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Elise’s small teeth nipped at her lower lip; she desperately hoped that Hugh Kendrick would also take that logical view, but people falling in love could act irrationally and cause great hurt to those they professed to care about. She only had to recall her own mother’s behaviour to know that. Arabella Dewey had promised her daughters they were the most precious people in the world to her...yet it had not prevented her abandoning them to go off with her lover.
Elise’s unhappy memories were curtailed as Winnie shyly reappeared, eyes saucer-like, to show the viscount and Hugh Kendrick into the drawing room.
‘Oh, how very nice to see you. We are honoured.’ Maude’s welcoming beam drooped a little as she noted the viscount looked as sinfully handsome as ever, but rather too stern. She didn’t want this to be a fleeting visit, so breathlessly rattled off, ‘You must take tea with us.’
‘That would be very nice.’ Hugh gave an encompassing smile despite seeming rather subdued. His eyes had soon drifted Bea’s way, but instead of stationing there moved on.
‘Please do sit down.’ Maude indicated a vacant sofa.
Hugh immediately went to it, but before the viscount could follow Beatrice had whipped to sit beside him.
Elise winced at her sister’s excruciating lack of modesty, momentarily closing her eyes in despair. They opened to clash on a deep-brown gaze that she was sure mocked her. He’d told her the couple would not be nagged apart and must sort things out themselves and reluctantly Elise recognised the truth in it. She could sensibly advise her sister till she was blue in the face but Bea wouldn’t heed one word of it if she didn’t want to. If her sister had listened to her fears over the dratted Lady Lonesome business their family would not have come to the viscount’s notice. Elise sensed that might have been best.
‘Do take a seat, my lord,’ Maude urged as the viscount braced a dark hand negligently on the mantelshelf as though he would stay where he was. ‘There’s a place by Miss Elise.’ She opened the door to hiss at Winnie—who’d been instructed to hover outside—that it was time to put the kettle on.
Alex sat down on the edge of a blue-velvet cushion, clasping his linked fingers on his knees. ‘And how are you, Miss Dewey?’ he asked evenly, gazing at a spot on the ceiling.
‘I’m well, sir. And you?’ Elise replied in an equally placid tone that belied the fact she was overwhelmed by his proximity. The warmth from his body was seeping through the thin dimity of her day dress and a scent of sandalwood was in her nostrils. A sliding glance took in his impressive appearance: highly polished Hessians and tight buff breeches were in her line of vision. She averted her eyes from a muscled thigh’s hard contours that mere days ago she’d straddled with her skirts awry.
‘I’m glad to be back in London,’ Alex answered, sitting back and turning his dark head towards her.
Maude had been eavesdropping. ‘You’ve been out of town, my lord?’ It was unusual for people to be drawn away from the metropolis during the height of the Season, but she had heard from her husband that the viscount had recently bought Whittiker’s country acreage that abutted his own. She prayed that particular fellow wouldn’t put in an appearance this afternoon and ruin everything. He hadn’t visited this week and Maude sensed her eldest daughter was relieved rather than sorry about that.
‘I’ve had estate matters to deal with in Berkshire. Some newly acquired land needed fencing.’
Alex caught a muffled sound to one side of him. ‘You find fencing amusing, Miss Dewey?’ he asked without removing his gaze from his long, loosely entwined fingers. They freed themselves so a few could brush a speck from a conker-brown sleeve from which protruded a pristine shirt cuff.
‘I find the idea of you personally doing it quite funny. But then I’m sure you did not.’ Elise cast her eyes down to her lap, wishing she’d managed to control her spontaneous giggle.
‘I personally did a good deal of it.’ He slowly turned to face her.
Elise stared at him, moistened her lips, then stilled her tongue when she noticed she’d drawn his eyes to her mouth.
‘You believe me incapable of swinging a hammer?’ he asked quietly with a half-smile.
‘No...’ Elise could remember very well the strength in the arms that had held her captive in the bushes at Vauxhall. ‘I believed you incapable of lowering yourself to do so,’ Elise blurted truthfully, feeling uncomfortably hot with embarrassment.
