Page 38 of Ruthless with a Rogue
Aha!There’s one.The tickling sensation intensified, and she hastily pulled out a handkerchief, inhaled on a stuttered gasp, and—
“Achoo!”she squeaked.
She gazed up at Lord Dunmore through the folds of her handkerchief.Another hint of a genuine smile grazed his lips.
“You sneeze like a mouse.”
Livy forced her smile down and let out a beleaguered sigh.“It appears your flirtation makes me ill, my lord.”
Amusement flared in Lord Dunmore’s eyes, and his lips tugged up in a half-smile.“I will strive to do better.”
Her smile broke free then.It was odd.The austere Marquess of Dunmore seemed to be lacking in the austere department the few times she’d been in his company.“It’s unfortunate—the sneezing, that is—as I adore spring, but most flowers make me puffy-eyed and bring on an onslaught of sneezing.I’ve learned to carry many handkerchiefs.”
“A lady who cannot tolerate flowers,” he mused.“That does pose a challenge for suitors.A pity, really, as I was considering a dinner at my box in Ranelagh Gardens for our next foray into elevating your standing.”
Livy nearly forgot herself and latched onto Lord Dunmore’s arm in her excitement—nearly, but not quite.Which had her falling off balance.And tripping.Oh dear, that was the ground approaching.
Lord Dunmore’s hands were there, catching her, firm, fleeting.“Easy there, minx,” he whispered, laughter curling around his words.
“Apologies,” she said breathlessly, her heart fluttering at her near tumble.“But please, can we still go?I’ve always wanted to see the Ranelagh Gardens.And Vauxhall.I don’t mind the sneezing or puffiness—truly.As long as you don’t mind having dinner with a squeaky mouse, of course.I suppose I could see that being a nuisance.”She stared up at him earnestly.Please.
Something flickered over those vivid green irises.Something unreadable.Almost like he was dissecting her, not with judgment, but with curiosity.It reminded her of the way society studied her, yet it wasn’t the same.She didn’t feel as though her worth was being measured.No, it felt more like when she was facing an unfamiliar equation.The moment, the focused pause, before she knew how to solve it.As though he were studying her, trying to make sense of her variable by variable.
“Monday next.Dinner.I’ll send my carriage for you and your aunt.Perhaps if you…play your cards right…I’ll even escort you to Vauxhall once it opens.”
Amusement bubbled up inside her at his pun, and she nodded her agreement, albeit a bit overenthusiastically.Which earned her a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
He cleared his throat, turning to gaze out across the park.“Today, I will introduce you to those acquaintances I mentioned.Ones who appear in optimal places in your little tree of the ton.”
She looked out across the park, loose tendrils of her hair dancing over her face in the breeze.It was bustling with promenading ladies in elegant gowns and gentlemen in their finely tailored walking coats and toppers.She sent a silent thank you to Lord Dunmore.She couldn’t imagine how deflating it would’ve been to show up in the dresses she’d brought from home.She tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth.The gesture had been awfully thoughtful.Yes, an attempt to sway her, a part of hisseduction.But a thoughtful one.Blast, the man was good.
Her gaze clashed with a pair of misty blue eyes, and the breath caught in her chest.Warren.His eyes were wide, his attention flicking back and forth between her and Lord Dunmore.
Lord Dunmore bumped into her arm, and her stare shot to his.Her stomach flipped over.Mossy green irises consumed her.He leaned closer, and she froze, couldn’t even blink.There were so many shades of green in his eyes.Jades and sages, some deep-forest striations.All the shades nature could take on.Livy had always loved nature.
With maddening slowness, he reached out until there was a delicate prodding on her bonnet.His gaze never wavered from hers, and she couldn’t look away, wasn’t sure she was physically capable of doing so.
“Wh-What are you doing?”she managed faintly.To her.Right now.She couldn’t unmuddle her thoughts.
He displayed a soft Hawthorn blossom, gently rubbing the ivory petal between his white, glove-clad fingers.“With your sensitivity to flowers, we cannot have them in your bonnet, can we?”He released the petal, and it slowly drifted away on the breeze.“A lesson about men, Miss Forester.They covet nothing more than what they perceive another man seeks.”He straightened and stepped away from her before giving a subtle jerk of his chin in Mr.Thorton’s direction.
Livy stole a glance at Warren and nearly stepped back at the searing intensity of his stare.Not once in the five years they had been in each other’s company had he looked at her like that.Even from the distance between them across the park, amidst the throngs of revelers, she could discern the hard set of his jaw.His look turned sunshine into a storm, thunder rolling in her chest.It struck like a storm: jealousy.
She shot a look at Lord Dunmore, eyebrows aloft.The rogue was onto something.His lips kicked up in a cynical, knowing smile.She started to turn back, but Lord Dunmore shifted, cutting off her view.One dark brow lifted infinitesimally.That small movement spoke volumes.Her attention belonged tohim.
He inclined his head toward two gentlemen engaged in conversation, each with a lady at their side.“The acquaintances I believe you will be most pleased to meet.And some you won’t be so pleased to…see again.”
Livy frowned at that but followed the line of his attention.And found the reason why.
“Lord and Lady Pennington,” he murmured.
The thin middle-aged man from the gaming hell stood with a young woman with flaming red hair hiding beneath a striking black hat decorated with tulle and lace.Even from this distance, Livy could see the stiffness of the woman’s smile.And Livy could fully understand why.To be married to a man like that?
An uncomfortable, jittery sensation took up in her chest.Without thought, her gloved fingers went to her cheeks, tracing the outline of her mask from the other night.“You don’t think he’ll…” she whispered.Heavens.Would he recognize her?
Lord Dunmore caught her gaze.“Not a chance, Miss Forester.Trust me, he wasn’t studying your face.Unless you’re hiding black silk stockings underneath that dress and planning to put them on display, you have nothing to worry over.”
Heat slapped her cheeks at that.But the rogue had a point.
