The stranger flinched and opened his eyes. They were deep blue, the same color as his father’s, but bright like the morning sky, devoid of Sutcliffe’s ice. When he saw her, he smiled, a twitch of his wide, mobile mouth.
“Lady Kathryn, I presume?” His voice was deep and resonant with a slight accent. The low, intimate pitch sent shivers down her spine.
If she’d had any doubts that he’d been in the library, they vanished beneath his knowing gaze. “You seem to have an advantage, sir. I have no idea who you are.”
“Allow me to introduce myself.” He stood, his big body moving with fluid grace. At full height, he towered over her by almost a foot. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, brushing a tender kiss to her knuckles. The heat of his mouth sent a shiver of awareness through her entire body. “Talon Montgomery. At your service, of course.”
His words were almost too polite. Faintly mocking. As though he knew the rules of polite society, but had no patience with them.
Talon. An unusual name. She snatched her hand away, her skin still tingling from the warm pressure of his kiss. There was something overwhelming about him, a physical presence she’d never encountered in anyone other than her father-in-law.
“Are you related to my husband?” She feigned ignorance, determined not to let him know she’d searched him out after hearing the rumors.
“I’m Sutcliffe’s bastard.”
“Oh.” His candid confession caught her off guard. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what? That I’m a bastard, or that I’m Sutcliffe’s bastard in particular?”
She frowned, feeling as though she’d made a terrible blunder. He couldn’t help being a bastard, after all. There was nothing she could say to make her words sound less like the insult they’d been, so she decided to change the subject.
“Your father didn’t tell me you were here, or I would have welcomed you when you arrived. How long will you be staying?”
“I won’t be staying. I’ll be riding back to London with you and the earl this afternoon.” But he gazed at a flock of geese landing on the lake as though the idea of returning to the city was far from appealing.
Kathryn’s gaze caught and held on his strong profile. The length of his long, dark lashes gentled his otherwise austere features, giving him a hint of vulnerability.
She didn’t know whether she could handle being in such close proximity to this man for hours on end. The mere thought made her strangely breathless. “Then you’ll be staying at the London house?”
He nodded. “For the present. Then I’ll be going on to Charleston with you and Daniel.”
The slight drawl she’d heard in his voice suddenly slid into place. “You’re an American?”
“By choice,” he murmured. “Not by birth. I grew up in White Chapel.”
She shuddered. White Chapel was one of the seediest parts of London, populated, she believed, mainly by cutthroats and prostitutes. “You must by very glad your father decided to claim you.”
He made a sound of disgust. “Why? Do you truly think I’m a better person now than I was before Sutcliffe admitted something I’ve known most of my life?”
The intensity of his blue gaze made her flinch. “That was thoughtless of me. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Think nothing of it,” he said after a long moment of silence. “I’m far too defensive of my humble beginnings.”
His anger seemed to fade, but she sensed it took quite an effort to keep it under control. She’d struck a nerve, and she wondered if Sutcliffe realized how deeply his son’s resentment ran.
“I shouldn’t have bothered you.” This man made her nervous. She’d managed to put her foot in her mouth twice during their brief conversation, which was a record even for her. “I need to get back inside and supervise the packing.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed, the courtly gesture of a perfect gentleman. When he straightened, his blue gaze held hers for a long moment. She had the feeling he saw far more than she would like.
Being the subject of such intense regard was unsettling, to say the least. Involuntarily, she took a step backward.
He smiled as though pleased to have rattled her. Apparently, his resemblance to Sutcliffe was more than skin deep.
“Good afternoon, sir.” She turned away, trying to ignore the nettling feel of his gaze upon her back as she hurried to the house.
