Page 36 of The Lady’s Guide to Deception and Desire
It was quite small, and pale green, and thankfully not moving; dead, at a guess.
“Leave it!” Rosamund dragged the dog away, banging her head on the underside of the altar in the process.
“Are you alright?” Mr. Studborne’s face appeared in view.
“Fine but…here, take him.” She passed Pom Pom out.
“What was he after?”
“A snake!” Rosamund prodded its tail. “I didn’t even think you had them in England.”
“It’s likely a grass snake. Might have slunk in here to lay eggs, or it might just be sleeping.”
Rosamund snatched back her hand. Keeping well away from the snake, she peered into the darkness. “There’s a metal gate at the back here, did you know?”
She couldn’t see much, but she’d swear there were steps leading downward on the other side and a slight draught blowing through, carrying with it the smell of musty air. On her bottom, she shuffled a tiny bit closer. Definitely steps.
A wisp of something brushed her ear and she batted it away. A thread of hair—quite long, caught on the bolt securing the gate—but not hers, which was a much paler blonde; this looked a middling-brown.
“I can’t say I know anything about it,” came Mr. Studborne’s voice. “Might lead into an old ice house. Would be an ingenious place for it. I wouldn’t go poking about though. It’ll just be an empty room. Nothing of interest.”
That was good enough for Rosamund.
Crawling out, she brushed the dust off her hands.
Mr. Studborne was looking at her most oddly—half-amused and half-disbelieving.
Getting down on the floor wasn’t exactly ladylike, she knew, but she was used to doing so where Pom Pom was concerned.
The puppy, cradled in the young man’s arms, was licking his ear like it was sugar-candy-coated, while Mr. Studborne stroked the thick fur about Pom Pom’s neck.
It made a fetching picture.
“You’ve got a—”
“You can—”
They both spoke at the same time.
He plucked something from her hair. “Just a cobweb.” He wiped it on his trousers.
He was standing very close but Rosamund had a sudden urge to stand closer still.
The way he was holding Pom Pom…how would it feel to have him touch her like that?
To have his arms about her?
To rest her cheek upon his chest or, even…to tip back her head and let his lips brush hers?
She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eye but she took a step forward.
Simultaneously, so did he.
That was when the top of her head collided with his jaw.
“Ow!” Rosamund rubbed her crown.
“Dear God!” He clutched at his mouth.
