Love and the Single Heiress

He leaned back and shot her a grin. Whatever madness had enveloped her disintegrated like a puff of smoke, and she abruptly straightened, pressing her back against the cushion, appalled. Not so much at him, but at herself. Heat crept up her neck, and she prayed her face wasn’t turning red. Good heavens, for one insane instant she’d thought he meant to… that she wanted him to…

Kiss her. But even more humiliating was the fact that she felt deflated because he hadn’t. Egad, she was losing her mind.

“You see?” he said. “Contrary to your belief, I’m perfectly capable of bestowing compliments. And I’m greatly looking forward to my visit to your home, as it will give us the opportunity to discover how much more we don’t know about each other.”

Good Lord, the things he did not know about her, she intended to keep that way. “Wonderful. I cannot… wait.”

Instead of taking offense at her deflating tone, his grin broadened. “Please, do not strain yourself with enthusiasm on my behalf.”

Humph. How dare he have good humor when he was supposed to be abashed? Must be the American in him. Well, he might plan that they would get to know each other better during his stay, but as Today’s Modern Woman well knew, she did not have to fall in with any man’s plans if she did not want to.

And based on the secrets she had to keep, Catherine most definitely did not want to.

Chapter 5

Today’s Modern Woman needs to recognize that there are times when Society’s restrictive rules should be roundly and soundly ignored. And the more attractive the gentleman in question, the more roundly and soundly the ignoring should be-discreetly, of course.

A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

by Charles Brightmore

“Bickley cottage will come into view in a moment,” Lady Catherine said two hours later, pointing toward the left. “Just beyond this copse of trees.”

Thank God. Andrew hoped his relief wasn’t too obvious. The four-hour journey had felt more like four months. The last two hours had consisted of alternating awkward silences and stilted conversation. She’d studiously concentrated on her embroidery, but he prided himself on being able to read people, and she was clearly preoccupied about something. His instincts told him she was thinking about last night’s incident, which he suspected was worrying her far more than she’d admitted.

He focused his attention out the window, taking in the verdant countryside. He couldn’t wait to get out of the close quarters of the carriage, where he’d spent the last four torturous hours breathing in her delicate floral fragrance. He blew out a long, careful breath. God, did a woman exist who smelled better? No. Impossible. It had taken every ounce of his strength not to touch her, to lean closer and simply breathe her in. He had given in to the excruciating temptation and leaned closer once, and the effort he’d expended not to kiss her had cost him.

Patience. He needed to remember his campaign of subtle, gentle wooing. If he moved too quickly, he sensed she would retreat like a frightened doe. Of course, the fact that she was clearly irked with him in regards to the Guide didn’t serve him well, although he himself found her enthusiasm for Brightmore’s book and all that Today’s Modern Woman rubbish irritating as well. He suspected she would not be pleased if she were to learn that he’d been hired to locate and unmask her literary idol, Charles Brightmore.

Although his quest to find the man was temporarily suspended while he remained in Little Longstone, he’d apply himself fully to the task once he returned to London. Charles Brightmore would be exposed, Andrew would collect a very handsome fee, and all this nonsense about Today’s Modern Woman would fade away, which in turn would evaporate the tension that had sprung up between him and Lady Catherine. In the meanwhile, he’d take full advantage of his opportunity to spend time with her and set his wooing campaign into motion.

Less than a minute later, they rounded a corner in the path, revealing a stately white-columned, brick home nestled cozily against a backdrop of massive trees, gently rolling hills, and verdant lawns. The variant shades of green were broken by meandering trails of vivid purple-and-pink, interspersed with blankets of pastel-hued wild- flowers. Shards of late-afternoon sunlight glinted off the house’s gleaming, round-topped windows, drenching the mellowed brick facade in a golden glow. The entire scene reflected picturesque, country tranquillity. A calm, safe haven for her and her son, far away from the cruel pettiness of Society.

“I can see why you love it here,” he said.

“It’s home,” she said quietly.

“It’s much larger and grander than I expected. Calling it a ‘cottage’ is rather like referring to a ship as a rowboat.”

“Perhaps. But the surroundings, the friendly atmosphere, and less formal ways here lend the house a coziness that belies it size. I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.”

He turned, and his gaze drifted over her lovely profile. The soft curve of her pale cheek, the gentle line of her jaw. The slight upward tilt of her nose. The lush fullness of her mouth. Falling in love the moment you see something… yes, I know exactly how that feels.

“Buying this property, where Spencer has easy and private access to the healing warm water springs on the grounds was the one generous gesture Bickley extended to his son.” She spoke softly, her voice utterly devoid of expression. She turned to face him, and he was struck by how her eyes had gone flat. Damn it all, he wanted to erase all the shadows the years of her unhappy marriage had cast upon her.

“Of course, as everyone knows, Bickley’s true reason for the purchase was simply to install Spencer-and me-far away, where he wouldn’t have to see, or be seen with, his imperfect son. Or the woman who had, in his words, foisted that son upon him.”

Because of his close friendship with Philip, Andrew was well aware of what a selfish, unfeeling, indifferent bastard Lady Catherine’s husband had turned out to be to his warm, vibrant wife, and what a poor excuse of a father for a boy who desperately needed one. He barely refrained from saying I would have liked nothing more than five minutes alone with that bastard you married. Instead, he said, “I’m very sorry your marriage was not a happy one.

“As am I. It began with great promise, but after Spencer’s birth…” Her voice trailed off, and for several seconds her eyes filled with the shadows that clearly haunted her still. His fingers itched with the need to reach out and touch her. To smooth away her hurts. To soothe and comfort her as the mere thought of her comforted him.

Before he could move, however, she gathered herself and smiled. “But that’s all in the past,” she said. “Spencer and I love Little Longstone. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay.”

“I’m certain I shall.”

“And you must make use of the warm springs while you’re here. They are very therapeutic. I’m looking forward to taking the waters myself to ease the stiffness in my upper arm.”

Andrew swallowed the apprehension that rose in his throat. He didn’t relish the prospect of spending time near the water. In the water was out of the question.

He was saved from replying as the carriage jerked to a halt, signaling they’d arrived.

“Before we alight,” she said, her voice low and her words coming fast, “I have a request. I would appreciate it if you did not mention last night’s incident to Spencer. I don’t wish to alarm him.”

Andrew could not hide his surprise. “Surely he will see that you are injured.”

“My sleeve hides the bandage.”

“What about your lip?”

“ ‘Tis hardly swollen at all. I’m certain he won’t notice.”

“But if he does?”

“I shall tell him I bit it, which is the truth.”