“No, not really. He never understood why I had to have French tutors and dance lessons, when the family had to sell artwork and furniture. I can’t tell you the number of times I tried to get them to use the money for their needs but….” Her voice trailed off.
“Please go on.”
“Honest to a fault described my father. Any money given to the family for me because of an understanding—”
“Contract, legal and binding. Sorry, please continue.”
“Regardless of the paperwork, if my father gave his word, he never broke it.”
The conviction in her words urged Andrew to believe her. Staring at a smudge on his left Hessian boot, he tried to think of how to broach the next topic: her brother. But no matter how many times he practiced the words in his mind, they always seemed harsh and accusing.
Her small, soft hand squeezed and radiated warmth into his. “What is it? I may not know you well.” She laughed, and the lyrical sound eased the strain in the room. “I never thought I would say that. I have been trained to know your every want….”
“Are you sure?”
Blank confusion passed over her eyes before his meaning sank in, and she blushed. She intrigued him as her nose turned red and the color spread. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“I couldn’t resist, and now that I have seen you blush, I might have to repeat the process. But you were saying?”
“It seemed like something bothered you is all,” she mumbled, pulling out of his grasp to cover her face with her hands.
“Don’t hide from me.” He pulled them away and brought them to his lips, placing a single peck into each palm before working small ones along the inside of her wrist.
“I wanted to hate you.”
“I understand that.” He repeated the caresses on her other wrist.
“I’m very sorry I punched you.”
“I’m not.”
She pulled her arm back. “You wanted me to punch you?”
He kneeled on the mattress so she had to arch her neck to meet his eyes. “Since it gave me a second chance with my bride-to-be then, for a little pain and some serious jesting at the hands of my friends, I would do it all over again.”
“You plan on marrying me?”
He paused. “There is a contract that says we must.”
She turned away with an expression of pain. “I never wanted you to feel trapped into marrying me.”
Honor played a part in his decision, of course, but, deep down, he feared, if he let her off the hook, she might find someone else.
“Do you feel trapped? What I said before still holds; the decision is yours. Would it help if I told you the night at the masquerade I was drawn to you? It didn’t matter who you were, I couldn’t help but walk across the room to meet you.”
“Why?”
“Maybe it was your creamy skin set against the deep red of your dress. Or the sensual curve of your neck. But, to be honest, it was the way you fidgeted from one foot to the other and bit your lip.”
His focus settled on her as she bit her lip in response. Groaning, he lowered his head to meet her mouth. She opened on a gasp, and he took the opportunity to deepen the joining. His cock sprang to attention. The minx possessed a power over his libido like no woman ever had.
Her breath came out on a rush of air. “I don’t feel trapped.”
“I want you to get acquainted with me, the man. Not the earl.”
“But they are one and the same.” She stared up at him with wide green eyes.
“No, they aren’t. What is my favorite drink?”
“Brandy”
“Food?”
“Potato dishes of any type, but cottage pie is your favorite.”
He nodded “My favorite horse?”
“At present, it is a brown stallion with white stockings on three of its hooves. I am unsure of his name.”
“Sampson.” Andrew smiled. She did know a great deal about him. “Favorite color?”
“Blue.”
“You’re wrong.”
She blinked as if unsure what to say. “But my tutors—”
“Could have no idea that the earl, who, if asked in public, would proclaim his favorite color might indeed be blue, might prefer something else. Yet that the man would in private confess his favorite color to be auburn hair as the firelight reflects in it, making it appear to catch fire. Followed closely by eyes such a deep green, they matched the gown its owner is currently wearing.” He waited, let his words sink in, let her see that the man was someone only she would know. “So, as you can see, the man is different from his public persona.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“Can’t I?”