Seb was exciting, enticing and easy to talk to. She found herself being herself more around him than she had ever dared with a man before, while Westbridge was...well, Westbridge. Her eyes didn’t feast upon him, she had never had a lustful thought about him ever and, now that her life had suddenly becoming considerably more exciting and meaningful, the illustrious Duke was rather dull, truth be told. Her eyes wandered to his hands and she was alarmed to see how small they were buried amongst the lace. Perhaps that was why his cuffs were always so frothy? Her eyes flicked to Seb’s and Clarissa immediately recalled how tremendous those huge, capable, calloused palms had felt on her body—just as Penny announced it was time for dinner.
Like a shot, Lady Oliva jumped up and bounded over to claim Westbridge in case Clarissa got any ideas. Surprisingly she didn’t and that in itself was liberating. The Duke took the dolt’s arm, but his narrowed eyes remained resolutely on Seb. No doubt to continue to vex him, Seb sauntered over to Clarissa’s chair and held out his arm with a devastating, cocky smile which did peculiar things to her insides. ‘May I escort you in to dinner, Gem?’ His dark eyes were swirling with mischief. It was such an alluring sight she found herself grinning back as she wound her hand affectionately through the crook of his elbow. Then he bent to whisper in her ear and it sent her pulse jumping again as she remembered the feel of his lips on her ears. Her neck. Her collarbone. Her bosom...good gracious!
‘Poor you getting stuck with that Spencer chit. I had to sit next to her at breakfast. My, doesn’t she love herself? I caught her staring at her reflection in the back of her spoon.’
‘In some quarters she is considered very beautiful.’ It was a little test to see if Olivia held any appeal with Seb at all and perhaps a pitiful attempt to hear another compliment from him. His compliments made her feel so special.
‘She’s pretty, I suppose.’ His head turned to watch Clarissa’s rival sail past with a triumphant expression on her face. ‘But I don’t like what’s beneath.’
‘Beneath what?’
‘The face, of course. A face that won’t last for ever. I mean, how many old people do you look at and think,He’s handsome...she’s beautiful? Old people all look like old people. Age is a good leveller.Thenthe exterior pales into insignificance against what lies beneath the wrinkly and sagging skin and grey crinkly hair.’
Clarissa laughed, she couldn’t help it, because Seb always hit the nail on the head and his honesty was refreshing. ‘Are you an expert on the aged now?’
‘It’s basic common sense. By the time you get to that age it’sallabout the character. They are either nice people or they are not. Interesting or dull. Jolly or as sour as lemons. Lady Olivia is destined to be wrinkly, saggy, crinkly like the rest of us. But she will be a nasty, dull and sour old lady. With miserable wrinkles.’
‘And what, pray tell, are miserable wrinkles?’
‘The sort which come from a lifetime of frowning and looking upon things with disgust.’ He pulled a face to demonstrate. ‘It trains the skin to set the expression in perpetuity once the bloom of youth has faded. The description says it all—frown lines. Who wants frown lines? Jolly people have happy wrinkles. Laughter lines. They brighten the face even when the face has seen better days.’
Ahead of her, Clarissa could still see the Duke glaring at them—to the barnacle’s obvious consternation. ‘If he’s not careful, Westbridge will have frown lines. I think you’ve upset him.’ And she didn’t care. Let the Duke glare. Chatting to her spy was infinitely more diverting.
‘Have I?’ Seb’s dark head turned and he appeared surprised to see Westbridge’s hostile expression as he took his place ahead of the other lesser-ranked guests in the queue. ‘I hadn’t noticed. But, yes. I fear he is another one doomed to age grumpily.’
‘It’s an interesting theory...’
‘It’s based on fact. Years of observation actually. My grandparents were happy people right to the last. They were kind and generous and didn’t take themselves too seriously. Both were covered in laughter lines.’
‘They do sound jolly.’
‘They were. And they were devoted to one another. Couldn’t bear to be apart. Worked alongside each other and slept on the same mattress till the end. I wasn’t the least bit surprised when my grandfather died that my grandmother followed him a week after.’
‘That’s sad.’
He turned to her then and smiled. ‘No, it isn’t. Watching her live without him by her side would have been sadder. They wanted to stay together.’
She paused and gazed up at him, surprisingly touched. ‘Well, I never! You are a hopeless romantic.’ He blushed then. It was as endearing as it was spontaneous. ‘But I shan’t tell anyone.’
‘You can’t.’ His voice dropped to a whisper for her ears only, the inevitable trail of goosebumps standing to attention at the intimacy. ‘Spies are supposed to be ruthless and cold, not sentimental.’
‘Nor are they supposed to blush.’
‘Indeed. And we both know it doesn’t take much to set that off.’
Clarissa giggled and tightened her hand affectionately around his arm, trying to ignore the urge to walk her fingers over his muscles again as she anchored him in place or the way her body awakened at the innocent physical contact. There was nothing innocent about the images suddenly flooding her mind. That flush she had less than half an hour ago returned unabashed. She could already feel it creeping up her neck and threatening to ruin her face. Adoring, flushed faces and needy hands were hugely inappropriate when he had generously come to her aid in the midst of an important mission to save her from Olivia.
At this rate he was going to know she had a bit of atendrefor him. A big, obsessive and wholly impropertendreindeed. And lust. Lots and lots of lust. Talk of romance had reawakened her desire. So much so, she should change the subject. ‘Thank you for just now. You made me feel better about Olivia.’
‘You shouldn’t let her bother you. She is not in your league. Westbridge must be stupider than I thought to even consider her.’ More proof Seb had been trying to uphold his half of their bargain.
‘Thank you again. For saying so and for making him jealous with your splendid flirting. It was just what was needed.’ At least her voice sounded normal. Just the right amount of playful to go along with the lightened mood, without alerting him to the fact she was suddenly indifferent to the Duke and her rival because her head was filled with thoughts of Seb instead. ‘With everything else going on, I have allowed that girl to dominate his time. Perhaps too much. Something you will be pleased to know I intend to remedy tomorrow.’ Or the next day.
If she could be bothered.
She felt his arm stiffen beneath hers as his dark eyes hardened. ‘I’m glad I could be of service.’ But he didn’t sound particularly glad. He sounded like Millcroft.
* * *
