Page 37 of One Night with an Earl

“Fascinating,” Lady Malvern said, her voice polite but lacking enthusiasm.

Her ladyship was less than eager to spend time with the curator and Falksly when a titled earl and his fortune were within her grasp for her daughter. But manners prevailed, and the lady had to remain and listen to the curator’s vast knowledge of the artwork, the Academy, and even the building.

Ana excused herself, claiming she needed to use the ladies’ retiring room, and slipped away without notice. Here was her chance to view the other pieces of artwork on display.

She wove through the crowd looking for a certain corridor that led to a different wing of the Academy. A couple parted, and she spotted an exit. Turning swiftly, she ran straight into a hard body.

Her eyes widened at the sight of Oliver. “My lord!”

He reached for her arm to steady her, his brows slashing downward. “Are you all right, Ana?”

Stunned, she could only gaze up at him. Of all the dumb luck!

His thumb grazed the skin above her glove, and a flutter stirred deep in her chest. She found her voice. “Yes.”

As if he realized he was touching her in public, he removed his hand.

She knew their conversation in the garden was unfinished in his mind. He looked her over with disconcerting thoroughness, something hot and alarming his gaze. She understood what it was.

Lust. Longing.

She experienced the same in her dreams.

Lud! She was feeling it now.

He opened his mouth as if to say something.

She lifted her hand. “No. We should speak in private.”

One dark eyebrow arched upward. “Where?”

The only place that came to mind was where she’d been headed. “An alcove that displays a Greek statute, a nymph. It is in an isolated alcove.”

He nodded once. “I’ll find it. Go now so no one sees us together.”

She didn’t look back as she walked away, fearful others would see the turmoil on her face…or worse, that Oliver would notice. She needed all her wits about her to set things right between them.

She left the main hall and glimpsed inside room after room until she found a secluded one, an alcove she’d visited long ago which featured plaster casts of ancient sculptures.

One sculpture was original. The Draped Female Figure, a Greek marble statue that had been so skillfully carved that it looked real. Ana had loved the statue of the nymph clothed in transparent drapery—with one breast covered, the other naked—the first time she’d seen it years ago. The sign read it was created in the early three hundreds B.C. by Timotheus, and had been part of a temple in Greece.

As she waited for Oliver, her stomach was in knots. It would be impossible to completely avoid him during the Season, not with Lady Malvern intent on pursing him for Penelope. Until it became clear Penelope had no interest in the earl—and he had no interest in Penelope—Lady Malvern would not seek another rich, titled lord for her daughter.

If Ana could have a logical conversation with Lord Drake, perhaps future encounters would not be awkward or stressful.

Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. Was he lost? Or had he been waylaid?

She couldn’t wait much longer before Lady Malvern noticed her prolonged absence. Ana focused on the nymph statue to ease her nervousness. The detail was truly striking. As with many ancient statues, either vandalized or simply damaged over time, the head was missing, but it was so lifelike that Ana wanted to reach out and touch the marble to see if she’d awake.

She removed her gloves and slipped them into her reticule, then reached out a finger to graze the cool marble. “Are you waiting for your bridegroom?” Ana asked, whispering to the nymph.

“Or perhaps she is posing for her lover.”

Ana spun at the sound of the distinctive male voice to see Oliver standing behind her. Her pulse quickened, and her face heated both from his presence as well as the intimacy of her observing the nearly naked nymph.

“What took you so long?” she asked.

“I did not want anyone to know I was following. Besides, it took a while to extricate myself from Lady Malvern’s clutches.”