Page 31 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
“I was nervous in that room, and I don’t want to be. I wish to feel at ease around others, perfectly so. I wish for a family of my own someday, too, a family that I will treat far better than my father treated his own. I will be as good as gold to those I love, as my mother was with me,” he said rather wistfully, staring into the fire that was burning beyond Becca’s shoulder.
She looked at the open doorway, wishing once again that she had closed it on their way in, though to do so would certainly arouse the suspicion of the staff.
To be the woman he loved, what would that be like? Would he kiss her all the time as he kissed me yesterday? Would he stare at her as he does me?
If the door was closed, she might have been bold enough to crawl toward him, to reach up to him in that chair and discover what another of those kisses could be like. She had not stopped thinking about it, and every time she relived it in her mind’s eye, she thought of the way his hand had held her back, the fingers splayed. It was a subtle promise of what more touches there could be.
“How about you?” he asked. “What do you wish for in life?”
“Me?”
“So many of our conversations revolve around me. They cannot all be this way, especially when I’d rather hear about you.”
“I’m writing about you. There is a difference,” she reminded him.
“Indulge me,” he said, his tone so deep that an excited quiver passed up her spine.
“As you wish.” She sat straight on the rug, thinking about her answer. “I wish to be happy in life. That is all.”
“And what makes you happy?”
“Many things. My work, for one thing, and having the freedom to do it without condescension. My friends, such as Charlotte, at the print house. My father, too.”
“What does he make of your writing?”
“He’s proud,” she said with a smile. “I do not imagine every father in London would be, but he’s different. He is a good man.”
“You make me feel a little envious,” William confessed quietly. “Is that all you want in life? Your father, your friends, and your work?”
“A family,” she whispered. It felt brave to say these words, requiring more courage than she had needed, even when she had kissed him. “But I know a woman in my position sometimes must choose between marriage and having a career. Many men would not marry me if they knew what I did.” She looked downat the papers in her lap, a sudden fear taking hold of her with the words.
“Any man worthy of your hand in marriage would be proud of you.” William’s sudden, passionate tone made her look up again. There was a genuineness in his expression that she couldn’t look away from, startled at the power in his chestnut eyes. “Believe me, Becca. Pick a worthier man than that.”
She nodded. She longed to point out that what they both wished for in life wasn’t very dissimilar, but how could she? One kiss did not break down all the barriers there were between them. Nothing could erase the fact that he was a baron and would certainly never deign to consider a writer for his wife, even if he was attracted enough to kiss her.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “You, too, should find a woman that puts you at your ease in conversation. Not a lady who you feel you have to perform for or fumble with what to say. Someone with whom talking comes as naturally as breathing.”
“If only.” He shook himself. “You should see what happens to me at assemblies. I get tongue-tied and flush bright red.”
“You didn’t with me.”
“That is because you are different.” The strength of his words made that excited quiver pass up her spine again.
“Perhaps you just need practice. Come, I have an idea.” She stood, abandoning the papers, quite forgetting that she was only in his house to work for him.
“What idea?”
“Trust me,” she said, winking at him as she crossed the room. Apparently, something in that look must have persuaded him, for he stood and followed her.
She stopped in a clearing in the room, turning to face him.
“Now, imagine I am a lady of theton,” she said, smiling a little. “You’ll have to picture the ostentatious feathers in my hair, as if I am some cockatoo, and imagine I keep fluttering a fan in front of my face, even though we both know I am fluttering it to draw your attention to something besides my face.”
“Ha! You observed thetonvery well at the assembly.”
“Perhaps a little,” she said, warmed by the fact she could make him laugh. “Now, I’ll adopt a finer accent, too.” She cleared her throat, making her accent that little more refined. “Lord Lancaster.” She curtsied deeply. “How pleasant it is to see you again.”
“Are you mimicking Lady Heather?”
