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His arms braced at her sides as he lifted his torso to smile at her. “Why on Earth not?” The movement imprinted his renewed arousal on her. Bless men in their prime! She mustered every ounce of will to fight against the enticement he represented.
“It’s daylight, it’s risky, it’s improper,” she countered while scrambling away from the inviting bed and even more inviting Highlander.
“More’s the pity,” he shrugged disappointed, sitting up to watch her adjusting her clothes.
Flushed, flustered, tempted, she swung to him, “I’ll see you downstairs.” And left before the sight of him convinced her otherwise.
CHAPTER FIVE
Harriet stood at a darkened corner of one of the lecture chambers in the campus, watching Samuel deliver his lecture. Impeccably dressed in dark grey suit, black cravat around the collar of a pristine white shirt, his tall figure made her insides flutter. Deep admiration filled her as she witnessed his joy and passion for knowledge and research. It had been in him from the start. He exhibited this scientific curiosity and eagerness in learning, so rare in most of his rich
peers who did not value their easy access to education. Unlike the poorer students who squeezed their last penny to be able to complete their academic steps, her father being a typical example.
She only lamented that women were not allowed in their midst. Would not be for another seventy years. She would have loved to have sat on these benches and accomplished her own high studies. Instead, she must be satisfied with the home tutoring she received, fighting the prejudice the male teachers carried that she would not understand their teachings. Therefore, they would not provide them. Fight she did and reached higher than most of her friends.
Those listening to Samuel’s lecture, the visiting scholars, undergraduates and the peers he had invited, did so with ecstatic attention. His diligence and hard work evident in every word. The semi-circular room with its centuries-old oak benches and the huge desk in its front contributed to the air of ceremonious deference that seemed to dominate anyone who entered it.
“You are very much aware women cannot enter these premises, Mrs Stratham,” a derogatory voice muttered by her side.
Her head swung as she saw Michael Trent standing beside her. A shiver of pure revulsion travelled her skin. “Good afternoon, Mr Trent,” she made it a point to call him by the wrong tittle, instead of Lord Trent. This excuse for a gentleman did not deserve it. Neither did he deserve an answer to his taunt.
His sniff conveyed with precision what he thought of her mistake. But she did not care, and turned back to Samuel, much more interested in his speech.
Her indifference must have piqued the future Marquis. From the corner of her eye she saw his jaw ticking with irksome speed.
“I can call a clerk who’ll evict you in a rather loud way,” the threat caused a cold rush to wash over her. Shaming Samuel was the last thing she wanted.
But backing down did not list in her options at that exact moment, not yet at least. “You do that, my lord,” the title sounded the very opposite of its importance, “I’ll be right here.”
Both looked ahead, seemingly with their attention on the lecture. “You shouldn’t have refused my protection. I could have settled you lavishly.”
The repellent shudder that crawled up her spine nearly unbalanced her. But she managed to tamp it down resolutely. “I thanked you at the time, preferring to enjoy my employment with Professor Hayley, if memory serves,” she clipped out, wishing he left her alone.
“Should you become…unemployed, my offer stands,” the veiled threat climbing up his words was not lost on her. Though how he intended to set it up, she had no clue. The ruffian did not frequent the professor’s house anymore and held a distant contact with Samuel. Besides veiled, the threat was empty at best.
“I’ll remember that,” she answered without giving the impression she grasped his meaning. Better if he thought her daft.
Samuel only half-listened to the questions asked after his lecture, with his attention on the exchange taking place in the back of the room. He swelled like a peacock showing off his proud feathers to his mate. Despite other people’s presence, his speech had been solely for her. His delight in it faded the moment Trent approached her. She had gone stiff, tension thrumming in her every muscle, those lovely crystalline eyes becoming dull. He had this urge to stop everything and go to her, protect her, shield her with his own body, prevent any harm from darkening her beautiful face. But he must wait until he finished here to do that. Fortunately, they reached the questions part. It would not be long.
As soon as the last question was answered, he came down from the front dais and strode towards her, distractedly thanking the audience’s praise as he passed.
“Mrs Stratham,” he called as he neared her, keeping the formality in public. “I trust you enjoyed the lecture.”
Her eyes snapped to him as a relieved smile drew her delectable mouth. Memories of every moment they shared almost knocked him out of his senses. Somehow, he held onto his polite mask, offering her his arm.
“Mr McDougal,” his name came too clipped for comfort. “It was outstanding as usual,” she praised, placing a tense hand on his sleeve.
“Trent,” Sam greeted his former classmate. “I never thought you’d be interested in a lecture on Bromeliaceae.” Michael’s glance darted to Harriet’s hand on his arm and up to him with a hard expression Sam did not decipher.
They walked outside where the setting sun announced supper.
“I am not,” Trent confirmed, “I just came to invite you to join us. It’ll be a special night there where we met the other day.”
Naturally the nobleman would not mention Madame Drummond’s bawdy house’s name in Harriet’s presence. The label ‘special’ must surely refer to all kinds of debauchery Sam considered abusive to everyone involved.
“I regret to decline, but I promised to take Mrs Stratham home.” Which he would do in the ten-minute walk to where he currently lived, a detail he curiously had not shared with his acquaintance.
Again, the other man looked at him and at her alternately, a suspicious expression covering his jaded person. Short, with a paunch showing under his garments, his carousing lifestyle had imprinted itself in his tired eyes and sallow skin.
