Frances continued to follow him. Her voice was tinged with resolution when she said, “I may be a mere female, Mr. Lucas, but I am often in the company of the men who make such decisions and it would be derelict of me not to use my time in their presence to attempt to influence their votes.”
Lucas remained silent as he made his way to a small nook in the wall hidden from view from the rest of the library. He stepped inside, and she followed him.
“My goodness,” she exclaimed, spinning in a small circle and smiling. “I hadn’t realized this alcove was here.”
Lucas pointed up. The books of law were stacked to the ceiling on both levels of the room.
Her gaze followed his finger and she smiled. “Oh, Mr. Lucas, thank you. I never would have found these if you hadn’t shown me.” She hesitated a moment before narrowing her eyes again. “I do hope you don’t mind my asking, how did you know these were here?”
He glanced away and scratched at his temple. The blasted powdered wig made his head itch. He needed to think more before he did certain things. But being in her company made him carefree (or careless, more like). Thankfully, he’d already invented his answer on the walk over. “I spend a lot of time in this room. I like to read. Lord Clayton doesn’t mind as long as my chores are finished.”
“A footman who likes to read?” As soon as the last word left her lips, she clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my goodness. I’m terribly sorry. That was hideous of me,” she mumbled behind her fingers.
Lucas shook his head. “Please, no apologies, my lady.” He could only hope her guilt would keep her from asking more questions.
“It’s just that…” she continued. “Oh, I do hope I don’t insult you, but…I have noticed your speech is quite cultured and I wondered how . . .”
Lucas leaned a hand against the solid wooden frame of the nearest bookshelf. “How I’m a footman if I’m educated enough to speak this way and read law tomes?”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “When you put it that way it does sound awful. I’m terribly sorry. I beg your pardon.”
“No, don’t be sorry,” he replied. “Let’s just say my family and Clayton’s family have long been friendly. He did me quite a favor by employing me as a footman, however.” There. That was true, yet vague. The perfect answer.
“Of course,” Frances said. “I feel foolish for asking you to explain.”
“Think nothing of it my lady, truly.” He could hardly blame her for saying something rude to him when he was merely pretending to be a footman. As far as he was concerned, he was guilty too. Once again, he decided changing the subject was probably the best thing to do.
“Well, here they are.” He splayed his open palms toward the books. “May I help you find any one in particular?”
“No. I shouldn’t keep you any longer. I’m quite happy to poke about until I find the one I need.”
“Very well.” Lucas watched her. She seemed to want to say something else, but she’d hesitated.
“May I ask you something, Mr. Lucas?” she finally ventured.
He nodded. “Of course.”
“Have you met my maid…Albina? Downstairs perhaps?”
Lucas bit his lip while he contemplated the question. He’d met many servants downstairs, both those who were employed by Clayton and those employed by the guests, but he didn’t seem to recall the name Albina. “I don’t believe so. Why?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Frances shook her head and waved her hand in the air dismissing it. “Nevermind. Wait. I do have one more question.”
He blinked at her. “Yes?”
Her cheeks heated. “You’re not…married are you? Or otherwise engaged?”
His brows snapped together in a frown. “Of course not.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank heavens.”
Lucas smiled at her comment, then made to step past her back toward the entrance to the alcove. But she moved to the side at the same moment he did, and they both bumped straight into each other. Her head tipped back, and his chin tipped down. Their lips were mere inches apart.
He couldn’t move. He watched intently as she tucked a fallen curl behind her ear, then she lifted her gaze to his and he studied the flecks of gold in her dark orbs. His hand moved slowly of its own accord to gently cup her elbow. Her breaths increased, causing her chest to rise and fall faster. He stepped infinitesimally closer, the scent of peonies driving him mad.
He licked his lips in anticipation of the kiss.
Her tongue darted out to run over her lips as well.
He sucked in a breath. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew he’d be crossing a line if he didn’t turn and walk away right then, but he couldn’t make himself leave her.
“Must you go so soon?” she asked, her voice a trembling whisper.
“I suppose I could stay a bit longer,” he replied, his own voice husky. “If you’d like to convince me to.”
In answer, her hands moved up his shirtfront and wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling his head down to hers. “I would like to,” she breathed.
Lucas needed no further invitation. His lips met hers, a warm press at first until he opened his mouth and slanted it across hers. His tongue slid between her lips and she moaned in the back of her throat.
Lucas went hard instantly. He pulled her body tight against his and ravaged her mouth with his. He couldn’t get enough of her. She was soft and tasted like spring, and the scent of her perfume made him want to taste her. She wrapped her arms more tightly around him as the kiss intensified. He wanted to press her back against the bookshelf, wanted to grind himself against her, but he didn’t want to scare her. She might be questioning her decision to kiss him already and any sudden movement
