urge to reach out and trace them.
“What particular interest do you have with me?” she asked, nearly breathless now.
“I was thinking,” he murmured in a low voice, “that perhaps we could go somewhere more private. More comfortable.”
A throat cleared from across the room, and Percy jumped, apparently having forgotten as much as Noah had that her maid was present. Which of course she was. Percy was a young woman with a reputation to uphold.
He stepped backward, returning his hand to himself.
“So?” he said, adjusting his spectacles, trying to compose himself. “Do you think that will do?”
“I believe it will, yes,” she said, nodding furiously, for once, it seemed, at something of a loss for words. “Then you will go from the club to Mrs. MacNall’s home and try to find the jewellery?”
“I suppose,” he said. “Unless she is wearing them. That would be ideal.”
“Likely not at such a place,” Percy said rather forlornly. “Then—”
“Persephone?”
