Page 24 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
“Happier, I hope,” she said, still turning the pages.
“Very much so.” He angled around to face her, catching her attention so that she paused in her work. Those blue eyes found him with such intensity he could feel his heart thudding against his ribcage. “Every time I was brought to this room as a child, it was to be reprimanded and belittled. I stood there,” he pointedat a spot behind her, in front of the desk, “as he told me that I had a heart as soft as sponge cake. He called it weak and pathetic.”
She put down the papers in front of her, her lips parting.
“Your father was a cruel man.”
“Well, he was not kind.”
“Cruel! To have belittled his own son so just because he was different? There are many who would be proud to have a son with a kind heart. Believe me, my lord.”
“William,” he said once again, such humor in his tone now that she laughed. “If you wish for me to call you Becca, surely you can call me William.”
“You are a baron. I am just a writer. There is a difference,my lord.”She continued to giggle, turning her head down to the papers on her lap.
He returned to his chair but didn’t sit back completely. Instead, he perched on the very edge of his seat. From where they were, his leg was just an inch from hers. If he adjusted it a little, their legs would brush together. He felt a tension rising in his body, a longing for the briefest of touches, thinking then it would sate his wild desires.
A quiet fell between them as she worked, and he looked between her and the desk. Even as he told himself not to indulge in fantasies, that to do so was not only mad, but very ungentlemanly, it happened. He pictured him and Becca tangled together on that desk. He saw himself rising the skirt of her gown, exploring beneath, watching as she gripped the desk beneath her with pleasure. Would she moanWilliamthen?
“Have a look at this.” She passed him a paper, and it broke the spell, allowing him to focus on her. She seemed to have noticed his distraction, though, and looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“Distracted by something?”
“Do not ask.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t answer, just playfully glared at her before shifting his focus to the paper.
“You have me curious.” Her voice had deepened.
“It’s curiosity that will not be satisfied.”
“So cruel,” she murmured playfully.
“Ah, I’d never be cruel to you, Becca. I’d give you almost anything you asked of me, other than what I was thinking just a moment ago.”
“Oh.” She inhaled sharply, and he looked at her with that sound. A blush was mad across her cheeks.
“What is it?”
“I didn’t think you saying my name would have even more of an effect on me than before.” She looked around the room. “Perhaps we should have had a chaperone after all?”
“Would you feel more comfortable if you had one? Ask, and I shall find one this instant.” He longed for her to say no. He preferred it when the two of them were alone, but he would not be the man who made her uncomfortable. If she asked for a chaperone, he would ensure he found one.
“No.” She shook her head, indulging in a sort of mischievous smile. “In truth, I think we’d be disappointed if we did have someone watching us. We’d be putting on a performance, wouldn’t we? No…freedom.”
“If I had my liberty, I would do my liking,” he whispered, looking over the paper she had found. It was a detailed record his father had made about investors in some dodgy investment in theAmericas. Clearly, the investment had never come to fruition. He turned a page to find a list of the investors’ names and what they had given to the scheme.
“Shakespeare,” she whispered, matching his tone. They smiled at one another, their old jokes from the assembly returning. “You have your liberty now, my lord. Maybe there was a time in this house when you could not do as you wished to with your father hiding around every corner, but now, you can do anything you wish to.”
“I cannot.” He met her gaze, feeling the truth of the matter. “I cannot tell you every thought and feeling, Becca. As I said, you might not like it if I did.”
She didn’t seem to be afraid or sad, though. On the contrary, her cheeks were turning a lovely shade of pink, and she was leaning so far forward, she was in danger of falling out of her chair.
“Would you at least give me a hint?”
“You are mischievous,” he said with a sudden chuckle.
