Page 13 of To Pleasure a Prince
A sweat broke over his brow, making him curse. He could handle this damned attraction. Hecould.He just had to keep his mind focused on his goal. Besides, even if he wanted to turn his life upside down for the haughty chit—and he didn’t—it wouldn’t suit his purpose. The more he offended Lady Lofty’s sensibilities, the sooner she would beg her brother to end his association with Louisa.
That couldn’t be too soon for Marcus.
Chapter Three
Your duty is to your employer, not to your charge, for if she falls, they will blameyou, not her.
—Miss Cicely Tremaine,The Ideal Chaperone
“Are you all right?” Cicely asked Regina as they settled back into the carriage. “You look flushed.”
“I’m fine,” Regina lied. Who wouldn’t look flushed after half an hour of the Dragon Viscount’s scorching insinuations and fiery glances? It was no wonder the brazen scoundrel had no friends.
Cicely looked unconvinced. “He didn’t shout at you? Or…or touch you?”
Regina stared out the window, trying not to remember his powerful arm around her waist, holding her suspended in space. “We had a perfectly reasonable conversation. Heisa gentleman, you know.” With a hard head, a million thorny prejudices…
And a clever mind, drat him. She should never have agreed to his bargain. Let the Dragon Viscount—a man as unpredictable as a typhoon—court her? She must be daft.
But what else could she do after all the nasty and ridiculous claims he’d made about Simon? He’d cast a slur on the family honor. If she’d refused his bargain, the arrogant lout would have considered that proof of her family’s lack of character. He would have used her refusal against her brother.
And the blackguard had the audacity to callSimoncalculating! At least her brother knew how to act like a gentleman. Simon didn’t growl at a lady or give her his back. Simon didn’t make outrageous proposals that any lady with an ounce of sense would reject.
If I must go out into society, why not do it with a beautiful woman on my arm?
Her breath quickened involuntarily. More men than she could count had called her beautiful. But few had dared to couple it with a hot, avaricious stare that played over her so insolently…so boldly—
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Cicely asked. “You look rather pink-cheeked.”
“It’s this heat, that’s all.” Regina opened her reticule to find her fan. It wasnotthe viscount’s burning stares. Decidedly not.
When she drew out her fan, a note fell into her lap. Drat it, she’d forgotten about that. With a glance at Cicely, who was now pulling down the shade to block the afternoon sun’s unrelenting rays, Regina unfolded the paper. She stared hard at it, praying that this time she’d magically be able to make sense of the letters that other people claimed formed words.
But as usual, the magic eluded her, and no words that she could understand would form. A d, then a p, then an l…or perhaps an e. What sort of word was that? She turned the note sideways—or at least she thought it was sideways. But she couldn’t even make printed letters form words properly—how in God’s name was she supposed to make sense of this scrawl?
When her head began to throb, she tossed the note aside with a curse. Lifting her gaze, she found Cicely watching her with concern.
“What’s that?” her cousin asked.
Regina shrugged. “A note I’m supposed to take to Lady Iversley. His lordship didn’t even seal it—he showed it to me for my approval.”
Cicely’s eyes went wide. “Oh, dear, what did you do?”
“I pretended to read it, and that seemed to satisfy him.”
Cicely donned her spectacles. “Shall I read it to you then?”
Gritting her teeth, Regina handed it over. “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind, dear.”
As Cicely scanned the note, Regina suddenly felt six again, watching her cousin and childhood tutor read easily what she couldn’t read even with a struggle. “I did try, you know,” she said.
“Uh-huh,” Cicely murmured, absorbed in the note. Then Regina’s words sank in, and she lifted her gaze. “You don’t have to try. I’m always happy to read for you.”
“I know, but I fear I don’t try hard enough. If I really worked at it—”
“Oh, but you mustn’t!” Cicely’s face showed clear alarm. “Didn’t it give you the headache?”
