Page 13 of A Potion for Passion

“Have you found a way to dye my hair back again?” she asked. “You said you’d experiment.” Her expression turned hopeful, and he felt a sudden rush of guilt.

Yes, he had promised that, but instead, he’d spent the whole evening fending off Sally Matthews.

“I regret I’ve not had the time.” It was no lie. “No, please don’t look like that. I will honor my promise.” He didn’t like feeling guilty. Conscience was a luxury a man in his position could ill afford. “I’ll have a go before my afternoon show. Maybe you’d like to come along to that?” he suggested. “Charley will be doing some of his tricks.”

The look of disappointment had vanished. Good.

“Charley does tricks?”

“Aye, he does. He dances about on his hind legs, and we have conversations—one bark for yes, two for no. You know the kind of thing. He can carry a paper of pills in his mouth to a member of the audience and bring me back the money in a bag tied around his neck.”

He’d have to say farewell to Charley when he went to America, he suddenly realized with a twinge in his heart. He didn’t imagine they’d take dogs as passengers. Unless you were disgustingly rich and had a pug small enough to carry in your sleeve.

Charley would need a new master. Or mistress. Did Miss Hartington like animals?

“I think the Daniells would get suspicious if I went out again today,” she said wistfully.

“Why do you care what they think? They’re not your keepers.”

“I know. But word might get back to Lucinda, and she’s so very commanding.”

“And you are not?” he asked, growing annoyed at how her overbearing sister ruled her life.

“No,” she confessed, with lowered gaze. “I may have odd moments of rebellion, but they’re few and far between. I forbid you to feel sorry for me, though. I’m not without hope.”

He leaned forward, intrigued. “I’m glad to hear it. What is it that gives you hope?”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you? Good. I’m planning to sell my cottage in Fortuneswell and set up in business. Once I’ve learned how the trade works by going into a partnership.”

A low whistle escaped him. He hadn’t expected that from this shy, gentle woman.

“What business did you have in mind?” he asked, more impressed than ever.

“I want to run my own hat shop.” Her body trembled with excitement, and the blue eyes flashed with fire. There was a latent passion in this woman he’d never have guessed at.

A sudden desire to rip off her bonnet surged through him. He wanted to watch that lustrous long hair spilling out over her shoulders. He needed to run his hands through it and cup the back of her head. He simply had to brush his lips over her sweetly innocent mouth.

The urgency of his need took him by surprise. Judas!

This lusting after Miss Hartington was a feeling that needed to be nipped in the bud or they’d both be in serious trouble. Aside from the obvious, he’d hate to fall foul of that sister of hers. He’d be damned if he’d give the shrew further reason to make her life miserable.

And the look of childish delight in the lady’s eyes as she spoke of her future hat shop was so heart-warming, he’d no wish to sully it with his base desires. Which meant he must not touch her. But how could he possibly make himself refrain from tasting her sweet lips?

Especially when the urge to do so was this powerful?