Page 8 of Lady, Behave
“Indeed,” he said. “I’d like to kiss you for it.”
She gave a shocked little laugh. Since Grandpapa died and she knew she’d have to find a husband soon, she’d taken to kissing any man who appealed. Alas, she’d found none. But now, she was not only complimented but tempted to kiss this man. “Not here.”
“No. But somewhere and soon. With my thanks for the syrup, the dance, and the laughter.”
Oh, my. Was he much too chivalrous?Was he a rake of no morals? A man who complimented women? Women like her? Young and naive. For all her good looks, for all her pride in them and understanding of them as a tool to attract men, she was still untried, uninformed of much of the physicality of mating. She could be all too easily influenced by a practiced man’s charms. Of that, she had always been on guard.
“A kiss for relief from a headache? Oh, surely that would be—”
“Bliss,” he vowed. “I will try for it tomorrow.”
“When you come for tea?”
“I come for you, Addy.”
He lifted her hand and pressed his firm lips to her glove in a stunning kiss. Had he blessed her bare skin with his mouth, she would have taken him to an alcove in the hall and tasted the flavor of his desire and called herself barely satisfied.
“Tomorrow then,” she whispered and longed to taste his lips on hers.
Chapter Three
Royal Pavilion
Brighton
“Mama!” Heath foundhis mother in his sitting room, a surprise considering she usually retired from such events before midnight. It was a wonder she’d even found his rooms in the maze that was Prinny’s mash-mash, Chinese-Mughol, favorite residence. For the past five days and nights, Heath had had a devil of a time finding the path himself, let alone scaring up a footman who knew his way to the back of beyond. Now Heath was in no mood for arguing with her. But she stayed atop all the best gossip, so he could predict the matter that stuck in her craw.As if I can avoid discussing it.“You’re not abed. Are you ill?”
She stared up at him from the wing chair next to the fire. “Where’ve you been?”
“Actually, my dear, I’ve been wandering the damn halls of this labyrinth. If I’d known that the honor of being Prince George’s guest in his Pavilion would be a treasure hunt, I’d have taken a room on the Steine!”
“Oh, hush! You ungrateful boy. Rooms here are such an honor. Hard to come by, too. And your father is thrilled.”
“And lucky for him, already abed. I say, Mama, why are you here? Ill? Need my supply of headache syrup?”
“I am not ill, you rascal. And well you know it.”
“I know no such thing.” He shrugged from his formal frock coat and folded it over the back of a chair. “Hurry on with the scolding, will you, please. I am very tired.”
“You know why I’m here.” She wiggled her shoulders in indignation.
“If I do, then you’ve no reason to be here. You can retire, and we can avoid any repetition of our previous contretemps.”
“Don’t be impertinent.”
He ran a hand through the shock of his hair at his brow. “Shall I say it for you?”
She huffed and fixed him with her stern umber gaze. “I told you I do not approve of those Barry girls.”
“Because of their grandfather. Yes. What did he do, my dear?” Heath always loved to hear the rationale behind his father’s disapproval of others. This of the elder Barry sounded hollow, indefensible as it was—given it was his father—the pot calling kettle black. “Attempt to seduce you before you were married to Papa?”
“Oh!” She took umbrage, turned red, and pulled up the collar of her purple velvet dressing gown. “Never. I would not—”
“Not allow it,” he said, softening his disapproval of her carrying his father’s complaint to him. “I know, sweet. I know. Just tell me the full of it, will you, so that we can each climb into our respective beds and dream?”
“You’ll not dream of her.”
But I wish to. Shocking that, given his previous taste for the talented women of London.“Why? You must tell me more than simply warning me away.”
